Arcee

It's literally so good Prepare for the ride of your life

(are image-only entries still banned? ok heres a thing) i'm running into the pitfall i've never really had before which is writer's block. i wrote tomes upon tomes of fanfiction back in the day and never really hesitated but now i'm dreading writing something as trivial as bionicle fanfiction////////

@Takuta Bionicle is active, I'm writing and Takuta is reading...something I honestly never would have guessed would happen again! You caught one of the big subjects the story will deal with right away, one of the organic and the mechanical. In fact the one story that was part of your final This World book (This Universe?) was sort of in mind when crafting this story, the one where the Matoran starts transforming...am I misremembering? Either way it's great to see you back! This story's been in limbo a while because I'm super busy working lately, plus I tried to juggle an Early Sunsets remake which just didn't work. Hope to see you around!

AKT I/ /NIGHTMARES Sephra wandered through an uncanny and terrifying labyrinth. Its twists and turns were built of a horrible fleshy material, wet and oozing with a fluid that made the whole place smell like rust and death. The place almost felt like some deep, dark cave, but it wasn't long before Sephra realized the white and curved stalactites were not made of rock but instead dreadful teeth. She knew not why she was here, nor how she got there. Worst of all, Sephra hadn't the faintest inkling of how to get out. Despite how utterly gross the landscape was, Sephra didn't find herself fearful, just curious and very unsettled. That is, until the sound began. Thunderous, and in three. Boom... Boom... Boom... Sephra considered turning and running the direction from whence she came, but the booming sound was clearly emanating from behind her. Boom... Boom... Boom... What was that? Footsteps? Boom. Boom. Boom. Every moment the noise grew louder, so Sephra picked up her pace and began to run. Something was happening, right behind her. When the sound appeared once again she dared a glance back and was greeted with nothing but the sight of the twisting, fleshy walls. Boom. Boom. Boom. In her fear and awkward stance, running forward and looking back, Sephra neglected to notice a crevice underfoot. She tripped, flying forward like a rocket, and landed face-first in the rancid material. Boom. Boom. Boom, the sound continued. Sephra dared a glance up. She was in a room built of the same pinkish material, stalactites and stalagmites gleaming from some unknown light source. In the center of the room a faceless, Matoran-shaped being stood. It was made of the same exact material as the maze Sephra found herself in, its feet fused to the ground and its arms reaching upwards, intertwined with the sinewy ceiling. "Who are you?" Boom. Boom. Boom. "Sephra!" a voice echoed. Boom. Boom. Boom. "Sephra!" Sephra awoke, heart racing, safe in her bed. A nightmare. It was just a nightmare. She sat panting heavily before she realized the booming from the dream was a knock at the door. "Sorry! I'll be right there!" She jumped out of bed and tried fruitlessly to tidy up the place but soon gave up. A messy living space was certainly less embarrassing than sleeping in until high noon. Sephra opened the door and suddenly wondered if she was still in a dream. Crouching in the doorway was the figure of none other than Toa Kalii, armor shining in the midday sun. "Toa Kalii! What... what a surprise!" Kalii nodded. "Please, please pardon my manners. Come in. I apologize for the mess." Kalii grimaced. "You may speak casually with me if you wish. I am simply Kalii." "Kalii. Kalii." Kalii took a seat in an undersized wooden chair beside an undersized wooden table. Her eyes immediately focused on the trinkets and sustenance tablets (unconsumed and consumed alike) littered across its surface. "Please, pardon the mess." "You should see