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Emzee

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  • Birthday 09/01/1989

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  1. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, The Fowadi Makua gave a sly smile. “As it so happens, I am a sellsword by trade. You may also consider my skills as part of additional payment, if the situation comes where they are needed” The conversation was quickly interrupted by the antics of what appeared to be another Lesterin climbing the mast of the Fowadi. “Hah, people these days, am I right?” Makua said, not for a second considering his own methods of getting aboard the massive ship. “Welp, I’ll leave you to it. I pack light, so I’m free to settle in wherever and whenever” Makua looked around the deck of the ship. The structure truly was massive, with multiple entrances to the lower decks. With sword, rations, and widgets on hand, Makua walked away with an air of misplaced confidence in his spatial skills. He was making his way towards whichever entrance was closest, nodding assuredly to the other crewmen on the deck as if he was the captain.
  2. IC: Ra’lhen — Onu-Koro, the Mudpool Inn, A Pool™️ Resort Thanks dad — I had no idea, Ra’lhen thought contemptuously. With the extreme dehydration, along with the disorientation of being in another city, it should not have been surprising to the Toa of Lightning that he was moving and thinking much more slowly than usual. But it was. And Ra’lhen found it difficult to form complete sentences out loud. The harsh truth was that Stannis was right, even if he was just as hungover (or more so) than the Sentinel. He wondered when was the last time the Granite Guardian had gone a such a bender. Regardless, at least it was a night to remember. As soon as Ra’lhen could remember what actually happened. Nothing would ever cure the day’s discomfort, but it would be wholly inaccurate to claim that the breakfast, juice, and waters did not help at least some. Ra’lhen could feel some of his energy returning as he finished the last of his meal. For the rest, he would keep up appearances. His days long ago with the Toa Kodin had been wild on some occasions, especially with uproarious men like Makua and Tailua in his team. Some days they would push Ra’lhen too far, and he’d wake up in a similar state like this. Every time, Ra’lhen would appear more on top of his game than Makua and Tailua — two cadets who ironically put great stock in appearances. Ra’lhen pretended that he was once again leading a team of Toa, and that he was about to deliver important news to someone. It fit, in a way — he was representing the Sentinels. How poor it would look to give the Onu-Koronans a negative view of their discipline. Speaking of which, he’d need to be clean before even considering meeting the famed Toa Maru of Earth. There was already so much working against Ra’lhen, between the hangover and the meeting of yet another man who had every reason to hold a grudge against him because of The Other Guy’s crimes. However, Ra’lhen had repeatedly been surprised at the grace of the Maru. He feared no reprisal from Sulov… so long as Ra’lhen looked respectable. Slowly, Ra’lhen stood up from the table. His balance is one of many things that would take more time to recover. “Meet you back down at the entrance within the hour?” Ra’lhen asked.
