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55555

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Everything posted by 55555

  1. 55555

    I Blame Kakaru

    *flees blog entry in disarray* - 55555
  2. As a representative of the League of History I advise building our population and colonizing as many planets as possible. As a relatively young civilization we should strive for long term investments and building up our infrastructure. Our most crucial and valuable unit is that of population, as it is, to use a phrase from the ancient days "a gift that keeps on giving." I do however wholeheartedly support our continued development of propulsion systems, as this will speed our colonization efforts and subsequently our population growth.Once we have established a sizable network of planets we should be able to easily convert to a more aggressive stratagem, and the galaxy will hear our name.With all due respect,- Vistantium V, Representative of the League of History, and owner of Baby Bibs, Bags & Bottles Inc.
  3. 55555

    Turn Down The Heat

    My feet are cold. :~/ Maybe we could work out an AC exchange system? - 55555
  4. 55555

    In Other News

    That would be excellent, I was just reflecting on how almost no-one I knew was going. - 55555
  5. I was just about to buy this book and his second one, I got the third from the library a couple days ago and have spent hours reading and rereading it, it was literally right in front of me when I saw this. XD - 55555
  6. 55555

    Art

    Lines of action are the piece of the puzzle that you're missing I think. Try them! This pose is static, there's no significant movement to it. - 55555
  7. Son of a gun Ced, now I want to write a comedy.- 55555
  8. As the Smoke Monster said, that is correct, yes.Sorry for the slow official response.- 55555
  9. 55555

    Art

    The detail and perspectives on this are quite good. To achieve more fluid poses, try using a line of action at the beginning of your drawing. - 55555
  10. Script was good enough for Shakespeare, so there's that. I've never written in it, but it has some benefits. You lose a lot of the narrator elements, and that is replaced with practical imagery. And characters thoughts are a lot more difficult to put in.- 55555
  11. 55555

    A Monster Calls

    Oh look it's in my library system. *requests* - 55555
  12. KERNAL CRASH. RENDERED INEFFECTIVE DUE TO BEEEEEEEEEP BOOP BOOP BEEEEEEEEP
  13. BRAND LOYALTY WAS RENDERED INEFFECTIVE DUE TO LINUX
  14. Happy birthday!Enjoy whatever stuff happens to happen.- 55555
  15. 55555

    So Tired ._.

    Hmmm... I've heard sleep deals with that problem pretty well, might be a crazy idea. - 55555
  16. 55555

    Ever Up

    I enjoyed it. I liked the way you didn't actually say he was old, but gradually let us realize that as you described his trouble doing his various tasks, and going into him being a hermit for so long.I like the idea of him realizing his death was coming and preparing for it in practical, prideful, and symbolic ways. To me unexplained, possibly supernatural things like a his knowledge of his upcoming death are really good ideas and add a lot of mojo to a story.Glad you entered this challenge, I hope you had fun with it. - 55555
  17. 55555

