Crimson Jester

Another win for team PlayStation!

I'm gonna go harass The Cap'n about coming back.

Welcome back! Good to see some old faces around.

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru The Cartographer did his best to grip the sled tightly as it careened down the winding protodermic chute into the unknown. From the moment of the initial plunge, the sled had bounced around the chute like a stone across a pond, occasionally making contact with the protodermis stream, or the ringed supports. Were the Cartographer's hands not already white, his knuckles would have been. A sudden burning sensation on the Abomination-mark on his wrist quickly pulled his focus from gripping the sled, to the junction that now approached at blinding speed. He couldn't turn his focus away from the path ahead, but he could hear his companions rattling down the chute just behind him. The color markings at the tubes could only be made out well enough in the motion blur for the Cartographer to quickly yank his sled hard left, sending him onward into the abyss that lay beyond the white-marked chute, and hopefully the Alpinist. OOC: Permission from @Onaku and @Azibo, via group chat, to bunny the three of us through the junction. @Unreliable Narrator, ready for the next phase of this puzzle. @EmperorWhenua Rescue Rangers on the move.

I mean, he didn't say anything about all the characters, or even whether the next would take place in the same setting. Maybe the next will be in Artahka, after we've all ended each other haha.

If? IF?! Excuse me.

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru The Cartographer chuckled, reaching into his pack once more to withdraw the packet of jerky. "Here, take as much as you like. I've got plenty more; you're going to need the energy." He turned to Sans, and listened as he made his case about repairing the Chute Station. He hadn't seen much beyond this floor of the station, so he hadn't much in the way of input on the matter. But by the look of the two-storey gap between the black chute entrance and the chute itself, he couldn't help but agree with the Turaga's sentiment of repair. The comment about what may have happened to their predecessors made him worry for his oldest compatriot: the Alpinist. The Cartographer nodded in agreement, and grabbed two sleds, handing one to their new friend, and grabbing the other for himself. He approached the chute that the Alpinist had entered moments before. "I'll take the lead, Sans. If we encounter something on our way down, take our new friend here and backtrack like Karz. Fair?" Not awaiting a reply, the Ko-Matoran set his sled down, boarded, and pushed off into the unknown... OOC: @EmperorWhenua Rescue team on the way! @Unreliable Narrator we'll be ready for a post once we've reached the junction, EW, and decided our path from there. @Onaku @Azibo

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru "Trust me, I don't want to go down there," The Cartographer replied without an inkling of hesitation. "But we're running out of options here. I have some rope; we can rappel down to the chute from here. Otherwise, we can try the white chute. Either way, we have to get what we came for before someone else gets their hands on it." He paused again, looking around. The Alpinist still hadn't returned. "Hey, Sans. You didn't happen to see the Alpinist on your trip, did you?" OOC: @Onaku @Azibo

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru The destitute Matoran before him still oozed unease. The Cartographer was puzzled. He'd never met a being so... distant. It was just as much a challenge as the hunt for the Great Disks themselves. He stroked his chin in thought, before mustering a reply. "A name is insignificant. A name can be raised up high on a pedestal, or thrown to the dirt. A person's convictions, and their actions, will etch itself into memories far more permanently than a name ever could," he paused briefly, thinking over his statement, allowing the guest to take it in, as well as himself. Is that why he was here? He had never received a name for himself, either; and yet, he found that over the course of time, his actions had resulted in him being known as The Cartographer. He prided himself on that; never once did he let name day hold him back. His title served him well, and he was of utmost confidence that when the time came, he would have a name of his own. "Let me explain to you what has brought me down here, to cross your quiet path, stranger. This island is sick. Sick with corruption, sick with greed. Even those names propped up as our saviors, our heroes cannot fully be trusted. Only through the strength of Unity; through hoisting our fallen brothers and sisters to walk proud alongside the rest of their Matoran kin, can we heal this island. I have taken an oath to no longer let our past repeat itself, to no longer have Matoran with hungry mouths and empty hands; left to their devices and forgotten. Only together, my friend, can we change our Fate." Almost on cue, Sans dropped down in a corner of the Chute Station in a comically ragdoll manner; none less had the Cartographer come to expect from the aged Turaga. He smiled delicately, for as much as he couldn't identify with the man's humor in these dark times, he appreciated the lightening of moods which the Turaga seemed to be an expert at. His return was welcome, although disheartening, as he knew by his return that his chute had not produced results. Nonetheless, the Matoran was eager to share the new clues that had appeared with the Turaga. "Sans!" The Cartogrpaher called out, mas much excitement in his voice as you'd expect from a Ko-Matoran. "Your impatience betrays you: look--" He pointed at the now-fallen boards, and the newly exposed chute entrance. "There are four chutes. And these notes, read. Someone had tried some of these routes already. It seems this new one might be our answer. But, it's going to be a bit of work." He rose to his feet now, and moved to the overgrown, weathered chute entrance hole, and looked down into the abyss below. "Chute starts a couple stories down, we're going to have to rappel down." The Turaga moved to the black chute, and peered down for himself. Not waiting for his wise-posterior response, the Cartographer turned back to the Matoran huddling on the floor. "What say you, friend? Will you join us, and take your Fate back into your own hands?" OOC: @Azibo @Onaku Trying a different font color for my dialog to make this easier to read. Let me know if it's useful or not.