my quarters," chortled Kalii, "no need to be apprehensive. I'm merely admiring this set of sculptures based on the Toa Ennui. It reminds me of the task at hand." Sephra was dazed enough from her nightmare, but now a living legend was sitting there in her room, complimenting her taste in knickknacks. "An old friend made them for me... Kalii? What do you mean 'task at hand?'" Kalii laughed silently to herself and looked out the undersized--Matoran-sized--window. "Acts of heroism aren't to be ignored. Had you not come to my rescue, I would be Reisen-bones now." "Don't mention it," Sephra found herself saying. "Don't mention it?" what am I, some kind of superhero? Kalii seemed to find an equal amount of humor in Sephra's confidence. "It was my hubris that led me into the mouth of the beast. I truly had no idea what I was in for. The Turaga have given it a new classification. Großreisen, that's what they're calling it. According to Turaga Ennui, it's a whole new league of monster. Hopefully such bruisers are rare, but..." Kalii trailed off, lost in thought. "The Turaga are worried that this is only the first of many," Sephra finished. Kalii nodded. "It had telepathic powers. Not to mention it was nearly invincible and may as well have been made of teeth." Kalii continued looking out the window, head rested on her hand. "The... task at hand?" "Right." Kalii snapped out of her trance-like state. "We're going to the Metru." "The Metru?" Sephra had never visited the island's hub before. As long as she lived she'd always been a guardian of Fälsch's coastline. The idea of the Metru was something that had always struck her as odd and foreign. It was a center for commerce, for trade, for the arts. The Koro on the coastline seemed to be in a constant struggle against Reisen. Completely landlocked, the Metru was free from these worries. Kalii nodded. "As I said. Acts of heroism aren't to be ignored. Turaga's orders. I'm to bring you to the Metru." Sephra stared at Kalii in bewilderment and wondered to herself what the burst of bravery had gotten her into. She certainly had never seen herself as a coward or unskilled, but at the same time could never imagine herself as exceptional or heroic. Finally, Sephra nodded back. The only beings with authority over Toa Kalii in Fälsch were the Turaga and she wasn't about to ignore their orders. "Then let's go," said Kalii. Upon stepping outside Sephra's eye caught the sun shining off of something magnificent. A black two-wheeled cruiser with Kane-Ra I emblazoned along the side in yellow Metru Nui-style glyphs sat parked right outside her house. She shielded her eyes and observed the thing closer. She'd heard of vehicles like this overseas, but imported? Not even the more privileged in Fälsch's Metru owned cutting-edge technology like that. Kalii glanced down in embarrassment at Sephra. "I was never one for flashy things like this... but if it gets me to point A to point B faster than a Mask of Speed there's no way I wouldn't need one." "Are we riding it to the Metru?" A look not unlike pain crossed Kalii's mask. "Yes. You can sit on the back when I drive." Kalii mounted the cruiser and turned the handle, causing the engine to rev up. "Hop on," she cried over the thunderous machine. Sephra approached and touched the seat gingerly. It shuddered with a mechanical ferocity, but it was certainly no match for a Booster operator like Sephra. She shrugged off all hesitation and hopped onto the bike as if it were just another day fighting off sea monsters, but the terror of something so fast still ate at her. "Hold onto your mask," said Kalii, and without further notice the bike kicked into a speed Sephra had only dreamed of. They crossed the Koro in record time, making the cottages and nearby Matoran nothing but a blur. Sephra felt something lurch in her stomach, so she closed her eyes tightly and held onto Kalii's waist for dear life. -------------------- [ REVIEW ]

