Ballom Nom Nom

Galidor Gen 2.

Flickr More details available in the Flickr description.

And the bubble paper?

Happy birthday, Hahli Husky!

Thanks for the comment! It's good to see someone stop by who's familiar with the stories Argentaros is from, and I'm further glad you think it fits the character. How can they talk in Matoran, you ask? I don't think it's too much of a stretch to believe they'd have that ability (something about the ability to move their jaws a lot, maybe); given the details of the Quntaino life cycle as a whole, it's far from the strangest thing about them.

Thanks! I originally tried out the white fur pieces because I had fewer of the bley ones than I had initially thought, but I think it ended up working out really well with the white mane effect. Thank you very much! I think a MOC's pretty successful if people can doubt parts of it are Lego, so I consider that quite the compliment. Well, this version doesn't have a tremendous amount of neck either, but it is better than the previous one in that regard especially. I just cringe looking at that old photo these days. Good thing I've improved since then!

AD.AM is one of the most elegant MOCs I've seen in a while, and easily got my vote.

The talkback links have always just linked to the talkback forum. If you'd clicked the first link in the news story you'd have been brought straight here. @Ballom: On the contrary, as a one of the oldest member to have joined here in 2002. I remember many things and i clearly remember that there was a time in bzpower's older older years where the talkback button was a direct link to the talkback topic instead of the talkback forum where all the topics for the are and you need to find the news topic you want it to get there. I don't understand why it changed, i only remember it was somewhere around when Bionicle Rex (Rich) one of BZPower's owners and Co-Founders, and most revered Administrators stepped down from command and Black Six (Andrew) took over as head administrator. It was around then when the links were changed to how to how it works. Okay, so admittedly way back in the day it worked like that. In fact, it still did when I joined in 2006. What I left off in my post was that it's always been that way since the change when the forums switched to the new board software around 2011 or so, which I thought was a bit besides the point given that it's been a long time and Toa Imrukii joined after that switch had happened anyway.

Flickr The unquestioned leader of the Quntaino, the strange beings birthed from the keystone eggs on Terra Nui, Argentaros is brilliant and ambitious. He desires the Kanohi Zlinj, Mask of Nature, above all else and is willing to go to any length to achieve it. As the alpha Quntaino, he possesses a peculiar extra sense that always points him in the general direction of the Zlinj. Argentaros has mammalian characteristics such as thick fur, a fanged muzzle, long claws, and powerful muscles; however, his burning crystalline eyes are a mystery, and a terror, to behold. He carries a living whiplash as a weapon. A drastic revamp of a way old (and bad) MOC, viewable here. Argentaros features in some stories of mine, which you can find here. Also kind of counts as a MOC for my tenth anniversary on BZPower, since although there was some schedule slippage I was planning this remake (reMOC?) for a while.

Congrats to the winners! There were some superb entries this time around, especially that Manas! The talkback links have always just linked to the talkback forum. If you'd clicked the first link in the news story you'd have been brought straight here.