    An Update To Life

    They finally released a patch to IRL? Sweet! It's loooooooong overdue! TBH, I haven't played it in years, maybe I'll have to revisit it. - 55555
  18. I was up in that neck of the woods once when I was little. And yeah, those buffalo signs were everywhere. "DO NOT LEAVE YOUR CAR BECAUSE BUFFALO" "DO NOT GLARE AT THE BUFFALO" "DO NOT HAVE TEA PARTIES WITH BUFFALO" - 55555
  19. Here's the belated banner:And for good measure:"The general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It is by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to win or lose."-Sun Tzu, the Art of War- 55555
  20. THEME #12: "The general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It is by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to win or lose."-Sun Tzu, the Art of WarPreparationAny interpretation valid. Remember this is a COT Theme. Entries must comply with all rules posted in the first post. Sorry for the delay.Deadline:June 8th, 3:00 PM EST- 55555
  21. Vote here for your favorite Alternate Universe story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on June 7th at 11:59 PM EST. Entries that do well will move on to the Alternate Universe Final Poll, which will be posted at the conclusion of the 12th round preliminary poll.[*]Artificial Intelligence Ackar was quietly reading when he heard a noise behind him, a light metal scrape and the unnerving whirr of mechanical joints. It was something he had grown to live with, but he still found it unsettling. He breathed in and turned to the little mechanical creature standing beside his chair. They were odd creatures, certainly. Hey had come from the metal giant that had touched down on the planet and healed their world by reuniting the three pieces of the planet. Then, its duty done, it shut down, and the parts were scrapped by the celebrating Agori. But not before they discovered the creatures. They lived in cities, working to keep the robot running. But they were mindless, it seemed; they did not speak unless asked a question, and they seemed to have no will of their own. So, they were taken from the robot and used as drones, as robotic servants. Ackar had been issued one of the species ‘Matoran’, but he didn’t much like having it around. The thing wore red armour and an odd mask, and it seemed an expert in metalwork. It repaired armour and weapons with remarkable ease. When Ackar asked its name, it had replied with a monotonic “Matoran_Vakama”. Now, as he looked at it, he found himself feeling guilty. It really DID look like some sort of child, and he felt terrible for sending it to sleep in the closet every night. It disturbed him with its blank expression and dull eyes, but it could not be helped. It was here to stay. “You, uh, finished the repairs on my armour?” Ackar asked it. It nodded, and Ackar glanced away. “… Ah. And dinner is prepared?” It responded with “System_task: ‘Prepare Dinner’ completed.” “Oh, good.” Ackar rose, and Vakama dutifully placed his book back on the shelf. The red warrior sighed and stretched his aging limbs. “All right. Thank you.” He was about to head off for the kitchen when the communicator on his table buzzed. He pressed a button on it and spoke into the receiver. “Hello, this is Ackar.” “Yeah, I know, I called your number.” It was Kiina, and she sounded peeved. “What’s wrong?” “My Toa, Helryx, that’s what! It’s REFUSING to spar with me!” “Refusing? Are you using simple words with it?” “Yes, but it’s still saying ‘Request denied’ or something like that.” It was then that Ackar heard something behind him. The softest of clicks. He spoke softly into the receiver, “Kiina, I’ll call you back. Be careful.” “What-“ He hung up the phone and turned, ready for a surprise attack. What he saw was Vakama, wielding a sword made from scrap metal. The Matoran hadfire in its eyes, and it was burning brighter than any sun. The hand wielding the blade was shaking terribly. It said, in a tone that, for once, wavered with emotion, “System_task: ‘Fight For Freedom’ in progress.” Ackar looked at the small creature, which stared back with the eyes of a frightened child. He smiled weakly. “Here’s a new system task for you, friend: go free.” The robot dropped the weapon, unbelieving. Then, without another word, it ran. Ackar watched it go, and silently wished it a safe journey. ------- [*]Tahu’s Landing Tahu stood up for the first time and looked around. He was on a barren, desert island. In the distance, he could see the glowing form of a volcano. But it was odd somehow; more of an artificial shape than an actual volcano should have. Tahu knew about volcanoes; he was the Toa of Fire after all. Of course, that was about all he knew. He had just reassembled himself after his canister had landed on the beach. Before then, he had been inside it for endless ages, and his memory was mostly blank. He still had visions from a past life. There were people, smaller than him, who he assisted. There were beasts who he fought. And there were other beings, similar to him, who he worked with closely. Even the white one, who he felt a strong rivalry towards, was still his ally. They were a team. And they had a purpose. There was an evil that they had to face. The exact details were fuzzy, but they would do their best to see that it was defeated. Tahu started walking down the sand, glancing around. His first priority, then, would be to locate his teammates. He walked a few paces away from his canister, but then his foot stepped on something in the sand. He glanced down to see a Bio-mechanical part, similar to those of which he had just used to build himself. Thinking he must have missed this piece, Tahu knelt down to examine it. To his surprise, it was a hand, and Tahu had both his already accounted for. He brushed aside some of the sand, and soon realized it wasn’t just a hand. It was a full bio-mechanical skeleton. The being, whoever it had been, was smaller than Tahu, but still similarly proportioned. But he was long gone, as his