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Nick Silverpen

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  1. Nick Silverpen here with your ECC Review: Now, I’m not a diehard fan of Avatar the Last Airbender, and I haven’t gotten into Legend of Korra yet; I mean I watched the originals, and so this seems like an interesting modern day take on it. From that, let’s start with the plot: an interestingly enough beginning, and the opener is definitely a hook for the reader. I like the modern take, and you still keep that Avatar comic relief in there (“My cabbages!”). The storytelling position, I kind of like it for the fact that it is almost a sideline storyteller- Whereas not a third person narrator, who sees all, and the hero(ine) doesn’t have the pressure of telling the story, it shows some thoughts you wouldn’t see coming from most sides of the story. I’ll cover this more when I get to Jacob’s character. Through setting it up like this, you don’t get a standard story. What I did notice is that your story was pretty deep. For having a twelve and a fifteen year old as the main protagonists of your story, there was so much philosophy around this. It worked well when they were finding their chakra, but wow. At twelve, some of this stuff would be beyond my comprehension. I think that clashed with the realism behind your story; while the story overall wanted to put a modern interpretation on the Avatar tale, it was a bit of a take from reality. As time went on, the philosophy of bending became easier to see a preteen and an early teenager plunging themselves into, as Jacob’s thoughtful asides were occasionally applicable. With the realistic factor coming into play, I saw that it wavered in and out, and ultimately the story ended on that note, as a whole experience Jacob could learn from. In the darkness of the training room it seemed to fit, the combination of mystic and realism, and I could see your characters growing with each scene in there. Onto Characters: Jenny does seem mature beyond her years, and while Aang was portrayed as the same age, she seems to be his opposite. Whereas he was all about goofing and fun, she wants to act mature, and be strict toward her duty. She was a good enforcer for Jacob. With Jacob in mind- I wasn’t fond of his style of narrating, the constant sarcasm and cynical attitude that he brought to the table. His lack of faith, in thinking that it was all a dream, was a bit of a damper on his character, but he came along in later chapters, particularly as he participated in Wuqing’s meditations. His approach on fear, in his lectures to his friend, seemed pretty rational and were appealing. Being fifteen was one of the best years of my life, and I could identify what he said with I had thought at that age. His development as they accessed their chakra was a scene I felt strongly for. Kudos, to writing a deep story with such innocence in these characters. Wuqing, I am confused on- he is from the Spirit world, but he can collect scrolls and physically move objects? Maybe this is something that is Avatar canon, but it is just a tad confusing. He seemed like a mature teacher, and very Irohish, if that makes sense coming from my limited viewings of the old show... As far as Tobi goes, she also carries out maturity for her age- star student turned to assistant for another. She is pretty patient and understanding too, making up for Jacob’s occasional lack of faith. But Korra... she kind of seemed bland, a mere Spirit version of Tobi. She didn’t seem to show any unique advice on her part, and seemed a little too kiddish for the threat that was at hand. And Koh... I felt he was a pretty sophisticated villain here. He was cunning, very intimidating at times, and I myself was scared at times. He was smooth, and very interesting, to see the characters interact with: I found it particularly odd that he was watching Wuqing’s training. It’s good psychology around this villain. My only disappointment was that he did not get more screentime, though he was excellent during the climax. As with Wuqing, you wrote some excellent psychology around this character. And now for Nick’s Nitpicks, the part of the review where Nick finds some oddities in the writing: There was not much wrong with this epic in terms of grammar, but I did find some storyline inconsistencies. In chapter seven, this did not seem to make sense: Wuqing had learned to ignore me by this time. "Water is the element of willpower." Most people do. "Like the ocean, it pushes and pulls." When they get used to me. "You must work with it while maintaining control over it." And realize that half of what I say isn't worth listening to, anyway. "Hit the target." I understand that outside of the dialogue is Jacob’s sarcasm, but it doesn’t seem to correlate with what Wuqing is saying at all. Actually, it feels like Jacob’s asides here are out of order. You the author might understand this, but to the reader it is slightly confusing. In Chapter 12, can a past Avatar come back as a ghost? I thought it was all mental, something that only the current Avatar could see. One thing that I felt during much of the training was that thoughts were omitted in your writing. There seemed to be jumps from sentence, and it seemed a bit disconnected. Might want to go over that and review those passages again. But that’s basically all I could find; other than the occasional jump, the story was pretty clean and entertaining. A big thing I noticed all throughout your epic- it was a far different style from your flash fiction and other shorts I have read from you. While it was a surprise, it was pretty good to see. You still were able to tell a great tale in the manner of a child, and it played out pretty well. Again, I am reminded why I’m a fan of Nuile: Whatever he may call himself this week. Good writing! ~NS