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru The Cartographer, still knelt with the food in his outstretched hand, observed the creature before him, studying it's movement and mannerisms, looking for any sort of trace of who -- or what -- the creature before him was. His initial guess was a Matoran, but never before in his breadth of travels had the Cartographer from Ko-Metru ever encountered a being with these mannerisms, and certainly not a Matoran. I mean, there's a lot of places in this universe I haven't been, he thought to himself. But no matter how hard he turned the bio-gears in his brain, he could not come up with a reason for a Matoran to ever be this sad, this destitute. This broken. It perplexed and disturbed him, and he wanted nothing more but to try to ease the burden on this Matoran's psyche. It had yet to speak directly to him, but it's posture and mannerisms said everything. It was timid, shy, and fearful. This poor being had not known compassion and empathy in a long time; if ever. It gingerly approached the food -- the being was hungry, but cautious. It had presumably not been extended a welcome hand in a long time, and perhaps expected tampering with the foodstuffs. No matter; the creature snatched the jerky from the Cartographer's hand. He smiled, and as a gesture of goodwill, took out a second piece and began to chew. The Cartographer moved now from his knees to a sitting position, just outside of the Matoran's metaphorical sphere of safety. "I am the Cartographer," he said, swallowing the chewed up jerky in his mouth. His voice carried with a timbre and joviality that was not often hear from the mouth of a Ko-Matoran. "Not often you find anyone hiding out this far down in Le-Metru, alone like this. You need to feel the warmth of the virtue of Unity, lost one. Now come, tell me who you are, so I know what to refer to my new friend as!" OOC: @Onaku

IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru Mere moments had passed since the three disk hunters had entered the mysterious, haphazardly repaired Chute Station, although it had felt like an eternity. The Cartographer's mind and eyes raced feverishly between the myriad potential clues laid out in the cluttered room. 3, 2, 1. Hm. Unity, duty.. accuracy? Strange. The colors on the floor seemed fairly straight forward, but the rest... The Cartographer's mind was nearly shooting steam out his ears by this point. His knowledge of historic sites and Ko-Metru in general had served him well on the last puzzle, but impulsiveness had not -- never before had he seen such a twisted creature as the Abomination of Ko-Metru, and never again did he want to see one, as the one he saw was never leaving his brain anyway. The pensive silence shared by the group was swiftly broken, not to the pair of Ko-Matoran's surprise, when the ever-outspoken Turaga piped up. Despite a whispered groan of annoyance at the Turaga for breaking his concentration and the silence Ko-Matoran preferred, the Cartographer had a great respect for this Turaga, as he did all of them. Although he played a bit of a bumbling fool type, there was a hidden wisdom buried within his words, honed by years of experience, and only to be interpreted by the sharpest of minds. The Cartographer pulled himself from the depths of his conscious thought to hear what the Turaga had to say. "These chutes, they're not numbered normally. One would expect them to go 1-2-3, but instead they go 3-2-1. Interesting.... I think. And these colors on the ground," Sans stopped and gestured over the circles. "Mayhaps one needs a few ordinary disks to acquire the Great Disk? Following that logic, we need a Ko-disc, a Ta-disc, and a Le-disc.. assuming no pranksters painted over these symbols, huhuhuhu." The Cartographer grimaced, although it was not noticed by the others. He had hoped to avoid this situation altogether, as his pack currently held not only the weaken, enlarge, and reconstitute disks from their last puzzle, but the Great Disk of Ko-Metru himself. Although he had trust in the Turaga, he felt it was safer for everyone in the party that only he and the Alpinist knew that they possessed the Great Disk. Alas, they would not progress beyond here should he not reach into his bag and give the Turaga a disk. Awaiting an opportunity where the Turaga seemed enveloped in his voice, the Cartographer quickly opened his bag, reached in, and withdrew two disks, hoping the Great Disk wasn't seen. Replacing his pack, he picked up the two disks, and gestured them toward the Turaga, deep in discussion about his glory days of Chute surfing. As he did so, the Turaga reached for a board, and to their surprise, a strange, Matoran-like creature appeared; although it's robes and armor disguised any true shape beneath. Clutching his disks tighter now, the Cartographer took a step back, tensing as he did. He didn't want a fight if he could avoid it, but he was ready to defend the Great Disk -- and his new friends, at any cost. But then, something peculiar happened. As the Matoran rose, the Cartographer could begin to see the weak posture, hear the soft, broken voice, and feel... pain? This poor soul was not a threat, but the furthest removed from it. Alone, destitute, in the forgotten depths of Le-Metru, where even Vahki not dare venture. Something was off. He released the tension in his muscles and servos, leaned down, and gently placed the disks on the ground. He had encounters of this kind before, in the darkest depths of far away dungeons, so deep even the light no longer touched them. Matoran and other beings alike, wayward, lost, or abandoned, all without hope, all without purpose. And although the Cartographer was just that, an explorer, map-maker and chronicler, he was also a Matoran of Metru Nui. And Matoran always help their fellows. Still kneeling, the Cartographer's eyes briefly turned to the Unity charm carved at the middle Chute. He knew what he must do. The Cartographer once more removed his pack from his back, and began a deep rummage of his side pockets. Moments later, he withdrew the prize he sought: a fresh pack of Muaka jerky. It was his hardiest and trustiest source of nutrients on long travels, as well as the tastiest. He tore the packet, and reached in, withdrawing a large, succulent piece of the dried Rahi flesh, rubbed in the finest of Metru Nui spices, and reached out, offering it gently to the Matoran. OOC: @Onaku

