Seraphimon

IC: He should have left quicker. Before the crowds had time to gather, before the clammer of people filled the air and broke the beautiful, calm quiet, like a boulder in a placid lake. Klavier sighed. Every time. EVERY time. It must be some sort of bizarre cultural quirk of this island: every time you started throwing people out of buildings, people started getting testy. Of course, that brought up thoughts of where he USED to live, and that was absolutely no good. No good at all. Klavier generally tried to avoid thoughts of the Bad Times if at all possible. Slowly, the noise died down and Klavier heard a voice call from beyond the hole he had made. "I'd commend you on such a throw, but I feel like you're probably too drunk to understand the compliment." Drunk? He thought, frowning. I don't feel drunk. Why would she think I'm drunk? "I think maybe if you waited in a nice tank for a while you'd be able to appreciate it," she called through the opening, "How's that sound big guy?" Klavier scratched at his eye bandage. "I'm not sure I like the sound of waiting around anywhere for any particular amount of time. Seems like a waste of minutes better spent elsewhere." His voice had a foreign lilt to it; not just foreign to Mata-Nui, but foreign to the language he was speaking as well. It sounded uncomfortable, like an ill-fitting shoe. "I have no problems with leaving. After all, I was just about to go." He took a step forward, then stopped for a moment, lost in thought. "Unless...hmmm...you wouldn't happen to be interested in the Prophecy, would you? The Song of Things Unseen and Things Unspoken? Or perhaps the Chain of Softly Metered Memory?" He played with the hilt of his sword. I could bring enlightenment to this dark place.

IC: The pub was one of the finest establishments in Ta-Koro, home to pretty decent food and several excellent vintages from across Mata-Nui(and even, it was whispered, beyond the island). It was compact and warm, usually full of friendly conversation and friendly people. It was an upper class establishment for midranking soldiers and well-off merchants. At night, there were some less savory types that would arrive, but the owner had hired a large, ex-Guard bouncer to keep things in order. It was a well-run, well-visited establishment, full of laughter even in these dark, troubling times. Right now, however, the bar was completely silent. Conversation dropped to a halt as all attention fell on the giant Toa with the massive sword, making his way through his fifth glass of heavy wine and showing no signs of the alcohol affecting him in the slightest. His name was Klavier. He was the Prophet. He had come to stop the world from burning. Klavier frowned and thought about questions. He had a few good ones. Actually, a few really good ones. Questions like: "How did I get here? Why am I here? How much will all the alcohol I'm consuming cost me?" He moved his hands along the side of his glass, feeling the smooth pewter between his oversized fingers and listening to the soft whispers of the last few dregs of Le-Koro Red. New question: even if I did know how much these drinks were running me, what goes for money here? For a brief moment, he considered simply walking out, right there and then. He was a big man with a large sword and he had found himself in similar situations. They usually involved tossing people aside and making some vague threats OR they might just assume he was an insane blind Toa ravaged by some far-off war and let him go on his way. It happened. However, usually people who assumed he was an insane blind Toa ravaged by some far-off war never let him near the alcohol anyway and tried to lead him to some home conveniently located far, far away from their establishment. So this bartender probably assumed he had all of his marbles. Klavier leaned back and listened to the wind. He could hear the clink of glasses, the creak of tables, and the soft rhapsody of the barman wiping down the bar. Disturbingly, he did not hear any conversation even though he could smell upwards of nine people. Uh oh. Not this again. Presumably, he had weirded out the bar. So, with a sudden motion, Klavier grabbed his pack and his sword and slung both across his back with practiced ease. With the wind, he could hear the tables and the people and moved past them with practiced grace, like a leaf through a gale. The bouncer, a stout Ta-Matoran who only came up to Klavier's massive chest, moved to intercept. His voice cracked the silence like a egg shattering against a mixing bowl. "Sir, you can't leave without paying." "I don't have any money," said Klavier plaintively. Might as well tell the truth. "Sir, if that is the case, then I will have to call the guard. I'm going to have to ask you to stay there while some-" Time to play the insane blind Toa card. "That seems rather ridiculous," Klavier said, his face darkening, "I thought the booze was free! I can't read! How am I supp-" "I'm sorry, but that's absolutely ridiculous," said the Matoran, somehow managing to look intimidating despite the height difference, "How could you expect to go to a pub, especially a fine establishment such as this one and expect to not pay?? It boggles the mind." "What boggles my mind," said Klavier with an exaggerated hand gesture to show his righteous anger, "is how poorly you treat the disabled here in your establishment. No one read a menu to me or guided me to my chair. It's an absolute miracle I got where I was going without tripping someone's table over." "That's enough, sir. I'm going to ask you to-" With a sigh, Klavier reached forward and lightly grabbed the bouncer's head. Alright, that's enough of this. He was going to get run out of town but such is life. The Matoran briefly started struggling but wasn't able to get very far in his struggle before Klavier tossed him through a wall. There a thud, a snapping of timbers, and another thud in quick succession as the Matoran hit the wall, flew through the wall, and hit the ground on the other side. Unsurprisingly, no one immediately moved to intercept the blind Prophet. All hail the savior of the world, tossing short ones through bar walls. What am I doing here? More questions.