Chapter Fifteen At first, they had chosen not to run, instead walking forward with a clear, measured stride further into the labyrinthine expanses of the fortress. Around them, hanging lightstones stretched forward in an uninterrupted cascade of luminescent yellow. Hanak led, to allow full use of his abilities without a chance of injury to his comrades, while Vukaz and a grizzled Sharaku followed, the latter wielding the only functional specimen of Chazok’s cache of stout rifles in a clawed hand. Aware that more drones or Sharaku opponents could be lurking in the shadows ahead, the trio wisely kept silent, marching onward with the knowledge of how crucial it was to search for the control area. The fuel explosion’s muffled roar only barely reached them through the corridor walls, but in following moments each of the Sharaku had admitted to themselves that it was likely in the Brotherhood’s favor, for Chazok’s collection lacked heavy explosives. With this collective realization, their wary stride quickened into a faster pace, across they marched through branching passageways, always in the direction which seemed to slope downward most. Thukor had once been a servant Torika stationed in the fortress, before the central stronghold had burrowed away, and downward travel was the point he was most insistent about. The Sharaku of Ice had related how the Dark Lord always kept to a secure room in the bottom level, barricaded against entry by all but his most trusted warriors. This region could only be the mysterious control center of the mobile fortress. This advice certainly appeared to be supported by their onward journey. Grey blocks from the corridors had begun to transition into darker shades: pitted black stones stained by the passing of tendrils of shadow, and dark cobbling covered by greenish scum. In some places, stagnant water appeared across the floor, which Vukaz quietly absorbed to prevent splashing as they passed. The silence was almost unnerving as they pressed on, mutely taking in the bizarre nature of their surroundings, which were unlike any of the descriptions Thukor had given. Out of the trio, the grizzled Sharaku concentrating most intensely, absorbed in examination of the flooring. To his trained eyes, the growth had a certain pattern, almost as if the levels of grime varied. Impressions were slowly appearing, akin to . . . In an instant, he halted, barking an urgent “Stop!” The other two froze, and Vukaz reflexively threw up an energy shield before them. Yet this was futile, as the attack did not come from the front — as Vukaz projected his defense, twin shadows fell from the ceiling behind them, stabbing forward with their staffs. In a two-pronged strike, one aimed its assault at Vukaz’s reinforced backplate, the sharp weapon piercing the plating to wound the Sharaku of Water. Vukaz grimaced, but was able to pivot enough to direct a forceful water jet at his assailant. Although not damaging, this quick response still forced the Rahkshi back, dislodging the staff in the process. Glaring at the hideous creature, Vukaz readied his water daggers for a return strike. Meanwhile, the second Rahkshi had aimed for Hanak, nimbly sidestepping the older Sharaku to flick its staff at Hanak’s face. However, it was unprepared for the crimson-armored Sharaku’s blistering reaction, as he turned, dodged the staff’s blade as it went by, and cleaved the weapon in two with a firesword. The weaponless Rahkshi pitched sideways clumsily, in time for the third Sharaku to hook the claws of his free hand around its head and hurl it at the wall, before promptly shooting it several times with the rifle. Twirling, he found Hanak and Vukaz finishing the other Rahkshi, with Vukaz delivering a finishing blow after Hanak immobilized the creature in a swirl of fire. “Hanak,” the veteran said quickly, “They wouldn’t attack if we weren’t close. They mean to slow us. Go; we will defend ourselves!” To prove the point, despite his injury Vukaz raised a full shield around himself and the elder Sharaku, who raised the butt of the rifle to his shoulder. “Time is of the essence, Hanak!” Vukaz cried. “Yes,” Hanak responded, breaking into a sprint down the passage, the strange projections on the walls passing by in a blur. Briefly the piercing screeches of Kraata echoed behind him, followed by clashing of weapons, but then these sounds disappeared as he flew down the corridors. More alerted Rahkshi had begun to drop from ceiling alcoves in front of him, but compared to Hanak’s speed they moved as sluggishly as Nukepi snails. Racing by them, Hanak noticed many opportunities to slash at the descending forms, but realized he could best serve his companions by both conserving his strength and reaching the control room of the complex as rapidly as possible. So the Sharaku of Fire dashed forward down the corridors, which ceased their branching to present a linear path, although they also in turn grew more foreboding with every passing second. What was once an uninterrupted stream of gold lightstones suspended from the ceiling became a haphazard trail of dying stones, hanging down only in the few areas which were not overgrown by tapestry of lichens. The walls themselves, which before were clearly identifiable as hewn blocks of stone, had instead gradually morphed into a black chitin-like substance lined with slime, and the grimy water upon the floor likewise coalesced into a shallow pool of shadows. Unnerved by his surroundings, Hanak slowed to a fast walk, extending again