Fa'amatai's headless corpse does!

IC: The Cartographer -- Le-Metru Airship Terminal The pair of Ko-Matoran had just left the airship, and were headed to the terminal, when the strange, overtly jovial Turaga approached them, and spewed forth more words than the Ko-Matoran had ever spoken in a week. As he rambled, the two looked at each other quizzically, not used to such friendliness and unsure of how to reply. The Cartographer tightened his pack-straps once again, unsure of the Turaga's intent. Until he mentioned the disk. "A Great Disk? Like the ones Turaga Dume spoke of?" The Cartographer layered his voice thick with innocence, hoping to hide the fact that the two already had a Great Disk, at least until they knew the mysterious Turaga's intentions. He let the Turaga continue to brew on his statement, and continued. "I'm the Cartographer; this is the Alpinist. We're here to survey historical sites in Le-Metru, to ensure that our history is not lost, even in these times of great turmoil." He paused, long enough for the Turaga to digest the white lie, before continuing. "It seems to me that our paths aren't so very different. Do you have somewhere private we can speak?" OOC: @Azibo @EmperorWhenua take the wheel, gents.

That's more characters to start heading for the Po-, Ta-, and Ga- puzzles! Better get a head start or we'll take those ones too!

@Tarn it's okay, you guys won't have to concern yourselves with disks too much longer, EW and I will have it soon!

IC: The Cartographer -- Le-Metru The Cartographer had sat silently in his chair the majority of the airship ride to Le-Metru, moving occasionally to check his bag, fidget with his hands, and generally appear uncomfortable; a far cry from his fearless companion across the deck. When they met eyes, the Cartographer smiled nervously, attempting to hide the fact that a great weight now rested on his shoulders. He knew that the first puzzle was a challenge, but would be nothing compared to any of the others they encounter in their future. In Ko-Metru, they had several advantages: the two knew the terrain, access, and territory better than anyone, they happened to be lucky enough to have the discs necessary, and they had found and solved this puzzle in a very brief time after the hunt was announced. Now, the odds were stacked against these two unlikely heroes from Ko-Metru. Everyone would be converging on the other five puzzles -- if there were any even left unsolved. The Cartographer hadn't the slightest of clues as to what sorts of nefarious creatures had a stake in this twisted game, but he knew that as a pair of Matoran, they didn't pose much of a threat, combat-wise. Sure, they had one of the six most powerful disks known to them, but the Cartographer feared using it. Who knew what would happen should the disk fire, and better yet, what would happen if someone else got their hands on it. All their work, gone, like that. As the shuttle found it's place on the landing pad and began to shudder down into place, the Cartographer threw his bag back over his shoulders, and pulled the straps so tight that it felt a part of him. Pushing his fears to one of the darker corners of his mind, he rose from his seat, and looked over at the Alpinist. In their short time knowing each other, the Cartographer had grown to greatly respect the fellow matoran, for his strength, vigor, and lack of fear; qualities the Cartographer himself wished to one day emulate. If there was any way they were going to get this disk, it would be because of his new friend. "Are you ready?" The Cartographer asked, rhetorically, knowing full well that their was no amount of readiness for such an insurmountable task. "We have no idea who, or what, is out and about here. We're gonna have to be a lot more cautious than last time. Any strategies?" OOC: @EmperorWhenua

Look at the last post date in all the IC topics -- nope. A little wrap up is taking place, but things are most on hold until the new story arc releases.