biological components had died away. From his overall position, Tahu surmised that this creature had been in pain when he met his demise. Surely great evil had taken place here. Tahu continued down the beach, but his horror grew as he found more and more bodies. There had been quite a crowd on this beach when the slaughter began. There were hundreds of the small beings, and Tahu found that they all wore masks similar to his own. And then he found the larger ones. Six of them, about as tall as Tahu himself; all pass away. Tahu somehow knew that they weren’t his teammates, but still, they must have been his brothers in arms. Something had taken the lives of all the beings on the beach. Something evil had occurred here. And Tahu now knew his purpose. He would find this evil, and defeat it. Leaving the bodies on the beach behind, Tahu ventured towards the volcano. ------- [*]Sidorak’s Zoo It’s more of a long hallway beneath Sidorak’s Coliseum than a zoo. But he likes to call it a zoo anyways. The exhibit is made up of a handful of the most amazing Visorak Venom mutations in all of Metru Nui. The cages they are kept in are more like power-negating cells built into the wall with thick glass for observation purposes. Beneath each cage is an inscribed plaque that states the species of the animal before it was disfigured beyond recognition. If one enters the exhibition hallway from the front of the Coliseum, the first cage on the right, holds a grand Fader Bull mutation. It stands taller than a Toa at the shoulder. Hooves have wicked claws growing from them at painful angles, and its jaw has twisted into a horrible, fanged under bite. A rhotuka launcher sits in the middle of its forehead. The hordika mutation across from the Fader Bull was once a noble Gukko bird. Now its neck, formerly elegant and serene, is cricked and molting. Its beak is misaligned gruesomely and sickly green saliva drips from its mouth that never closes. Its wings drag on the ground behind it, fully dysfunctional. It has dead eyes and a hopeless spirit. Moving on, the next exhibit on the right-hand side is a Takea shark. But the unfortunate thing has so much Venom coursing though it’s veins that it has become a land-rahi, and an ugly one at that. It has short stumps for legs, sprouting randomly from its underside. They resemble tumors more than legs. One of its eyes has migrated to the other side of its face, making it totally blind on one side. Perhaps to compensate, that side has sprouted a spinner-launcher. It’s impossible to tell how it can breathe air now, but the process looks painful regardless. Set opposite the eerie corridor now is a mutated Muaka Tiger. The hordika rahi has top fangs so long that they almost reach the floor, making it impossible for it to lie down. Two large growths on its back occasionally shiver, possibly wings waiting to sprout. Between the prospect wing buds sits a useless and warped Rhotuka Launcher. The last six exhibits are the most amazing. Not because of the pure horror of the atrocities they house, but because of what those atrocities used to be. Primal and perhaps at one point sentient, they prowl around their cells like delusional wolves that are constantly in a state of suffering. They are hunched and walk with aid of their long arms, snapping savagely at any passerby and foaming at the mouth. Bestial intelligence can occasionally be seen glinting in their eyes. Each is equipped with a fully functional Rhotuka, and many of the cages bear marks of these. Through the glass, nobody can hear them. But if the glass was not soundproof, the entire Coliseum would be filled with anguished howling and wails of the condemned creatures for eternity. Even though all six look like they could have once been from the same species, their plaques indicate differently. Each one reads a different species name. Vakama Nokama Matau Nuju Onewa Whenua ------- [*]Time It was the end of the Universe as they knew it. The very fabric of reality, the Space-Time continuum, had been torn apart, massive wormholes popped in and out of existence, and Time shifted, merciful as a Piraka. Amidst this mayhem a Toa of Ice sat with a Toa of Earth, sheltered within a machine of their own making. The Toa of Ice spoke: "there is no sense in returning to the past, trying to set this straight: our Universe will still exist in this state, our act will only create an alternate universe which, undoubtedly, would have been created otherwise. There is nothing we can do that has not already been done." "I have analyzed all available data, from that pivotal point in Time, there is nothing that could have saved our Universe from the Time Collapse. If we return to steal the Vahi, take it before it can be destroyed, we can create an alternate Universe. We can save Time." "We are needed here." "Inhabitants of this Universe are doomed. Should we deny these Matoran a better fate in an alternate universe?" ----- The two Toa activated the Time Machine, checking and rechecking meters, dials, statistics. The slightest error, and they could materialize inside a mountain, instantly killing themselves, removing all hope of an ordered Universe. The machine began to vibrate as it drew power from energized protodermis, and it slipped through a gaping hole in the Fabric of Reality, taking a shortcut into the past, to that fateful point in Time... ----- A Toa of Ice stood outside a large structure, waiting to be relieved of guard duties. He didn’t wait long, for soon, a Toa of Earth approached him, took his place. Behind a gate, an identical Toa of Ice stepped out of a great Machine, moving aside for an identical Toa of Earth to emerge. “We mustn’t be seen...especially not by ourselves. A paradox is the last thing we need.” The Toa climbed over the gate, darting behind obstacles as they made their way toward the great structure. They gave themselves a wide berth as they made their way around the building, climbing the walls, through an open window. There was no Time to lose. Rushing