  2. The air felt heavier in my lungs at night, like I was breathing in a bog. Even though it had been only two months since life had become like this, I still felt myself doubling over, unadjusted to the change in the environment. It had only been such a short time, two months, but forever it had felt like it had been this way. With conveniences so long accustomed to rendered useless, life had become a burden. Nights would find me open eyed in the kitchen, not needing the rest I almost ached for in the day. A shadow by sunlight and a ghost by the stars I was, gazing emptily out the window over the dish filled sink. The moon hung full over the calm ocean, its pale light rippling the sand from here to there with shadow. As the waves broke on the flooded sands, I felt the water underneath my feet, seeping up through the tile. The tides were the highest they had been since the hurricane, the groundwater rising into the house. I could feel it just under my feet, a miserable reminder of what this place had been through. I just wanted it to pull away, all in one receding wave; I could not rebuild with a wet foundation, and wanted nothing more than to be dry.When one stares long enough, their tired eyes play tricks on them. I had been tired for a long time, and my eyes were beginning to see shapes in the sand. In the black ocean against the dark sky, something was out there on the horizon. Leaning over the dishes to get a glimpse, I was certain that there was someone out there. Walking along the shoreline, there was a silhouetted figure, bending over with every occasional step. Letting myself down, my interest had awaken me from the daze I had been, as I stared out there, wondering who could it be.***My run along the beach led to a Toa of Earth, picking masks from the sand. He had come from the ocean, his skiff nearly invisible on a sandbar in the mild surf. Picking up the masks like seashells, insouciantly adding them to a pile, while I looked on, revolted. Hundreds of masks had laid right in front of my house, the sea spewing back what it had taken from the island, and I had been completely oblivious to it. “What are you doing?” I asked the Toa. “Leave them alone!”“I’m collecting them,” he replied simply; either he did not know these were the masks of my brothers and sisters, or was apathetic to my cries.“The sea takes the extraordinary and leaves the rest to be,” I quoted. “Let them rest in peace!” I grew angry when he kept collecting, ignorant of my demand. “These masks came to me,” he informed, “So what should I not take what is given? As tragic as it may have been for what happened to these Matoran, the island does not need these masks anymore. You would collect them yourself eventually, but what would you do with them? Maybe someone somewhere else needs them.” I cocked my head towards the moon, thinking on that. Letting them back to sea would be honoring their memory, but there was no arguing this with him. He was going to win this argument, no matter what I did or said. “Your island needs healing,” the Toa said, pushing a toe through the sand. I cast my eyes back to the shack I had come from, seeing ruins where a fine house had once been. The dunes were swept away to reveal a porch in shambles, the wood warped by the tides that had rushed forward in the floods. I winced at the sight of it, hurt by my own apathy. I had done nothing but let whatever dignity I had left deteriorate, and now my apathy was breaking me to pieces. “Maybe you need it too,” he added, placing a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. Looking me in the eyes, he could see the echoes of the pain as I remembered the storm. “Leave here,” he advised. “Go where your mind will be at peace. Let me take care of the land, so one day it will be fit to live on again” “How do you know what is right for here?” I demanded. “Stabbing a wound will not make it heal,” he countered. “Staying here will only make it worse for you. Leave. I will bring to this island what you won’t expect, and that’ll make it all the more interesting if you ever return.”“Where would I go?”“There is a meadow, far inland,” he explained, pointing beyond my house. “The woods will lead you there. The path may wind and fork, but trust me, it all goes to the same place.” “And you swear to…?”“I will help this island as best to my ability,” he nodded, a grim smile on his face. “Now go. Take what you have left and go. There’s people in the meadow, and trust me, it’ll do better to have company there than to spend the winter here alone.” I nodded, bidding him farewell. As I regarded the dark sky beyond my home, I felt the breeze tickling my neck, the quiet calling of winter. The woods beyond the island were dark, and I would spend many days in there before I waded through the grasses. I didn’t want to leave, to sever the connection between myself and the island. You can only appreciate this place once you leave, I thought grimly, as I followed the darkness to where I solid ground lay. ****A work that took a few weeks, based off of a dream and the "Pathfinding" Theme of the Fortnightly Flash Contest. I'm a bit out of practice, so feel free to tear apart.