Nuju's Hospital for the Infirm Mind as a playable location

@Azibo that was a fun read! Cool to look at the topic and see two huge posts like that next to one another; it really shows how epic this story is getting! Thanks for all the entertainment so far, folks.

IC: Fa'amatai - Silver Sea Beach Assault A lone warrior, far removed from his distant home, comfortable life, and relative safety ducked his head behind the wall of a shallow crater once again, granting him a temporary relief from the chaotic sounds of war above his head; like a thousand whistles, trumpets and drums, the battle sang its most vile song mere inches above his head. Each thunderous boom seemed to stir up even more sand that the last, creating a very real, incredibly tangible fog of war that covered the entire battlefield as though it were the cloak of Death himself. The Ba-Toa subconsciously loaded a fresh lightstone into his rifle while his mind worked to clear and purge itself of the battle's eternal dirge, if only to be clear long enough to survive to the next foxhole. His expression, demeanor, and even posture had greatly shifted over the course of this last hour on the beach. His grimace of horror had twisted into an expression devoid of anything but determination, and he no longer startled at every sound around him. The Hand of the Spirit of War had found this Ba-Toa in the safety of his crater, and gripped him tightly; never had he felt so exhaustes, so burned out - and yet - so invigored, so focused on one sole task. Fa'amatai felt less a sentient being, and more a highly-refined tool, straight and true in its convictions, and razor-deadly in it's design. A hulking armored tank, more Rahi-like than machination, burst from the treeline on the edge of Fa'amatai's vision. It lurched and rumbled, massive clawed legs digging into the beach chewing it up like gristle. It was too far to be an immediate issue to the Ba-Toa, but it was enough to shake him out of his war trance, and back into the fight. He reached down to recover his freshly loaded rifle, feeling it's carved surface find its place in his hand. He raised it, and began to stand again. In the blink of an eye, a black-and-metallic clawed foot gripped his rifle and bent it as though it were a twig; the rifle twisted and snapped in the Toa's hand, immediately rendered useless. He kicked backward, with barely enough time to roll and avoid the death grip of the razor-handed Vortixx that stood over him. Recovering, he reached to the twin gravity swords on his back and sprung to his feet, activating his elemental powers to slightly lower his personal gravity as he did. His left foot dug into the sand behind him as he readied for the Vortixx's next strike. The Vortixx kicked off, firing his Rhotuka launcher, and clearing the gap between them in two steps. Fa'amatai had to dive to his right to avoid the Rhotuka, and as he rolled, his right leg shot out to throw him back into an attack position. As he raised his shoulders, the Vortixx's closed hand caught the Toa squarely under the jaw, sending him careening backwards into a crater. Fa'amatai shook his head and recentered his Kanohi; momentarily stunned by the massive punch. He groaned as he stood, but readied himself for more punishment. The forces of Gravity swirled around the Ba-Toa, his anger and concentration attuning his connection to his element. He scowled at the Vortixx, and leapt into the invisible stream of elemental energy. It threw the Toa upward dramatically, gathering strength as he soared higher above the Vortixx. His head tilted back, and the Toa's body spun in midair, redirecting to point directly at the Vortixx. Amassing gravitational power, He shot downward with his fist extended. The Vortixx raised his bladed arm, but the awesome power of gravity overcame the massive blades, and the punch impacted the Vortixx's left shoulder, the sheer force blasting apart it's shoulder armor and rendering the left arm useless. The Vortixx howled and stepped back, clutching the now-shattered shoulder. In a brilliant storm of light, a beam of energy from one of the Metru airships collided with the Vortixx's chest, blowing a hole clean through it. Armor, bone and offal spread like mist through the air. A short distance from where the Vortixx' corpse now lay, the form of a Toa could be seen crawling through the sand. The Toa was broken and shattered, with his right arm completely severed at the shoulder. His eyes were growing cold and dark as his left hand dug into the sand, each slow drag pulling him closer to the beauty of the Silver Sea and away from the battle that broke him. Fa'amatai couldn't feel the pain from the stump of his arm anymore, nor could he even recall how he had ended up here, in this sick, twisted image of Karzanhi incarnate. All he knew is that he was dying, and that the Silver Sea would be his last image as his spirit faded. Footsteps nearby broke the silence. A Toa of Plasma appeared through the dense sand-fog, his face twisted into the embodiment of corruption, of bloodlust. His hands crackled with plasma energy as he approached, and leaned down next to the one-armed Toa crawling to his death. With ease, he pushed the Toa onto his back; he was completely out of energy and hope, and would no longer put up a fight. He let out a sigh and stared emptily up at the Toa leaning over him. But when the hand touched his head, and his brain inside his mask began to melt into bubbling plasma, he wailed a wail so haunting it could be heard clear across the battlefield. The Toa of Plasma smirked as heat and plasma burst from the eyes and mouth of the mask, scorching the edges. The screaming slowly subsided, and all that was left was a headless corpse, a pile of plasma, and the death mask of an adventurer from Metru Nui. --- Some time later, a lone Toa dashed across the battlefield; small, slender and agile, she wove expertly between shell crashes and one-on-one fights, restoring the wounded and recovering the masks of the dead as she went. She saw a corpse to her left as she dashed toward the treeline, headless, armless and broken. Her heart felt heavy. The ones she didn't get a chjance to try to save were always the worst to see. Nonetheless, she approached, and picked up the mask of the fallen Toa, scarred and burnt from the plasma attack. She reached to her pack and pushed the other Kanohi inside in order to squeeze this one in. As no more would fit, the Toa dashed off again, back to the landers to return the effects of the dead, and go back for more.