the fireswords he had retracted during his sprint. Insidious plant matter threatening to choke out the light of the scant lightstones combined with the creeping shadows on the floor to leave even his keen vision struggling to find the twisting path. Thankfully, he could hear no longer hear the Rahkshi he had encountered earlier; yet Hanak remained cautious, as the greenery above him provided ample hiding spots. Eventually, when Hanak’s eyes could scarcely piece together any of his surroundings, the corridor stopped. Not in a door, or any other type of discernible portal, but merely in shadow. Hanak raised one of his swords to probe forward, and felt intense resistance as he plunged the weapon into the darkest shadows. Frowning, he tried to pull back the firesword only for the gloom to cling tightly to it. Realizing that his physical strength would likely prove insufficient, Hanak concentrated his thoughts on retracted his outstretched tool. In the past, this psychic process would happen almost instantaneously, yet with the sword so encumbered, its blade only inched back into its housing in the vambrace. Hanak held the vambrace tightly with his free hand, and concentrated more strongly. Bit by bit, the rest of the firesword withdrew into the crimson armor. The Sharaku let out a sigh of relief, and then regarded the shield of shadows before him once more. Perhaps if a physical weapon could not damage it, elemental powers would suffice. Summoning tongues of flames in his hands, he projected a blast of fire at the aberration’s center. Yet, the elemental discharge winked out of existence as soon as it encountered the mass of shadow. Undeterred, Hanak took a few steps back and knelt, gathering his power within his body. For a few moments the air in the corridor remained cool, and then it began to suffuse with intense warmth, until tiny embers danced in the air around the Sharaku of Fire, lighting the passageway with a ruddy glow. In a single fluid motion Hanak came to his feet and thrusts his palms outward, propelling a fireball forward. It collided with the dark barrier, and then a plume exploded outward in a vermillion gout of flame that billowed past Hanak down the passage. His eyes were momentarily blinded by the enormity of the flash, and as the afterimage receded, from the light of the blazing vegetation around him he was able to clearly see that the wall of shadows which ended the corridor was completely unaffected by his fiery assault. Hanak hissed in exasperation. Undoubtedly the command center of the fortress lay beyond this fiendish barrier. But the shadows were impervious to physical and elemental harm, unable to be marred even the slightest by either. Instead, anything that they encountered was greedily sucked into the void, and— He paused. Perhaps, there remained one option yet untried. If he were to be wrong, this would likely prove to be his last action. But now that he was trapped within the fortress depths, with his friends and comrades struggling and dying around him, there really was no decision to be made. Hanak steeled himself, took a deep breath, and stepped into the absolute shadows. ------ Back in the cavernous drone storage facility, Bokoch used a moment of respite to observe how numerous melees continued throughout its long expanses. Although piles of scrap that once formed mechanoids were strewn about, large contingents of the tenacious machines still assaulted the Sharaku and Torika forces. Admittedly, the warlord noticed that they appeared much more calculating and vigilant than during the initial fray. Perhaps this change in strategy towards caution marked a small victory. Regardless, the robots had now become a more dangerous adversary. Bokoch would have to exercise more care himself, particularly with his only semi-healed wounds. Maneuvering himself out from behind the pair of drone carapaces he had used as a momentary cover, the Skakdi readied his acquired rapier, scanning the immediate surroundings for motion. It appeared suddenly on his left: two drones dropping down from the nearest catwalk. Not wielding melee weapons, they instead strafed, each launching multiple micro-rockets. In a flurry of motion, Bokoch blasted two of the projectiles apart with his heat vision, flicked his wrist to slice apart the third, and weaved to dodge the last few. “Pitiful,” he growled, hurling himself at the nearest drone with a shoulder charge before it could react. The blow struck it like a sledgehammer, and the robot crashed to the floor as Bokoch rolled to his feet. Stomping on the downed unit’s head, he tensed for another barrage of rockets. Instead, a series of piercing darts sprayed across his chest. His tempered chestplate deflected most, but a single needle struck through a gap in the plating. Snarling, the warlord hefted the collapsed robot, hurling it in an explosive motion. As it landed, it toppled the other drone, and Bokoch lunged, delivering a strike with such strength that the rapier shattered in his hand. Once more free of assailants, he carefully reached into the gap in his armor, tweezing out the needle with two fingers. Revealed in the light, its blade shone with a greenish film. Poison, no doubt, he thought bitterly; another attacker for his besieged body to handle. It would be a deadly one, no doubt of that, and caught up in the conflict he would be hard-pressed to produce an antidote. In fact, he only knew of one being in the vicinity that could be relied upon to have one — Zerakura. As well-informed