  3. Is the monthly writing prompt a Bionicle prompt or is it open?
  4. Half Life: Gyah's Awakening has been reviewed.
  5. Sorry for a few hours late, but Bioni-Lords 3: Kako, is reviewed.
  6. Hey there Dinobot Pahrak, Nick Silverpen with your ECC Review, as requested. First off, I enjoy the setup for the flashback, as your characters have a good frame for the story, emphasizing its importance. Though the prologue is not the smoothest, the beginning of your first chapter makes up for it, entering the flashback with a mysterious hook to draw the reader in. Human-Bionicle crossovers intrigue me, especially the familial relationships between the characters. You do manage to fit it well into your plot, however, and you write briefly about Genakex's motivations as a character coming from that, which adds to the story. The writing at the beginning seems very "young", I feel, and comic bookish throughout the entire story. This is not bad at all, since it shows your skill as a writer developing the more you write. It is a ton of dialogue here, and it fits the genre, an adventure, comic book feel to the story. However, I do feel as though some of your dialogue between characters is occasionally sometimes unnecessary. Yes, they are kids, but not all small talk needs to be put in to show that they are children- instead focus on the language they're using. Also, in the beginning, your dialogue tends to override much of the actual script, and there is rarely description or traits shown by the characters. This gradually improves the more I've read, so good job on working on that. The battles I am a little confused about, but this is probably since I am jumping right into Book 3 of this series. It seems very Pokemon/Yu-Gi-Oh style, with characters shouting out there every move. It contributes to the fun atmosphere surrounding Genakex and the group's adventure, but does tend to be a little too quick and random to what I've been following. Though your writing is entertaining, you do add "unnecessary fluff" in the story, as when Titan appears in Chapter 5:"Two thighs resembling torsos of Toa were all it had for legs, and two large curved spikes ran alongside each thigh in a way that resembled swords of a kind"-of some kind could be omitted, it being already noted that that thigh armor has some shape of a sword. -Giving way to a massive hand with four oversized fingers: The size and bulk seem overly repetitive here; some of your descriptions are good, but they don't have to keep looping around to each trait again. While it does seem like a lighthearted book, it's good to see the motifs come in with family and tradition- it adds a layer of depth to the characters, and explores them a bit, such as their motives for leaving home to go on this adventure, especially with Genakex and his brother. The conflict Tahra has with her family and tradition starts to give the story a step up from the comic book stage, and sets a good focus for quite a few chapters. Jumping ahead to Chapter 18, it does not seem clear what you mean by your opener with the Spirit and the Lost Continent- a place devoid of Bioni-Lords/ Spirits, because of their status, and then this random appearance of a Spirit? It doesn't seem to connect with how the spirit's presence starts off the chapter. The tone also jumps from sinister to comical in a way that doesn't quite fit the passage- just an observation.Your epic, with all of the little side plots that tie into the story, fit it into the genre of epic- the Kal each from an alternate timeline meeting, and all of the Element Lords and their tradition- its interesting to keep reading. While not a deep, philosophical book like I've usually read and wrote, it was good to see a quick paced action book. Your assortment of characters is incredibly high, yet they all seem to have a role in the bigger picture. They're rich with character too- for some reason I particularly liked the Gambler. Genakex reminded me of Takua, in a sense, and that made the epic enjoyable. What I have to say, for improving your writing:Write the chapter, and then read it aloud to yourself. See what makes sense, and what is "junk". Seeing if you can spot stuff right after youve written it is hard, so give some time off. A day or so. Remember to place commas where appropriate- there were quite a few run on sentences in your posts, so read them to yourself and see where you missed. Description! While it is improving, your characters seem to be jumping just slightly. Description, tell about their thought processes a little more. While dialogue is essential to keeping the character relationships going, it is not everything for a story. You are mixing the two a bit, and it seems to be working just fine. Keep progressing at you should have it. Your vocabulary is fine, just don't try to force some words. It confuses the reader, and makes the passage rough. It's a simple story, but it flows. Also, on that note, try varying sentence structure. It grabs the reader a bit, to have a long sentence interwoven with short ones, and vice versa. It's good to have variation, and although you have very long sentences, you keep the reader interested. Think to yourself "How can I start this paragraph differently?" And go off of that. I will hope to be reading Genakex's adventures in full soon, as to understand the full story with the Spirits and previous stories. 30 chapters, and you're still going! Good job, and just work on the things above- your writing improves with the more you write, so keep the ball rolling! NS
  7. I always thought that Matoro on the staircase was just him being cloaked by an invisibility device the Great beings installed, or some illusion just to show that a person going there would die, but not really needed to. There might be something in the old forums about it. As far as Takanuva goes, if a Makuta can stir his essence in a Zamor or a robot (Exo-toa etc) why can't a Toa do otherwise?