@King of Kings We've already had an Abomination, I'd hate to see how two stunted half-Toa would end up.

IC: The Cartographer Ko-Metru Hideaway The two Matoran stood like statues, locked in a trance of sorts staring at the disk beyond the pale, their mouths hanging open in wonderment at the sight before them: a frozen waste, not unlike Ko-Metru, although more organic in appearance. The infinite blanket of protodermic snow seemed to envelop and completely bury every surface, leaving only light shadows and rough shapes to mark the unknown terrain below, and the show itself glimmered as though a million lightbugs had all congregated in awe of the Great Disk that sat undisturbed, and somehow snow-free on the small dais that appeared to be identical to the former plinth in the chamber. Behind it, the flag danced to the unheard rhythm of this strange place, beckoning the two Matoran forward. They both seemed to step in unison through the doorway, as though guided by an unseen force. The two entered the strange dimension, their feet sinking deep and disappearing into the snow, and the intense wind of this netherworld could suddenly be felt a thousandfold, the wild whip of snow acting like sandpaper on their armor. No matter, the Cartographer reassured himself, this was by far the easiest part of this quest that they had encountered so far. Although the two had not discussed how to handle the retrieval once they found the disk, the Alpinist and the Cartographer knew exactly what to do when they reached the dais. Each looked to the other, a look of pride and accomplishment in their eyes, and the two reached out, each Matoran's hand finding hold on the cold, incredibly smooth surface of the disc. The two examined it briefly, although the intense wind and blowing snow hampered much more than a victory glance, and the Alpinist let go. Tucking the disk into his pack, the Cartographer followed the Alpinist back to the door, and leapt back out to the safety of Ko-Metru and the plinth. As he rose to his feet again, the Cartographer brushed the snow from his pack and withdrew again the disk from within it. He held it up, and presented it for the Alpinist to have his own look at the prize. "I can't believe it, honestly," the Cartographer stammered, still in a state of shock about the object between them. "All my life I've spent exploring the deepest, darkest depths of Metru Nui, all to preserve it's history. Even after the quest for the Disks was presented, I never saw this moment coming." He smiled. Cartography was a brutal, lonely and thankless job. It rarely had moments of bonding and companionship, and never under such circumstances as this. "You know, I hadn't really planned for this scenario, actually acquiring the disk. And I couldn't have done it myself," he paused, as though to vet his next sentence before speaking it. "I think as a team, you and I could do far more for Metru Nui than I alone. So what say you, will you join me on whatever adventure comes with being the possessor of a Great Disk?

@Darth Jaller I started alone in Ko-Metru; ended up with a companion and a Great Disk pretty quick. Enjoy the solo adventure while it lasts haha. @Harvali I don't recall anyone specifically stating a 1:1 exchange between disks and Toa stones. At any rate, we'll probably swing round to another Metru and grab a second disk, to be safe.

I miss those days. What the karz ever happened to Moutekea?!

Hey guys! I just got a custom shelf in for my LEGO building station, and it made me curious to see what kind of set ups some of you have for your displays and building! Feel free to show off and discuss here!