OH NO..

Just warming up cuz I havent used a tablet in a million years. i messed up the hand when i realized a.) bionicles cant do the peace sign and b.) i didnt want to draw his sword i've always had kind of a thing for this guy

Thanks for reading/commenting! The choice of setting was a bit odd to me even. I wrote this same story years and years ago but on a much more traditional Bionicle setting. Since Bionicle is rebooting I decided to set it in a much different continuity: a world not too different from modern Earth. It's a bit for catharsis's sake. Iaja deals with some very real fears that many other people including myself go through and-- Well I'd hate to spoil it, or write something super boring. Hopefully I'll update this week and have enough written to update once weekly.

I guess? Still can't tell if I like the restoration of my Ancient Brand

Chapter Two: A Nonsensical Song Late again. The terror of the daily routine seemed to creep up Iaja's throat, and as he waited for the drone to refill his Gadunka I with fresh fuel he eyed the canister poking out from his glove compartment among a mess of legal documents and compact discs. "Here with us today to discuss the mystery of the Collapse is Aquis, Turaga of the Research District." "Five and eight." Iaja was too preoccupied to notice the drone that stood beside his car, waiting to eat the well-earned coins. He feared he would be fired and relocated (again), he feared the scolding that was sure to accompany his arrival. If only he'd woken up earlier! And now, as if to complicate his life, this mystery had cropped up. Why was he even keeping it a secret? "Five and eight, sir. Five and eight." It didn't matter. Perhaps keeping the canister secret wasn't even important to Iaja, maybe having a secret is what he valued. It had been too many years since he had done anything different, and in the hazy decades before mining from the small hours of the morning into the dark of the night, all he remembered was other dreadful routines. Repairing drones, crafting mass-produced masks, it was all the same. This lifeless life of an ordinary was more than Iaja could bear, and so he swallowed the terror back down in his throat and fantasized about who buried the canister there. Was it some hero from an era forgotten? "It is our stance as the Turaga that the Collapse is an inevitable tragedy--" "Five and eight." "--and that all Matoran should continue their lives until the Engineering District is able to treat it. It is a heavy burden for all of us to carry, but we should not let tragedy stand in the way of our duty." The nonsensical song of the banal morning. "Five and eight," buzzed the drone, louder than before. It almost seemed angry, Iaja thought as he snapped out of his daydream. "Sorry, sorry," he said and deposited fifty-eight Manas credits. "Incorrect denominations," buzzed the drone. Someone on a different television bemoaned inflation and Iaja silently concurred. Elsewhere a laugh track echoed joylessly. ​*** Work seemed to drag like molasses and passed uneventfully. A deeper hole in the ground and no more resources for the slowly dying city. All Iaja could seem to think about was the canister that he'd hidden in the pouch where his canteen belonged. By the time the evening buzzer sounded notifying the end of the work day, Iaja felt like he could collapse. No, he thought. Rest comes later. There was one thing on his mind. He needed to find a way to open the canister. He'd thought about it the night before, and it haunted the bits of sleep he did manage to catch, and again all day he thought of nothing but the mysterious canister. With such a cryptic message carved into it in such an ancient manner of text, the canister clearly contained something important. That meant that odds were, the container was locked. But where was the key? Unfortunately for Iaja, the miners in his division had been switched to a different tunnel system. Simply no signs of a new seam of ore had shown up for months, and the place had been mined so heavily that the integrity of the rock was suffering. A cave-in was imminent. Just one more look, he thought. The key has to be somewhere around there. Iaja navigated the system as best he could, but within an hour he was treading unknown ground: a cobwebbed and abnormally wide tunnel that looked like it had been abandoned centuries ago. As he surveyed the wide and dark tunnel with his lightstone, he realized he was horribly, horribly lost. He first found himself cursing his poor navigation skills. What if he didn't have enough time left in the night to look for the key? Then the severity of the situation set in. He'd heard plenty of stories of miners who lost their way and never returned. Starvation, the cold temperatures, cave-ins, even wild Rahi were dangers below the surface of the earth. It's fine, he thought. I'll just retrace my steps. Still, he knew this was much easier said than done. His inattentiveness to the surroundings were the reason he was lost in the first place. A sound interrupted his train of thought. At first it was distant, but soon it grew obvious that the sound was a voice and a pair of footsteps, growing ever closer. First he was overjoyed. Someone was here to help him! But quickly the apprehension rose up in the back of his mind. No workers were supposed to be here so late. This could be one of many hostile things. Some authority figure there to punish him, some tunnel dwelling maniac... Iaja concealed his lightstone and plunged himself into darkness. He flattened himself against the wall and tried to silence his breathing. Was that... singing? Nonsense words, Iaja realized. Perhaps this truly was some kind of maniac. The voice certainly sounded nonthreatening. Elderly and vacant. "Hello? Who's there?" "Ba-doo, ba-dee, ba-diddly-doop. Is that a lost Matoran I hear?" the voice echoed back. "Yes," said Iaja. He hesitantly took his lightstone back out. "And who are you?" There to greet Iaja was a black and green mask, ancient and chipped. The Turaga's eyes looked carefree and joyful, but not without giving the impression of a man with a few screws loose in the head. "Why, none other than Turaga Korym!" -------------------- Review.

That's sort of funny because post-2003 Lehvak-Kal was one of my oooooooold fanfic characters. Unoriginal I guess but I was pretty young, but that's pretty much how it appeared in the story Thanks, @xccj, I'm thinking about how to handle a blended piece. Doing anything with transparent plastic is pretty tough anyway since scratching or chipping or sanding it basically renders that spot opaque. Then again I doubt the shell will need much modification if I want to keep it clear.