  8. Reviewed The Rise! It was kind of fun but different, doing it as a EC now. And thanks everyone, it's a pleasure to be working with you for the ECC!
  9. Hey Taipu1, Nick Silverpen from the ECC with a Charity Review:First off, your beginning was attractive, a good mysterious and descriptive passage to start off the scene. The parallelism between the height of the knowledge towers and the ground was good- this is also the first time I can recall where the shadows in a story were simply shadows. While this part was simply written but well done, I think you repeated some words a bit, that could be replaced for just more varied nouns, etc. It may just be personal taste, but "high" sounds better than "Up"Going into the story, your dialogue seems very real. Businesslike, but casual at the same time. The casual relationship between Taraka and Arken seems very loose, yet it seems like they're just on formal terms, despite all of the joking the pair does. Good parallelism of concepts, and keep working on it. You explore Akfen's emotions decently in the little passage toward the end. Some description could be used in-between your dialogue and this passage, to break it up, but it's fine the way it is. "Lion of Ko-Metru" was a good hook, and it adds to the mystery your intro paragraph brings. The Toa Tool- it seems like it has been very vaguely described, do you plan on having more significance to it in later chapters?When you're writing your dialogue, or any passage you're reading, narrate it aloud so you know exactly what you were putting down. A number of places have some awkward spots: Should be "Storage room?" "I wasn't going to turn it down."Those were relatively few mistakes I saw in there, but just check, here and there. Also, try to refer to other words than "said", such as "replied, spoke, shot jokingly," etc. said just doesn't fit some of the passages here. The way your story is developing seems simple and still entertaining. It already looks like it's going to build into something great. Not sure if you intentionally emphasized some things, for foreshadowing purposes, but it made this chapter a good read. I do want to find out what happened to Nuju, as to how you will tie him as a character into this story. Good job, and keep writing!
  10. Chapter 4: Through the Storm The first thing I felt was the heat. We’d reached the top of another dune, feeling the hot breeze that accompanied it. Breaths came slowly, the thick air scorching our lungs, exhales merely slumping our bodies further. Not even the intensity of my kiln had been this hot; in the height of the summer, the punch of the crispy air that flowed out the entrance to the fires would have been a cool breeze in comparison to this. A sticky tunic of sweat spilled under my armor, a taunt of the temperature’s oppressiveness that sat on my shoulders. It was like a tormentor pushing down, insisting that sitting under a dune- just for a moment- would lighten the load. Winds that had for days pushed us back to the coast had died out, and we no longer struggled to stay rooted to our course; Nireta and I walked effortlessly through the air, but stumbled over the continual ripple of dunes. Now that we had made it through the storm, however, progress was being made; Nireta detailed it as she raised her sextant to the sky, making notations on the scroll she kept close at hand. The sandy whip that the desert bore in attempt to drive us away had left its scars, pockets and scratches in our Kanohi; blinking out the already thousands of grains from my sweaty face, I could not fathom how much sand lay around us. Beneath it all lay the rhode. It was somewhere out there, swept over by strong gusts that had shifted the sands; at every valley between the dunes, I glimpsed around, in hopes of rediscovering it. Nireta, nevertheless, was confident of our direction, and so we plowed instinctively through the rolling golden brown scene. In the blue overhead, the sun glowed as it noted our progress, practically racing us to the horizon. The glare from its mane streamed down, sharp shafts piercing our visors. Every time we reached another hilltop, we had to shield our eyes from the stabbing rays, the sun seeming to stop at nothing to outpace us. We had let the sun win, I joked to Nireta as we camped for the evening. Together we watched the sunset, now an orange orb crossing the purple and green finish line. Taking second in the race, the heat followed the sun’s departure, but neither was truly gone in the night desert. The flames of our campfire that were appreciated in the cool of twilight reminded us that it all simply came from another source. I was no longer the master of my element, I sighed as I watched the stars move across the sky. No longer could I tolerate the desert like I had used