  3. IC: Niici — Ko-Koro, Wise Man’s Archive (Backroom) The Toa crossed her arms self-assuredly as Muir and the Archive’s owner walked away. As they departed, Niici glanced around the room full of manuscripts and books and then began to remember the look and layout of the library as she walked in. It was a nice place for sure, and it was curious that she hadn’t heard of it before. Maybe it was new. At any rate, such a calming quiet place would be a popular destination for the studious Ko-Koronans. Like all the other business owners in Ko-Koro and beyond, Niici had an obligation to facilitate a potential relationship with those businesses which showed potential. She would need to make sure she caught the owner’s name. Once things were settled here, she would have much to report on to her staff and to the board of directors. One of those notes would include reaching out to this fellow here. Niici’s suddenly found her train of thought being interrupted by the exchange of a cigarette between Cyrix and Syzygos. She raised an eyebrow and then quickly lowered — it should’ve been obvious the Toa of Air was a smoker. He had the demeanor. She just wished he had better taste in brands. Niici commonly carried her extended slim black cigarette holder with her, in case such opportunities arose like right now. She had begun pulling it out of her jacket pouch when she saw the brand that Syzygos was smoking. As much as she would've loved to partake, no respectable Gentry-fellow would be caught dead smoking a Fusa. She couldn’t risk word getting out about that potentially. And so, the cigarette holder moved back to where it was and rested in her pouch. The air dome beside her got so smoky that she struggled to see inside. She felt like she was said and seen what she needed to, and it would be wise to go back to HQ and process this while it was fresh. The Archive owner, like virtually all establishment owners, would be here when she or a representative got back. With that, she stood up and leaned forward slightly, turning her head to the right, and looking through the smoke at the two Toa. She waved politely and gave a telltale expression of Are we done here?, smiling all the way. OOC: @BULiK @Keeper of Kraata
  4. IC: Wokodin — Po-Koro, Sentinel Headquarters The towering hold which kept the brightest and strongest of Po-Koro’s servicemen was buzzing with a little more activity than usual. Times had become more exciting for the greener Sentinels and Officers in the force. While fear was immediately coursing through many of them like blood through veins, I had accepted this trait as part of the makeup of many of the Po-Koro Sentinels. Hewkii had been a strong leader with a vision, until the tension and intransigents of outsiders ate away at his spine. The Po-Matoran had lost his best friend, his far-away lover, his athletic drive, and now he was without his fame and his badge of office. Many even in my own squad had placed their trust in the newcomer, a Matoran who rose through the ranks by effectively pulling the strings of politics. To be fair, she was a better stateswoman than Hewkii, but could she lead? Would she be there with the clear plan of action when the time came? I didn’t believe so, but it was not first time my experiences, as well as many achievements had been doubted. And in this case, I dared not speak in favor of Hewkii. The political climate had changed too much, and many of my outspoken colleagues were on the outs with the Sentinel organization. Po-Koro needed unwavering leadership and strength to keep itself as the rightful king-state of this island. We have the force, we have the numbers, and we have the technology. And of course, we have me. I thought about this as whispers and murmurs continued in the main hall outside my office. Words traveled quickly as they bounced off the stone walls. Though such words were not always clear, you learned to decipher through the acoustics. I took a swig of coffee from my standard Sentinel mug. I was getting rather impatient. One of my reports, Ra’lhen, had not shown for his briefing. The trip to Ostia was a long but easy one. He should have arrived by now and it was never like him to eschew such responsibility. After setting the mug down on my desk, I rose from my seat and left my office, embracing the cool air of the HQ atrium. This is where much of the chatter took place. Rows of stone slabs hosted busy officers and clerks. My office was on the third floor and I walked up to the stone railing, looking down at the open, busy floor below. Might not hurt to make sure the Sentinel wasn’t lost inside the labyrinthine structure that was the headquarters. Once I trudged down the stairs and arrived at the floor of the atrium, my mail stop had caught my eye. There had been some deliveries, evidently. “Codex of Absolution?” I grumbled softly. Ra’lhen had been tasked by the Akiri to assist in establishing a mutual protection alliance with Stannis Maru. I narrowed my eyes grimly. Either Akiri Lichtgheist had not bothered to look up Ra’lhen’s personnel record, or she was naïve about the Sentinel’s capability and reliability to travel to the dark caverns of Onu-Koro given his past. Or maybe she really trusted Stannis. Unconscionable. Nonetheless, I took refuge in knowing I didn’t need to waste the day waiting around for him. There was plenty to do as it was.
  5. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, The Fowadi “Aye!” The Toa raised his right arm, extending his sword towards the water that separated him from the ship. As the ice raft continued to sink, Makua channeled his energies through the blade and creating a rectangular platform directly under the rope. The sword, originally dubbed the Sword of Vengeance, had been Makua’s trusty Toa tool ever since he was transformed from his Ko-Matoran form. The metal quality was unlike most of the blades that were forged around the island of Mata Nui. Myths spoke of it being made of a different metallic alloy altogether. Some myths also claimed it was forged by the Makuta himself. A weapon perfect for taking him down, if only Makua could have gotten close. Whatever the sword’s true history was, Makua was grateful for the gift. One day, he would need to pay old Toa Olaki his respects once again. Once Makua stepped onto the flat, floating iceberg, the platform began to sink. With minimal effort, Makua sheathed the sword into his back and climbed up onto the massive deck of the Fowadi. He stood proudly as he looked down at the tan and brown Po-Matoran. “Looks even more impressive in person,” Makua said, looking around on the ship deck before looking back at the armored Po-Matoran. “I’m Toa Makua, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Makua said, “Are you the quartermaster?” OOC: @sunflower