I've been thinking of repainting a model--either an Agori (specifically Atakus) or a Bohrok--to give it some cool weather. I'm picking these sets specifically because they look pretty great out of the box without requiring modifications to beef them up or make them look better from another angle, and articulation won't really matter. I don't have any Bohrok on hand though. Are they blended translucent-opaque pieces, or is the opaque part painted on? i can't quite remember and if it's blended I'll have a harder time doing the Bohrok than Atakus.

Review for Early Sunsets. I'll definitely make this a snazzier-looking review page later.

[ REVIEW ] Chapter One: Fog of War Late again. Iaja's eyes wandered about the filling station as the drones went about their business with other customers. To his right, a fuel pump. To his left, a dingy coffee shop where Matoran stood in line, the humdrum day just beginning for them. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon... thought Iaja, enviously eyeing the vehicles receiving fuel. Couldn't these drones move any faster? "The Collapse continues exponentially as the Manas-Meds work tirelessly to find a cure." Iaja couldn't help but overhear the woman on the news on the television blaring from inside the coffee shop. It was a grim-faced De-Matoran, and beside her sat a Manas-Med, unnervingly still. "However, their efforts continue to prove inconclusive. With me is Doctor Korlyk, head technician of the Engineering District, here to detail the conundrum of the Collapse." It seemed as if Iaja was all but ignored by the drones. There's no way that Le-Matoran in the Kualsi Mk. III cruiser got here before him. The tired faces in the coffee shop all seemed to be different from the faces earlier. Any moment now the boss would be calling in a fit of rage. Iaja's eyes flickered to his cell phone as the doctor on TV spoke in a clipped monotone. "It's... it's really quite simple you see. Simple biology. All life that begins someday ends. It's finite. Matoran have a life span. It's evident in some lower-level Rahi. The Koryl Bull, for example. It's created with... with viruses, yes, yes. Matoran, as you know, outlive Koryl by centuries. But what's the difference? We synthesize more. Well, with the Makuta's help. We synthesize new Koryl to maintain the ecosystem. Matoran though? Not so simple. It's been taught--nay...it's been, it's been ingrained into us that we're... that we're not like Rahi, that we're different. Of course, of course you're familiar with the mythological Makers, but we... the Manas-Meds that is... maintain our position that the Makers and any being capable of just... of just creating new Matoran out of thin air or scrap parts are mere hocus-pocus." "Six and three." Iaja tapped the dash impatiently. "Six and three, sir. Six and three." Iaja jumped in his seat, realizing he was being addressed by a drone. "Sorry," he muttered, fumbling through his coin purse for cash. He deposited six coins that shone like mirrors and three deep black ones into the drone's coin slot. "Incorrect denominations," the drone buzzed. "To fuel your tank please deposit six hundred and thirty Manas credits." Iaja cursed the Collapse-era inflation under his breath as he fished six of the coveted glowing blue coins out of his purse. As the drone pumped fuel loudly into his Gadunka I buggy, the phone began to buzz violently. As if things couldn't be worse. Iaja was broke, his boss was angry, and the unfeeling robot currently filling his buggy seemed to be smirking directly at him. And his clunker of a vehicle, and his empty wallet. Iaja picked up the phone. "Hello! Hello, sir. I'm sorry. Traffic is a beast today." "Where in Karzahni's name are you?" "Almost there. Two blocks away," he lied. "I'm giving you until seven. You'd better be here with bells on." Or else, Iaja couldn't help but finish Arlok's sentence for him. "Yes, sir." The line went dead. "Extending Matoran life beyond what it was built for is a biological impossibility. If you ask me--nay, any of the Manas-Meds--" "Have a nice day," buzzed the drone. "--we should be more invested in the birth of new Matoran. Whether through synthesis, cloning, reproduction." Iaja put the Gadunka in gear and zoomed out of that horrible, greasy place. * * * The job was fairly simple. It was, more or less, comprised of two simple steps. Lift. Swing. Lift. Swing. Seams of precious minerals--Protosteel, Lightstone, and the like--seemed to have waned just as Matoran life had these days. Still in the heavy daze of sleep, Iaja found himself wishing he'd hopped out of his buggy and grabbed a cup of coffee while he had the chance. Lift. Swing. Lift. Swing. It was almost like a rhythm. Iaja could picture a grim song in his head, a mining song. Perhaps it would have come clearer to him if the chamber hadn't been full of other Fe-Matoran hacking away at the tunnel wall, but that didn't stop him from humming and dreaming of a fanciful life as a musician. No physical labor there. Just