to. I had become a shore Matoran, comforted by the ocean breezes over the island. We needed to be able to adapt quickly in this desert, because it was essential that we pass through quickly, and so far we struggled to adjust. The race we Matoran were in was more serious than a dash against a sun- between us and the storm, the winner held the fate of Utywa in their hands. “…ah, there’s the rain. The Cavalry has finally arrived.” The ink of that page had long dried out, dating our departure from home. I passed the night leafing through old journal entries, wondering how much further Tiribomba or Kopaka could have gone with a Mask of Speed. Across the fire, the mapmaker sat between two scrolls, copying the map taken from the bar. Notations were made on the duplicate as she tried to find how much of the rhode had been buried in the desert. And this was how our journey continued, following the break of the storm; listening to the migrating herds of Mahi and Kikinalo, wondering if we were still headed in the right direction. The scene changed sometimes, to long flat stretches of hardened sand, where meager brush cracked the surface. As we traveled, we looked for the outpost, but the desert never indicated that there had ever been anything out here but ourselves. Until we saw the statue. It was almost alien, out of place in the blasted landscape. Perhaps it had been dropped from the sky, from another world, but the figure of the Toa atop the pedestal made that theory sound foolish. The statue was something that belonged in a city, and not here, of all places. Rising askew from the dune that half buried it, its bold posture looked as though it were examining the layout of the land before it. We were drawn to the statue like pilgrims to a holy site, fascinated by a sign of civilization so far out in isolation. The stone it was carved from was old, chiseled many millennia ago. It was a relic of the Kingdom, lost to the ages only to be rediscovered out here. Exposed to the elements, years of the wind had weathered the statue incredibly smooth. Its armor was unlike the Toa of Utywa, yet there was something about it akin to its living brothers. The blank eyes of its mask could have been watching the desert, yet at the same time could’ve been observing the two travelers who marveled at it. My eyepiece scanned the pedestal for any text, but even finding none we could both guess who it was. “Matoro,” Nireta whispered the name of the Toa Mahri of Ice. A bow was given, in honor of our friend- His name had replaced “Spiriah” as a word for failure, but those who slung the insults had never known him as a Ko-Matoran. He had his done duty well, assisting Turaga Nuju for a millennia, never expecting reward for his services; in the wars against Makuta, he was at times braver than any villager on the island. As a Toa, perhaps he just wasn’t ready to meet his destiny- I gave him credit for what he had accomplished, knowing those who insulted him wouldn’t have gotten half as far as he did. Sometimes I thought Matoro’s failure was even a good thing- under Mata Nui’s reign we lived in a template that the Great Beings had set for us. Now, we were proud of the world we had built for ourselves; I still felt respect for him as I now bowed, staring into his long dead eyes. Following our tribute, my hands dug around the pedestal that Matoro stood on. The base couldn’t have just been dropped here; the rhode had to run below it, the statue possibly serving as a mile marker. On our knees Nireta and I cleaned the base, but could find nothing that indicated this was anything other than a random post. Perhaps its builder had left it out here to keep the Toa’s memory preserved, clean from graffiti saying “the Disgraced One” sat here. Letting the sand sink back into the cracks from which it was pulled, we continued. The statue was barely behind us when the dunes dropped to harder soil, scarce vegetation peeking from the ground. Hills had shielded the plain from us, but wispy roots could not hide the tower, slender and aloof on the horizon. Seemingly in disuse, it looked like another relic of the countryside. Dead ivy climbed the outside walls, dragging the building back to the ground from which it rose- the place appeared to no longer have a purpose, so why did it need to exist? Dark, wide windows suggested its abandonment, save for one- an old Kanohi peered at us from the second story, stoic as we made our approach. Once we were close enough, he nodded, leaving the window with a cane as he made his way downstairs to greet us. *** Kopaka splashed through the rain filled streets as he ran through the now muddy paths of Utywa. Floods roared down the avenues, walls of whitewater barreling into the houses. Though light on his feet, he could not free himself from the