  6. That particular game and a bunch of others can be found in the link in this topic.
  7. IC: Niici — Ko-Koro, Wise Man’s Archive (Back Room) Was it studied by the right scientists? Niici thought. Of course, she dared not say that out loud — after all, she knew the answer to that already. Niici knew who her trusted scientists were, and none of them have ever spoke of anything like Antidermis. Which meant they weren’t yet aware of it. Niici filed this in her mind along with everything else that had been said. “Syzygos is a smart man,” Niici said, shifting her gaze to the indignant lawyer as she leaned back, “To let this fear of the unknown keep us from understanding what Antidermis can truly do will only continue to hurt us,” Niici said. She nearly snickered at the “unknown” pun, for reasons only she and a few other people would know. Niici did not want to press the issue too hard. Cyrix clearly detested the idea of Antidermis being helpful in any way. It wouldn’t make sense for her to take a stand against that of all things, considering her very limited knowledge about it. The chairwoman certainly did not want to reveal more about her intentions, while the intentions of the other Toa all seemed nebulous. As blatant as Muir’s conviction seemed, Niici then realized that even he could be putting on an act. She was in a room full of men doing everything in their Toa-power to not show their whole hand. As comfortable as she was now that they were discussing something she had no prior knowledge of, her demeanor and responses would be remembered. She needed to be smart about which topics to pursue. “I suppose we can all agree on its danger,” Niici lied, switching glances between all three of the Toa, “I will, however, still endorse additional research so that we at least have better cures, or possibly immunization” She then gave a self-assured shrug of indifference, “Well those are my thoughts anyway” OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @ARROW404 @BULiK @Goose
  8. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, Naho Bay (near the Fowadi) Standing upright, Makua used his elemental energy as well as his trusty paddle to venture across the water at a surprisingly decent speed for a structure made purely of ice. Up ahead, the massive structure of the Fowadi continued to grow taller, almost consuming Makua’s entire front view. As he felt himself sink, Makua looked down at his paddleboard and applied more ice energy, repairing the parts that were already being consumed by the hungry saltwater. Finally, he heard the call from nearby. It did not take long for someone onboard the Fowadi to notice. “Ahoy there Toa!” the voice came from a Po-Matoran way up on the ship, "What is your business?” Makua craned his head slightly, be careful to not fall backwards off his still-melting paddleboard. Prompt service. I like it, Makua thought. His approval manifested in a polite nod to the crewman. “Ahoy there!” Makua responded, raising his voice so that the Po-Matoran could hear him from up there. “I heard you’re taking a tour around the island on your way to Ostia. How much for a passenger like myself? Like I told the Lesterin over there, I’ve got the coin if you’ll take it”
  9. IC: Ra’lhen the Sozzled Sentinel — Onu-Koro, the Mudpool Inn, A Pool™️ Resort Auughgghh kill me… Ra’lhen winced at the loud sound that roughly sounded like his name. His head rested on top of his arms as he rested on a table near the tavern wall. While the muted illumination that came with being underground helped a bit with the Vo-Toa’s sensitive vision, every single noise felt like a hammer to the head with no way of shielding himself. Instinctively, he looked up to see a tall figure stumbling towards him. “Stan?” Ra’lhen mumbled half-coherently. With all the effort he could muster, he raised his head and ever-so-slowly began to stand up. We never made it to rooms did we? Ra’lhen thought. Indeed, the answer was self-evident: the tavern was empty save for the two of them and some staff. He looked across from him to see Stannis sitting quite miserably at the very table that were in last night. He was slowly making his way over there when he heard some quick-paced footsteps. Outside the tavern, the clean-looking Ga-Toa who flirted with Ra’lhen last night was briskly leaving the inn. Possibly sensing the pair of eyes on her, she turned to look at Ra’lhen, her expression changing from