admiration from crowds of fans. Lift. Swing. Lift. Swing. Clang. The sound knocked Iaja out of his dream world. Arlok had ordered him to arrive with bells on, and this was some sort of bell if he'd ever heard one. After a months-long dry spell in the mines, had he finally discovered a new seam? Iaja discreetly produced his hydraulic chisel. Selfish? Maybe. But if anyone got the credit for finding some precious ore deep in the ground, it was going to be him. Iaja, of course, was one of the few runts with a target painted on his forehead, waiting for Arlok to condemn him to the unemployment line. One more strike with the pick, to ensure he wasn't just hearing things. A definitive clang echoed through the cave. Iaja nodded to himself. There was certainly something in the wall. He yanked the pull string of the chisel and went to work. Chipping away at walls like this was always unpleasant. Though the future typically held a pay raise or at the very least something to brag about, the vibrating tool seemed to shake him to the very core from the moment it hit rock. His neighboring Matoran eyed him suspiciously, now fully aware that he'd found something interesting and potentially valuable. Iaja ignored these stares and kept at it. Careful not to strike too much metal, he traced a path around the protruding mineral. At this point he could see its color and luster well: the metal was a dark silver, and had very little shine to it. It was, disappointingly, not Protosteel or even Lightstone, but it looked nearly identical to the mineral used to make one-credit coins. Better than nothing, he supposed. With admittedly less care Iaja continued to chip around the metal when its form began to become evident. The object was cylindrical. No, upon further observation Iaja realized it was a small canister embedded in the earth. Iaja had never dreamed of unearthing some mystery or hidden treasure under the earth in Manas. This discovery, though, sent his mind racing with excitement. Regardless of the contents of this canister, someone concealed it under meters of pure rock. It could be junk for all Iaja cared. It was treasure to him. It seemed the Fe-Matoran around him had returned to their work when they realized Iaja wasn't up to anything important. Iaja continued furiously though, working carefully to dislodge the container from its spot embedded in the rock. C'mon, he urged the mysterious object in his head. C'mon c'mon c'mon... With a resounding crack a sizable chunk of rock came loose from the wall and knocked Iaja onto his behind. First embarrassed deeply, he looked around and noticed the worker Jaga around him were too engrossed in their work to spare a glance at the Matoran who had fallen flat on his back. Iaja groaned and heaved the stone off his body, and with it the canister popped out of its hiding spot and rolled across the floor before coming to rest at Iaja's feet. Iaja shook off the pain of the impact and quickly grabbed the tube in front of him. He realized how suspicious he looked in the midst of all this confusion, so he swiftly pocketed it in his tool belt. Commotion notwithstanding, the Matoran around him seemed as engrossed in their labor as before. A Matoran with his reputation certainly couldn't attract too many wandering eyes for slipping and falling, or even finding a small amount of scrap metal. But this was certainly far from scrap metal. The day dragged on slower than Iaja's old Gadunka. The monotony of hitting a wall repeatedly was only exacerbated by the anticipation that lay ahead. Patience finally paid off, though. The majority of workers had abandoned this particular chamber in search of ores and minerals elsewhere, leaving Iaja in a fairly quiet chamber with plenty of room for privacy. He took out the canister carefully, as if handling something incredibly fragile, and took a closer look. It was rounded at the top, and twisting and pulling the cap proved futile. It seemed to be warped or even locked. It became evident that this canister hid something within. Perhaps even something valuable. In fact the thought that it contained something important or expensive was the only thing stopping Iaja from chiseling his way through it. Iaja sighed and took a seat on the hard ground. In his frustration he nearly pocketed the object again. That is, until he saw something written in an odd script. Rather than the hexagon-shaped glyphs he was used to reading, these were circular. Aside from the shape and odd dialect, though, the language was readable. Iaja brushed out the dust trapped in the crevices of the text and read: The Fog of War lives within us all. -------------------- Review.

gosh i was estimating down (they were like $12 or $13 american dollars if i recall correctly, i remember getting the toa nuva for like eight bucks) according to google thats like $15 in american, yeesh regardless i could take V-N's advice and see if later-year first circulation bionicle sets age well. after all it IS tough to find decent prices on 2001-2003 sets.