water that rose above his knees- it was impossible to wade, let alone run, and the Toa Nuva was a madman for even trying. The Cavalry was charging full force on the island, nearly sweeping Kopaka away with the oncoming floods. While lightning flashed dangerously close, sending shocks up his spine, thunder crashed overhead with enough ferocity to bash his body. The satchel across his shoulders was soaked, the candles inside rendered useless; the Toa of Ice only journeyed on to evacuate those at the end of the boulevard, and relay any news he could. From a nearby window poked a mask, beckoning for the Toa Nuva’s help. As the water pushed him away, demanding he conform to the march along the street, Kopaka summoned a ramp of ice that arched over the water, surfing on it toward the Matoran. The rain had different ideas, however, as it slicked the ice with each drop. Losing his footing, Kopaka tumbled into that which he wished to avoid; within seconds a rogue wave swept him away, leaving the Matoran once more helpless and hopeless. Though he was thrashed and tossed around underwater, Kopaka felt strangely still. On the surface, the waters could be seen running wild, while a steady current flowed underneath that, pulling him along. He needn’t call for his Mask of Water Breathing, for a bubble of air surrounded his head. Though curious about the phenomenon and knowing he needed to get back to the Matoran, he felt somewhat satisfied as he watched the world above, muted. I know your secrets. His first impression was of Solek, but there was unfamiliarity in the tone, the speaker foreign; nowhere in the water was the warmth of the light, only the cold of the floodwaters. The Toa of Light would be patrolling the coastline at a time like this, not casting thoughts into his friend’s head. Yet someone else had, as Kopaka felt a voice that immersed him, coming from everywhere he turned. I know your secrets, the voice repeated, its tone darker and more sinister this time. Tell them to me. “Who speaks?” Kopaka barked, attempting to freeze himself to the ground. His power went to waste, however, as a tendril of water yanked the ice into the flow of the flood. The waters around you- they are my essence, so there is no escape for you. We both come from what was once one world, yet I have not seen your kind before I returned to my domain. You are here protecting a secret, icy one, and you will reveal it to me. “Whatever you are, you are regrettably mistaken; this is Utywa- there are no secrets here,” Kopaka lied, his vexed mind spinning with questions. Few people knew that the Lighthouse’s beam came from anything but a bulb- This being came from his element like the Toa of Light did, and was infinitely telepathically stronger than him. If this being already knew about Solek, what plans did he have for him? Do not try to fool me, the voice sneered. I know the power that is harbored on these lands, the same power that you and your companions used to herald my arrival, yet far greater… It rests within your country’s heart, and not even your paltry attempts to shore this island will stop me from reaching it. “There is nothing out there for you,” Kopaka insisted. “Your search is fruitless. If you think this is all the power I possess, creature, then you have severely underestimated the power of a Toa Nuva.” And you see this storm around you, yet remain truly ignorant of the power of an Element Lord. Every wave, every drop of water you have ever seen here, has been me, bidding my time, building my power. My power is to yours as yours is to your villagers- there will be no defying me. Stand aside, and perhaps you will be spared as your country frays at its edges. Kopaka’s vision went white as the waters permeated his air bubble, and he struggled to call upon his Kaukau Nuva. Flailing through the uncontrollable waves like a fish, he was unable to discern the surface from the streets. Confused and worried as he looked for control in the madness, it would only be a matter of minutes before he was gone. Washing up on his back, he clung for dear life on a jetty. The storm whipped around him, akin to his dreams; to deny that the Element Lord of Water was anything other than Kopaka’s imagination would’ve been too sweet of a sell out. But there was a peculiarity of how this gale orchestrated itself, a style that convinced Kopaka that there was a puppet master behind it all. Wet and chattering, he pulled himself off, his vision quickly waning. If he were slipping into the oblivion, why would the flicker of the orange be in the corner of his eye? Marching on the beach through the pelting rain, Kopaka found Tiribomba ahead, whips of fire twirling around his body. The Toa of Fire remitted the jets of flame into the sand that whipped around him, turning it into