neutral to shocked once she realized who she was looking at and his current state. Ra’lhen looked down at his chest armor to see he had also looked like he was dragged through the mud — with a respectable amount of vomit all things considered. The Ga-Toa sped up her pace, an embarrassed and understandably disgusted expression on her face. She nearly leapt onto the first Ussal that slowed down, barely breaking her stride and riding as fast towards the southern highway as the crab’s legs could take her. “Yeah… that’s understandable,” Ra’lhen murmured. He sighed. The Sentinel had generally been consigned to patrolling Ostia and given his spiky woeful reputation with his “fellow” guard mates, Ra’lhen rarely got to go out drinking. Even the Ostian bartenders would sometimes give him trouble if he wasn’t there on duty. His protection, they would accept. His friendship was always another story. He was woefully out of practice for having a night on the town, and this morning showed that. Listless and loopy, Ra’lhen ambled clumsily towards the bar, the Onu-Koronan attendant clearly dreading the approach. “Excuse me. Could me and my friend over there get a couple large waters and some breakfast menus?” * * * “You know,” Ra’lhen drawled as their food was being carried over. He was already on his third water. “At least the sun’s not making things worse down here. I’ll give this wild town credit for that”. His meal consisted of a double order of large Toa-serving waffles, Mahi sausage, and a heaping serving of Husi eggs over-hard, with bowl of fresh fruit supposedly grown from the one of the underground gardens in the Onu-Wahi caves. It was his go-to for situations like this. He wondered if Stannis also had a dependable meal for mornings like this. That’s when, randomly, the fraction of thought spliced into many colliding thoughts gave way to a question Ra’lhen decided to ask then and there. “Weren’t we supposed to meet someone?” By the Great Spirit, the Vo-Toa’s head was so poisoned from the night before that he had forgotten why they even came to Onu-Koro in the first place. OOC: @Umbraline Yumiwa
  10. IC: Niici — Ko-Koro, Wise Man’s Archive (Back Room) Once again, Niici’s expression remained neutral. Cyrix was to the point, and his now solemn visage gave Niici the clue that whatever negative qualities the Toa had espoused about the mutagen, there was something personal tied with it. To Niici, however, nothing was personal in business. She heard the words “potent mutagen” and her mind began to race. After all, she herself was the victim of a birth mutation that required her to consume daily dosages of a rare herbal cocktail to stay alive. She herself funded various research projects concerning the elemental properties of Matoran and how mutations might affect those properties. Subtly, Niici hardened her jawline to avoid appearing too interested or interested in the wrong way. After a moment, she responded. “Sounds destructive. And of course the Piraka and Legacy saw fit to use this mutagen because it benefit them more than it hurt them. It sounds like this Antidermis is both a boon and a bane: a single substance that can heal your allies and hurt your enemies in one fell swoop” Niici leaned back, considering the implications of her words, “That would be… a game changer” She then looked to Cyrix, “I would love to get you whatever help you need with investigating that. I know some people at Nuju-Marion who can… reprioritize things, if that’s what it takes.” She assumed those people had survived the Ko-Koro occupation, but she would cross that bridge if she came to it. OOC: @ARROW404 @Goose @BULiK @Keeper of Kraata
  11. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, Southern docks “Bet” The view of the massive Sentinel warship was unmistakable. Even when sitting amongst the newly arrived warships of Dasakan people, the style and flair that the Fowadi had was distinctive. This made it easy for Makua to focus his elemental energies. An icy pole extended bidirectionally from Makua’s right hand, while an icesheet that resembled a surfboard appeared to rise from beneath the warm salt waters of Ga-Koro. In a quick moment, the Lesterin Sentinel would notice that Makua was off of the docks and now in the water atop the icy paddleboard. Even better, his trusty paddle helped him venture across the water at a surprisingly decent speed for a structure made purely of ice.