Cool. Cool cool cool. Did that at the store and they're being sold in the $10-30 range, I guess between "I need to get rid of these old toys might as well make some cash" and people who are a little too hopeful. The sort of "research" I implied is if BZPgoers value sealed sets at all because I don't like all the added fees etc that eBay involves 'specially if I'm selling low. Though I guess anyone with a bit of intelligence would check eBay for competitive prices. Hmph I'm totally not cut out for this i guess...... not all the cans are the same........what's the differance........the selection has too many .................... PRICES and VALUES it is so INFUUUUUURIATING. whare's the manager (and now. the police are involved AHAHAHAHAH omg i cant BELIEVE what she made take place)

The batteries are indeed working, which is one of the things I've taken into consideration. You can always replace the batteries but that requires unsealing the package so I feel like that might add value? I know Lego isn't exactly the same as, say, Gundam or My Little Pony where sealed packages are often worth more than the toy itself..with Lego I guess it's the pieces that are probably worth more. But who knows I'm not too acquainted with collectors and maybe somebody would like an unopened canister. Regardless I'm willing to sell them for $10 and no less instead, considering they have all the pieces and are in top shape. I think I'll hit up B/S/T later and do some research

i always hit the thrift shops to find old bionicles and lo and behold i hit the motherload. of course i couldnt resist opening the ones i've never owned before (visorak are REALLY COOL, i missed out on those ones) however i have sealed: nuparu inika kongu inika hahli inika jaller inika matoro inika i'm thinking of selling them for $20 each...is this too much of a bargain or too expensive? I think the fact they're still sealed up gives them a lot more value. if i manage to pick up a sealed hewkii somewhere i'll probably sell the lot for $60-$100 depending on how much people care about the canisters being shut who knows maybe they contain rare misprints.......ooooo spooky

it has like a million hellraiser movies and donnie darko and heathers (and the langoliers, a guilty pleasure of mine) for which i will be eternally grateful but i've recently stopped using netflix in favor of hulu plus because of the ridiculous anime library they have there imo having netflix and hulu plus together is far superior to actually having cable or satellite tv or whatever. streaming is the future of television, or at least orange is the new black, arrested development, and house of cards lead me to believe.

ive been internet-less at my new apartment for a few weeks but the modem finally arrived so hopefully i can be more active on BZP. what are the HOTTEST RPGS right now. i have an idea for a shape shifting bard-slash-assasin and a ladies-man merchant Turaga

Atakus's alien blades seem far too coincidental, imo, to be any sort of solid proof. If he had, say, protodermic blades, I'd be on the Atakus train 100% riding it to Atakus-is-guilty-town. The fact that there aren't any named sentient planets outside Spherus Magna (and its chunks) plus the Mata Nui robot does give a bit of credibility to the Atakus argument (his blades were explicitly stated to be alien technology, so they're obviously not just, yknow, made out of space matter or something). I'm not debating Atakus, but if you ask me anything inside the MU isn't quite alien to Spherus Magna, considering the MU was made on Spherus Magna. Am I being too literal? Probably, considering the intelligent life in the MU was just as capable of creation as the intelligent life outside of it. But blades don't seem to be very solid evidence to me. I'm gonna go ahead and be a hypocrite here and go on purely coincidental evidence but I think Kiina is fairly suspect, for the aforementioned reasons about her space stuff. Also this is PURELY INSTINCT with NO EVIDENCE but I feel like Surel might still be relevant to the story.

we've discussed this on that blue blogging site, i'm pretty sure. we were responsible for at least thousands of users breaking the admittedly ludicrous sig size rules

what the blog are you blogging about, sonic the hedgeblog?? please blog about my favorite kaiju, hedorah

you're welcome