a glass wall. Behind him, the waves crashed dangerously close for the Toa of Ice’s liking; with their landing so loud, he would’ve thought that his approach gone unnoticed. Tiri, however, whirled to see him, and pointed at the wall. “It needs to be built more! Reinforce it with your ice!” were the words that weren’t lost in the tempest. “To give the village more time!” “No! Stop!” the elder Toa demanded, slashing through the air with his hand. “We need to run from here! Get off the beach! We need to--” Kopaka’s words died in his throat, as alongside the island, a wave bigger than any other began to rise from the choppy seas. The Commander of the Cavalry had arrived on the front line. Rising up to touch the rainclouds, it truly made the sky and the sea undistinguishable. The Toa locked hands, knowing that doom was upon them. Not even the strength of a Pakari could’ve kept their grip together, as the Element Lord surged forward on the shoreline. They were blown away like the grains they stood on, scattered in the whirlpool that Utywa had become. Neither of them could fight the waters, so close to death in the dangerous clutches of the Element Lord they were. The tide receded from the beaches, gulleys overflowing where the sand only moments before had piled. A Kanohi popped from one of them, sputtering as he glanced up at the sky, black clouds speeding inland, more ominous than ever before. Dragging himself up to a staggered stance, he glared angrily at the hurricane that still pounded the coastline. Defy me and there will be consequences, the thunder growled. Your companion will suffer as a reminder of that. “What have you done with him?” Kopaka demanded, fuming in the silent downpour. Whether that was a hand or a whitecap out in the waves, he could not go blindly charging int there- Utywa would be short two Toa. Travel by water was no longer an option, but the backroads were hopefully still there, Kopaka hoped as he began a trek toward the lighthouse. The village was no longer safe; he only prayed that the two Matoran headed inland, if not any, had luck on their side. *** The sand made a mockery of the Turaga as he walked toward us- though the ground was steady, each step he took was more uncertain than the last, as he stumbled over weeds that weren’t there. The cane he carried did no justice, struggling with its sole task. Seeing his knees wobble, on the verge of collapse, we rushed to catch him. “What you seek you shall not find,” he rasped, shrugging off the canteen of water Nireta was pressing on him. “and what you find you shall not seek.” We could see the madness in his eyes from his time out here, as he rattled incomprehensively. “It needs to stay hidden,” came his weak whisper. “By the force of the rusted spade, keep it hidden...” his frail voice cracked, and his heartlight went dark, the thousand natural shocks that kept his body alive finally ceasing. Nireta backed off in horror, leaving my eyepiece unable to look away from the dead Turaga in my arms. “We can’t leave him here,” I told Nireta as we laid him in the shade of the tower, shielding him from the sun’s view with a sheet. As we had crossed the barren, it never yielded to try and smother us; with the Turaga it had succeeded, and yet was phlegmatic in the sky, taking no joy in the victory- its mission, as long as we Matoran walked on, and even long after, was far from over. From the Journal of Bour: ...as quickly as the storm had formed when we were at the lighthouse, I feel as if too much time has passed for it not to hit Utywa already. Are we out here running a fool’s errand? I fear the worst for home, but I keep going forward so this won’t happen again. Home. It’s just somewhere in the back of my mind at the moment, more a part of my imagination than a memory. It feels like we’ve been going on for eternity; everywhere we arrive is just an outpost in the heart of the desert, the borders a lifetime away. We travelled the country, looking for this outpost; the Turaga that we buried last night, he now travels another country, one whose bourn no traveller returns. We did not discover his name, but we did find a map, that puzzles even Nireta. A carving of the country surrounded the topmost window, centered around the bustling machines and fortress on the ridge in the distance. Lines all stemmed from the borders, leading to what lay ahead, all connected to a carving below the windowsill- a Kanohi mask, one with the horns of a Kikinalo bull. It could just be a symbol, but so far since we’ve come here I’ve seen none of the likes of this mask. There is something here that Turaga knew about, something bigger than just a digging station going on. His words still puzzle me, and I can’t help but wonder if the two are connected- what did he want buried and why? Review