  12. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, Southern docks A trip `round the island? Makua had always considered such an adventure along the seas. Sure, he had visited every Wahi many times over with his various assignments, but that was always for work. Traveling to Ga-Koro for pleasure had been quiet an experience so far, what with returning dragons and crystal armored Matoran and Toa-like beings running around. Perhaps visiting the other villages in a similar context would be similarly interesting. Very unlikely, but it was worth a shot. At the very least, he could get some more leads for future assignments once his vacation ended. “That just sweetens the deal,” Makua said, “Sign me up once the quartermaster gets here — or better yet, I could go to them if they’re close by” Makua briefly appeared to look around at anyone else who looked like they were part of the Fowadi crew. “You might’ve noticed I don’t have the busiest of schedules today,” Makua added.
  13. IC: Niici — Ko-Koro, Wise Man’s Archive (Back Room) Niici’s eyes flitted but the Toa’s composure stayed as solid as ice. In fact, she was too still. After a breath, she relaxed her shoulders and her eyes softened. She appeared almost relieved, yet her facial expression mostly remained neutral. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that is,” Niici said finally, “Other than — I suppose — being some sort of weapon or tool used by the Legacy” Niici did genuinely feel more relaxed now that a foreign term came into play. If this was the direction the discussion was going then she could only gain from participating. Ignorance, every once in a while, could be a useful tool when granted. Whatever she learned today could prove to be useful to her or to one of her business partners. “This sounds like the start to an interesting story I'm about to hear. What is this 'Antidermis'?” the chairwoman asked expectantly. OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Goose
  14. IC: Tailua — Ostia, Mid levels The clientele had definitely changed noticeably from the people on the highest and outermost levels of the pueblo-like structures. Tailua was still able to appreciate the sea-salt smell of the beachside, and the view of Leva Bay under the clear skies was rejuvenating. It was a rare sight to Tailua back when he lived out here with his fellow miscreants. They lived within the inner wards of the settlement, The Dancing Crab being a common get-together spot away from all but the most bullheaded Sentinel officers. The people hustling and bustling around him were not the ruffians that he was used to. No, on the mid-levels, the people were much like their positioning in the stacked homes: they were in the middle. They were not affluent enough to be on the outer edges of the settlement with clear views of Leva Bay and the white beach, but those people were not so concerned about that. From Tailua’s previous observations of them, the folks who lived out here feared being cast down into the deepest levels of Ostia, crammed in the inner caves. There, only destitution and desperation roamed — often in the form of roving gangs and drunk beggars. Down there, Tailua and his friends ruled — or at least, they ruled their one corner block. Tailua’s team comprised of impalpable thieves and bruisers who would avenge those thieves if one was ever compromised. It was fantastic work with people who were loyal and capable. Makua could never stand to be around such low-class people, despite actually having few differences from them. As such, the ruffians were largely Tailua’s friends. Before entering the middle levels of the port settlement, Tailua had smartly moved his coinpurse to his front. The people at the bottom had nothing to steal, so the thieves largely depended on people in the mid levels to give them the scraps that they needed. It did not matter that such people only needed to lose a coinpurse or two worth of riches to end up forever in the same depths as these thieves; the mid level dwellers were affluent compared to the desperate beggars below, and few pickpockets were brave enough to take from the people on the highest levels. Tailua continued placing fliers for the Po-Koro Tech Emporium on the walls and he was now heading deeper into the clefts of the settlement. The view of the beachside that had given Tailua energy was now obscured by stone building and cave walls. The fliers that Tailua was distributing featured the newest products that they had to offer at prices that he knew the people living here could afford. Sure, the models accessible to them would have less bells and whistles, but these dwellers could afford them. After completing about 3/4s of his planned route, Tailua got that all-too-known feeling of being watched. He was now deep within what he