as his operatives had made him about her habits, Bokoch knew that she often applied poisons to her knives, and carried a wide variety of antidotes. A bitter irony, that his greatest rival held what could save him. Casting his gaze about, Bokoch searched amid the chaotic clamor of battle. Soon enough, he found the other Skakdi warlord partway across the room beneath a large balcony overhang, single-handedly engaging an entire group of drones. He staff and daggers were a brilliant blur as she fended off multiple rapiers and blades. Bokoch began to make his way toward her, mentally wondering how he might force an antidote out of the hands of his nemesis. He had made only a handful of steps when an inferno of pain racked his chest, leaving him clutching it and gasping for breath. The toxin was more potent than expected; he needed to move fast. With herculean willpower Bokoch drove his ailing body forward, managing a fast pace. Before him, Zerakura remained fortunately unaware of her extended surroundings, knifing apart two of the drones. As Bokoch neared within close eyeshot of Zerakura, he took a few precious seconds to circle around out of her line of sight, and then readied for further approach when an explosion blossomed on the balcony above. The entirety of the outstretched overhang crumbled, pouring piles of protodermis rubble and machine wreckage down toward Zerakura and the mechanoids. More nimble than they, she attempted to backflip out of the way. She only made it halfway – the tumble of masonry caught her from the waist down before she could escape. When the dust settled, the drones were revealed to have been entombed, as Zerakura scrambled in vain to free herself. Thus given the chance to safely advance, Bokoch dragged himself over to her, as she failed to notice him in her single-minded desire for freedom. When his shadow fell upon her, however, she glanced up, scowling at the towering figure. “Come to gloat over the wounded, eh? Begone, fool! I would rather perish than receive any aid from you!” she shrieked, clawing at Bokoch’s feet. Bokoch shook his head. “Poison,” he croaked, indicating the pulsing green wound in his chest. “Need your antidote.” She paused, and a crafty gleam came to her eyes. “I recognize such a wound. If you let me die you will not have the time to save yourself. A trade, then; the right antidote for you in exchange for aiding me. We each live to kill each other another day?” Hardly in a position to refuse, Bokoch nodded, and reached to move the protodermis hunks. They fell away cleanly under his prodigious strength, revealing Zerakura’s wounded legs, one of which was evidently broken, twisted at a grotesque angle. Cursing violently as she saw the severity of her injury, she nevertheless kept her side of the agreement, reaching into a hip pouch to retrieve a variety of obscure plants and dried Rahi parts. Taking this, she kneaded them into a ball, which she then chewed on briefly, before handing the completed concoction to Bokoch. “Place that in the site of the infection, and hold it there,” she instructed. By now, Bokoch knew he had to trust himself entirely to her goodwill; every gulp of air sent paroxysms of agony through him. He dutifully squeezed the poultice against the site, and held his breath. The response was practically instantaneous — convulsions seized his chest, rippling toward the wound with force that seemed enough to crack bone. Mentally cursing Zerakura, he tried to swing his free hand at her, but found he could not move, his body locked in place like a statue. His vision warped in front of him, the world a twisting kaleidoscope, fading into darkness. The next sensation he was aware of was Zerakura leaving heavily against him for support, as she tore the antidote from his side. Bokoch’s eyes snapped open, taking in surroundings once more in crystal clarity. Involuntarily, he took a breath, which to his surprise passed easily through his lungs. “What did you use?” the warlord marveled as he felt a rush of strength suffuse his body. “Steltian sponge, mostly,” she replied, discarding the purple, inflated sphere she had torn from him. “Now, support me as we move out. I cannot walk; to fulfill your end of the bargain you must help.” Bokoch inclined his head. “I gave my word.” Stepping around Zerakura, he wrapped a thick arm around her waist, as she grudgingly placed an arm on his shoulder for support. “Don’t get any ideas,” she snapped. “My dear, the only idea that might occur to me would be to snap your neck,” Bokoch replied, surveying the area around them. With the destruction of Zerakura’s attackers, the other robots seemed too occupied to directly assault them, with the nearest being wrapped up in fighting a Torika. Noticing this, with her free hand Zerakura drew a dagger and prepared to throw it, while Bokoch gathered his heat vision. For an instant, Bokoch felt a mysterious power flowing through him. Then, the dagger flew from Zerakura’s hand, propelled by a column of water crackling with electric current. Bokoch was thunderstruck — somehow, with their physical contact and temporary truce, he and Zerakura had unleashed the combination of their respective latent elemental powers, water and — “Electricity?” he bellowed. “Why is it not the glorious warmth of fire?” “Electricity is exactly what we need!” cried Zerakura, as the fried drone collapsed in a heap. Raising her hand, she summoned a whirlwind of lightning-imbued water in her palm. “Let the rest of them fall before us!” Review