I've got Tuara open for interaction in Ta-Koro if you want. She's not really doing anything and it's been a long time since I've done a regular interaction, as it's been for you. Hahaha why not? Let's see what I'm still capable of doing.

So I made a character. For better or worse. What should I do now, guys?

Toa Smeagol was the one who was so infamous for doing that over and over but I'm positive you had me beat in terms of sheer numbers. EACH NEW FORM MORE RADICAL AND CRAZY THAN THE LAST. Can you believe I actually kept my promise with GK about never bringing Muurahk back? Not once did I resurrect her - and she was my favourite character I ever played. Haha that was almost ten years ago, wasn't it? Ahhhh, that war was amazing. Who was GM then?? I remember -X- got banned or something, who took over in his stead and tried to stifle the greatest player-made war in the game's history with Turaga Dume's military might? Weren't there super Vahki too(Dark Lord Emperor Vahki or something)?

How many times do you think our characters have died and then been subsequently reborn? I'm pretty sure I'm up in the double digits.

There is no such thing as too much cyberpunk. Just sayin. EDIT: I have read none of the entries and I doubt I will play in any of them...but just sayin.

I also remember the first non-Mata-Nui island we went to. Shockingly, the BZPRPG was fairly canonical up to this point. Takua and Makuta squared off but our characters fell onto a bizarre island of the current GM's own creation(I can't remember the name, unfortunately). As a punishment for how rampant godmodding was at the time, the island was populated by super-powerful Rahi that could take out a group of unprepared players pretty easily. Then we ended up on Metru-Nui and started the first great Lightbringer/Darkbringer war over Xa-Koro. Ahhhhh, those were the days.

I'm depressed that my name isn't on that poster. Sadface. I think the highlight of the time without power limits was when Lloyd(who will always be Wysp to me) decided that I was overstepping my bounds as a GM and proceeded to have one character dump a volcano on my army of reality warping demigods. Then there was the time I blew up the multiverse. not just Metru-Nui, but the entire multiverse. By a race who reproduced by blowing up universes. Their generals included an immortal shapeshifter, a guy who used swords to control up to twelve different elements AT THE SAME TIME, and (one of my favorite characters I've made) a guy who wore a fur cloak, used form-shifting crystal rings as weapons, and despite being more powerful than almost anyone else in the RPG, only canonically used 1/7th of his power at any given moment. It's also worth noting that none of these characters were the big bad of this monster of an arc, who was actually a giant shadow monster god who was trying to rewrite the entire multiverse in his image. BUT I WAS IN CHARGE, GUYS, IT'S ALL OKAY.

Heeeey Smeeeeag what's happenin'? Also, still accepting applications for the teachings. Probably up until Tuesday. Gonna start reading them pretty soon.... Maaan some of this stuff gets me longing for the OLD DAYS. Oh, the stories I could tell you guys... Like, remember the time when I created a race of demigods whose sole purpose was to destroy worlds to power their spaceship and reproduce? Or the time I created who literally had up to seven split personalities at one point? Or the one time we destroyed Metru-Nui? Good times.

Hey, Emzee, you're still around! Also, Bane of No Isles, I definitely got both of your PMs. Hopefully they fix whatever issue is causing people to think they aren't sending because they are definitely sending even if the site won't recognize them as sending. Just close out of the window after it sends. Not sure what's wrong with PMing but the application window will remain open until this stuff gets fixed. Messages are still sending, I think, it's just really hard to tell.

I see the messages, I can view the message, but it looks like it won't tell me when I actually get new messages. I DO get messages though. So, I have gotten stuff from Meta-Mind, Riaril, Varren Rehn, and Elrond of Rivendell. So if you've sent me stuff, and you're not one of those people, I have not gotten it. My inbox is well and properly spammed.

So, I've been thinking about it and while I certainly don't have time to commit to full-on RP, I think it might be a good idea to spread the wealth, so to speak, and share my experience in other ways. I'll be taking on a small number of "students" or "proteges" so to speak. Two or three might be a good number. What exactly will we do? Who knows? You'll write and I'll talk at you about it. Up to the task? Send me a PM(or whatever people use these days) with a list of three of your best posts you've made. DON'T write new material specifically to impress me. I want to see what you're writing about now without me looking over your shoulder. Let's see what happens.