  11. How much for the neon miru, dume's kiril, the orange vahi? also, what would the individual price for the silver haU?
  12. The original 12 were pretty well designed, I've been a big fan of the noble masks lately. I've always been a fan of the flip side of the Kraakhan, and the Avohkii too.In the later years, Metru Nui on, I was a big fan of Lhikan's Hau- it still somewhat had some feel of the old masks, yet transited into something new. I've liked the possibilities that the Olmak has brought on more than the actual mask :DThinking about it, yes, the masks did radically change once we left Mata Nui. While the diversity was good to have, it showed that Bionicle was growing up?
  13. ...is there any more info from Greg, or is this all of it? It's interesting to reread the serials now with knowing this stuff...I did have an epic planned around the murderer, so it'd still be interesting to see if its still possible to write...
  14. and i instantly want you as a dormie
  15. Are they? I would think fire would mean grab one if you didn't have a choice, but this here is which would you be willing to take if you HAD the choice, like which one means the most to take away with you. I'm not really sure what I want to take to college with me, whether it be a Matoran 01/03/04/06, or a Bohrok or even a smaller 2001 Toa or something. It seems trivial, but I'm like "I have to focus on studies, but I want a piece of me in my dorm. But what Bionicle fits what I want to bring?"
  16. If you had to take ONE Bionicle with you, on a long trip of a few months, which would you take with you? Why? Would it be for personal reasons, or for just the sheer love of the set?I'm currently headed for college in a few days, and I've been thinking this question- should I at least take a small Matoran or Bohrok or something of the like, just to have a piece of my old self with me, or leave it all behind, and figure that I'd be home again by Christmas? It does seem kind of trivial, so silly, but it's just a thought for the rest of BZP. In addition to this, when Hurricane Irene struck last August, along the east coast, many of my friends had to pick their most valued possessions while they were being swept away in mandatory island evacuations. Most of us from the old days have certainly amassed a fair share of Bionicle sets through the years, and I've wondered what would we take with us if we were in the same situation.So, what would you take?
  17. Pre Metru Nui Takua I've been trying to make for a few weeks now, everything is always one shade off. :-/ Onu- and Le-Matoran 2003 sets would've been awesome, just for the teal and Onepu's purple. But hey, spray paint works too. As far as Turaga Lhikan goes, there IS a set form for him, and the instructions are under his biosector01 page. With Mutant Kikinalo- you're going off the one from the Toa Hordika series in the Bionicle comics, right? That'd be awesome to see!I think that was what made bionicle exciting. So many sets that we DIDN'T have, but could've.
  18. Honestly, that is the sole reason I chose him as a protagonist in my epic True, never really did consider that he did give the expression some meaning. For that, I also love the Voyoran, because they were true Toa at heart, and most of them BECOME Toa in Alternate Dimensions. (Velika, Balta and Dalu in the Kingdom, for example, even though they aren't shown) I think all of the MNOG 03/04 Matoran are unused characters each with extreme potential.
  19. Very creepy, I have to say! Great story of paranoia here. Metru Nui stories are always a favorite, and you did well here. Funny how fear can drive a person- or Matoran- to do different things. You made it clean and clear about how Mirzova felt with the Nurrakh outside his home, and that made it easy to picture and feel the Ta-Matoran's fear.Arriving early for work can be an odd thing... I found it stuck out at me due to a recent local happening, so it made me look at both Nuhrii's and Mirzova's character. Neither of them like suprises, it seems, and the irregularity of the visit like Nuhrii states, just emphasizes the overall creepyness of the story.This story also hits me because it portrays the Vahki in a good light, in the end... haven't read too many stories about that. Good job!Very creepy story, and very well done!
  20. So that's why I just got the flood control message ...
  21. Of course crew happens on every time I have work -.-. Got to see a few womens races, particularly the 8s repochage- Netherlands was awesome! But USA brought it home! Also diving and the 800m womens freestyle- I was amazed that the one girl was only 15! And Michael phelps- kudos to him, amazing performance. What events are left?
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