I was a fan of it. The first year was Bionicle by any other name, and the later years had the awesome new CCBS system, which I'm quite fond of.

1. The Prime Trilogy edition. 2. Definitely Metroid Prime. I loved the areas, atmosphere, and overall feel of the game, and the Trilogy Wii controls were perfect. 3. Probably Quadraxis. The spectacle of fighting this gigantic machine in the huge arena, combined with the multiple boss phases and cool music, really made it a memorable fight. 4. Phendrana Drifts, definitely. It has those beautiful desolate landscapes, and the best music of any area. 5. Yeah, because I've heard that various enemies from the Prime Trilogy return, and I want to see those.

An intriguing start to an epic. Dare I hope that this will be a Bionicle epistolary story, or is the introduction the main part that's in such a form?

Wow, this was unexpected. Disappointing that Bionicle wasn't pulling its weight enough to get that third year of sets. Ah well. Requiescat en pace and all that. Welp, better start buying the rest of the Uniters before they're gone from stores!

While there has often been schedule slippage in the past, it's not the case here. The preliminary polls, which were never edited since being posted in June, all make no mention of semifinals, only the finals. In this contest, as in a number of others in that past, semifinals were cancelled since there were few enough entries that those advancing from preliminaries will already be enough for a final poll.

Happy birthday! Enjoy being old.

Um ... hasn't Black Six confirmed that Destiny Fulfilled isn't actually the final title? That would make this topic kinda moot...

And here I am playing Pokemon Go disconnected from the real world, having turned of the AR feature due to the game guzzling my phone's battery even more with that enabled than when it's off. :/

Thanks for that long insightful post, GSR. As someone who's never joined any social media beyond parts of Flickr's Lego segment (and maybe that counts after a fashion), I didn't really have any idea how social media was affecting forums like BZP, and I really appreciate the extra insight you gave there. Would recruiting more staff be something that would help, in your opinion? You mention the skillsets of current staff as seeming to be a limiting factor. Alice and Bob as placeholder names? We've found the computer scientist!

Do we get a discounted entry fee if we wear multiple hats? =P One hug per every ten hats after the first hat. May an individual departing BrickFair convert a surfeit of hugs back into hats?

After all those years on the job, the staff needed something to slim down those spare tires, eh? I actually hadn't realized that the staff was so small now. I suppose all of the retirements slowly added up, and there haven't been any new staff additions in a while. Still, I wouldn't worry; our revered IPB Admin can handle anything.

I think the abundance of new slopes and other smooth pieces make them look much more streamlined and cool (especially apparent when comparing the TIE fighter iterations), but I'm still very partial to the two older ones I own, the AT-ST and the Imperial Class Star Destroyer.

Happy birthday, BZPower! Here's to many more!

A bit odd to have a poll with so few options. I went with 2015, due to the nostalgia of the return of the Toa and Matoran-like sets.