If I thought I had time, I would. I really would. Right now, though, BZPower is acting as a beautiful catalyst of procrastination.

Well, I knew that Nuju was a GM(head GM in fact) but I do recall that position tending to create a strange affliction, an affliction of disappearing. If you catch my drift.

Ten years ago is now the Time Before Time, the nameless aether between grade school and the eventual ascension to Collegehood. Things I've learned since: 1. Actual fantasy > anime as far as stealing character ideas 2. Personality dictates powers 3. Writing all-powerful gods are not that fun, but writing people who think they are gods is 4. Most of roleplaying is dialogue so brush up on your exposition to flesh out those two-line posts. 5. You can never do enough eyebrow-cocking. 6. Failure is infinitely more satisfying to write than success 7. Split personalities. Not even once. I've started writing what I hope to be my first published novel. Exciting times. It's good to see some people that I recognize...or rather, it's good to see EW aka Arya Stark. Looking back, I recognize some of Eryu's past incarnations. Is Nuju Metru still around doing stuff? I remember when he first joined during the post-Metru-Nui reboot...I remember designing Tabula Rasa(or whatever we called it) and the sky city that followed it. Has it really been ten years? Oh maaaan. EDIT: Also, 3000 posts. Finally. hahaha.

This is why I hate nostalgia visits. I don't recognize ANYONE anymore which means I've gotten really old. How's the old ship holding out? Still pretty active? Who's in charge? Is Friar Tuck still around? I doubt I'll start RPing again but every time I come to the site I'm astounded that there are still people that care about writing about a discontinued plastic toy line running around an imaginary tropical island. Not that that's a bad thing. My writing got considerably better as a result of this silly little site. For those still around, carry the legacy. We'll all be better off for it.

IC: Though Perxin saw, out of the corner of his eye, the crazy professor from before(I don't even know what to think of him anymore, he thought) but Perxin simply ignored him. The Toa of Fire simply didn't have the time or the inclination to deal with crazies right then and there. I'm having a hard enough time dealing with myself.He looked this new professor, this Kaccio, straight in the eyes. "Hello. I was told that you have...the ability to interpret dreams."

IC: It was perhaps more trouble than it was ever worth to find this guy. Perxin wasn't even sure where he was or if that same hut that he had already passed a thousand times before really was that same hut or a different one he had passed earlier. The panic had subsided a bit, the people gradually forgetting the fact that unearthly creatures had been screaming earlier. Life had returned mostly to normal except now Perxin was even more lost because all of his landmarks(such as "hut with five people in it" or "hut with the two really overweight Matoran in it") had returned to a different state. It was enough to make one give up.Until he saw the Toa on the bench. The hut he was standing in was more like a cabin rather than a hut. It even had a porch where the Toa sat, rocking back and forth, cane in his hand. It came to him in a flash of revelation.Have I seen him in a dream before?It was certainly possible and not the first time it had happened, as the events of the morning had proven. It was not his last dream but perhaps some past one...Perxin walked up to the Toa, presumably Kaccio with a stern look on his face."Hello. I am looking for a man named Kaccio. Are you the one I'm looking for?" he asked.

I've been really busy this weekend lol, had a giant paper I had to do and various other forms of drama to deal with.Hopefully I can get back to a regular posting schedule tomorrow.

Star Slight - At the Drive-In

IC:It seemed impossible to believe that Perxin could be even more confused, but it was truly so. The academy seemed to be a minor rush, though panic was too strong of a word. It was controlled chaos as students and teachers walked about, preparing for these so-called "rahkshi". Whatever they were. They certainly seem to have people worried, thought Perxin, blending into the crowd, but I don't understand why. There are so many powerful people here I'm sure. Why would they be concerned about one little Rahi that yells a bunch? It was enough to scare off that would-be bandit. Perxin was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that Toa were just wandering around wherever accosting people like that. Who knows what sort of fight would have ensured if there hadn't been witnesses? Who knows if Perxin would still be living or another victim of these Toa of Ice and Magnetism? The full extent of this conspiracy is mind-boggling, thought Perxin, You'd need to be a pretty hardcore bandit to pretend to be a professor. Maybe this...Paccio guy will know something...unless...Perxin gulped quietly, he's one of them too. Though he had no idea who this mysterious professor was, Perxin continues his search for the mysterious Paccio. He asked a few students, but most either ignored him or gave him incorrect directions, which were utterly useless. No one seemed to know where this man was at the moment.Beautiful, he thought, Absolutely beautiful. Where could he be?

Ddiamondd - Battles

Angels Standing Guard 'round the Side of Your Bed - A Silver Mt. Zion

Check out the bottom of this profile for all Mark-Bearer information.Also, man is some exciting stuff happening or what?! Man it's good to be back.