called the “backside” of Ostia. This was where it was darkest and the town blocks felt more like the caves of Onu-Koro. His coinpurse was still at his front and perfectly safe. Now that he was in the inner caves of Ostia, some bandits could be more emboldened to see if they could bring home a hefty prize. Tailua turned a corner and stopped, leaning back against the rocky wall of a meat market. His subconscious had detected footsteps behind him as well as shadows that remained in his peripheral vision longer than what was normal. But such distinct sounds of metal shoe on cobblestone street ceased only a few seconds after Tailua stopped walking. He turned his head to his right and concentrated while he put his bundle of fliers away in his backpack. On instinct, he looked directly upwards, checking for any crevices above where someone could get the drop on him. As a former bruiser to a band of thieves, Tailua knew all the tricks. However, Tailua saw nothing but light pouring out of a pair of square windows above him. The would-be robbers would have to quickly break into this meat market, run up the stairs to the second floor (where the owner’s family almost certainly lived) and bust through these windows right about now. That would draw many eyes though, and Tailua would’ve heard commotion. No, it was clear his possible-followers — if they were following him — needed to not be seen. Tailua gave a huff and continued walking deeper into the cavern-like alley, joining the crowds of people trying to get to where they were going. Behind him, two hooded figures turned a corner and trailed him. They both had eyes trained on the porky red Toa, but were now benefiting from the crowds of Matoran, Skakdi, Vortixx, and Lesterin giving them ample concealment. ??? — Ostia, Mid level alleyway On the opposite end of the alley, towards the bright light and views of the water, the lithesome, hooded figure strode forward. Far ahead, through the throngs of traders and herders, was where her target ambled. At the rate this waif was going, they would meet head on. If the routing of her teammates was correct, the other two cloaked figures would be trailing behind the Toa of Fire. Not here, the Waif thought. She knew that her companions knew this too. They were not down deep enough, and they all knew that Tailua would not pass up an opportunity to meet with his old friends down at the lowest levels of Ostia. Their target was almost done with this route, and they needed to trail him until he reached the lowest levels. There, the Waif knew there would be less commotion over a slaying. The people here were more-or-less middle class. Such executions didn’t really happen up here. With that being the case, the Waif stepped aside, and into a tiny trinket shop. She would wait there until Tailua walked by, and then she would trail him again.
  15. IC: Makua — Ga-Koro, Southern docks The calm bobbing of the boats and skiffs did as much to calm the sellsword’s nerves as his extra-strong drink from the Great Takea. He always appreciated a Skakdi who could make a mean beverage that stuck with you. The din of drunk sailors and bewildered refugees began to fade behind him as he entered the southern docks. He looked around for the sign of someone waiting around — or at the very least, a literal sign. Matoran traders and tourists alike were bustling around him, and the small of fresh fish and other wares began to give Makua hunger pains. I wonder well-stocked the kitchen is on the Fowadi, thought the Toa of Ice as he continued to walk along the docks. As soon as he thought the word Fowadi, a Toa entered Makua’s field of vision. He had guessed this was a lady Toa of possibly stone, but the purple colors and the translucent Rau kept the Toa guessing. At any rate, this Toa’s posture suggested to Makua that perhaps she was the one he should talk to. When Makua got within several feet of the Toa, she had noticed him, and they both had made eye contact. “You’re with the Fowadi crew right?” Makua said to the woman, “I read your sign posts. Sounds great, but I got another offer” Makua was well aware of what the sign posts had said, and he knew that the Fowadi wasn’t exactly known for being a taxi service. But spending his trip cleaning the deck or polishing cannons wasn’t really Makua’s idea of a vacation. Though such activities weren’t dull and could even be fun with the right crewmates. Still, it was better to start with what he wanted — see if this Toa had any give to her. Makua stood tall, his charm switching on like those switch-powered Onu-Koro mining machines. He then made his proposal, “How much for passage to Ostia, if you’re headed there? I got the coin to compensate for your troubles — if that’ll suit you” OOC: @sunflower
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