silently through corridors, hardly daring to breathe, they found themselves in front of the door. The door behind which the Mask of Time rested; innocent, yet guilty, of the end of Time as we know it. The Toa of Earth heard his past self outside of the building, yelling, he remembered doing the exact thing. Soon, the malicious individual would arrive. They grabbed the Vahi, dashing out the door. The Toa of Stone heard himself rushing up the stairs, remembered chasing a thief, just before Time was torn apart. The Toa launched themselves out of the window, sprinting madly toward the Time Machine. The Toa of Earth stumbled, fell to the ground, the Vahi cracked beneath him. Then the realization struck him: he was the thief, it was he who had caused the end of Time. Could he undo his actions, save Reality? Nearby plants started to wilt as Time took a blow; the Toa gathered up the fragments the Vahi, sprinting the last few meters to the Time Machine, locking themselves inside, powering on, isolating themselves from Reality, and not a moment too soon. The Vahi let out a blast of energy, strong enough to cripple Reality, yet affecting no more than two brave Toa and a Time Machine, cut off from the Universe, from Reality. Time, the brutal dictator, would live to govern another day. ------ [*]Mindscape The Toa have failed us, and we can no longer trust them. What scattered few survived the Death of Mata Nui and the resulting chaos now live in the crumbling ruins of Metru Nui. “Our Great Hero,” the one destined to awaken Mata Nui lies on the shores, stoned to death the moment he arrived on the island, the Kanohi Ignika still in his grasp. I guess some might say that we need their help, because Matoran have started disappearing. I have no reason to fear, because I know exactly where they’re going. Years ago, when the Matoran’s protodermis supplies began running low, the old Onu-Le-Koro Highway was expanded in a desparate attempt to scavenge any last remnant of the life blood of our civilization. What we found was much more shocking. At first, it was simply a spot we could not penetrate, but as the tunnels webbed over and around, soon eyes, mouth, and nose took shape. A few brave Onu-Matoran ventured inside a small hatch, and discovered the massive robot was the being we called Mata Nui. They also discovered a large, rotating sphere that must have once glowed with the energy of the Great Spirit. Upon a touch, the Matoran was sucked away into another world. Mindscape. A virtual world inside our Great Spirit full of infinite possibilities, the place I was going today. The only way to get there was to get around a barricade into the lost tunnel, and into a dismal room filled with the limp bodies of Matoran who entered earlier. With a simple touch, my Kanohi dissolved into Matoran symbols, and a deep voice I could imagine was Mata Nui announced “Now entering Mindscape: Name: Therikh; Element: Iron. The Matoran symbols vanished, revealing a dark street criss-crossed with lit panels through my visor. My mask had changed slightly, and my body had become black with glowing rust-red lines representing my element. Then I knew everything had changed. It was then that a Le-Matoran startled me as he crashed into me. “Go back!” He repeatedly shouted. “It isn’t safe here; it isn’t the utopia you’d…uh!” A blast of shadow hit him from behind, suffocating him as he collapsed. A being stepped out from the same alley and almost pitifully gazed on the now dead Matoran. The body had collapsed into more symbols, and the being casually kicked aside the mask. “Pardon me, but I thought as ruler of this place, I would formally welcome you to Mindscape. You’ll be here for a long, long time.” The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t until his lights on his body lit up that I recognized him. The lights seemed to suck away from the dim panels, darkening this world further, and then his Kraakan lit up. “Makuta…” I gasped. His large grin confirmed my statement, and I immediately began running, expecting to be blasted down any moment, but Teridax just shouted “The Matoran are building a statue in honor of me; I would be very offended if you didn’t join!” I somehow knew it would be very bad if he was offended. --<>-- Eventually, I knew I had to stop running when I came to the aforementioned statue. Lightstones were just being added by the skilled Po-Matoran when a cloaked figure caught up to me. He quietly bid me follow him, and soon we found a small hut on the outskirts of the large city. My mysterious greeter took off his hood to reveal the Le-Matoran Teridax had killed. In a hurry, he quickly handed me a Toa stone and a new destiny to kill Teridax… ------ [*]The Fatal Forests Glatorian stalked through the undergrowth, weapons ready. On this sort of battlefield, it was only the most vigilant warriors that survived. Under the canopy of verdure there was low light penetration and guerilla warriors reigned supreme. About 100,000 years ago, the Shattering had split Spherus Magna into three major components. As everyone knew, nearly all Glatorian and Agori had ended up on the forest moon of Bota Magna. At first, things began to settle down as the villages realized what destruction they’d wrought with the Core War. Unfortunately, the foolish Skrall race had shown up, rampaging through the jungle and trying to claim an empire. It was like they thought they were still fighting on the Black Spike Mountains. War in a jungle was an entirely different matter. Rather than finding an empire, they found their forces veritably butchered by the Jungle Tribe. Claiming they’d adverted a crisis that would have been disastrous for all Tribes, the Jungle Tribe then took to rewarding themselves for their heroic actions by enslaving the entire Skrall race. This led to controversy. The Fire Tribe violently argued against the moral implications of enslaving defeated enemies and the Ice Tribe backed them, but for less ethical and more practical reasons: they thought the Jungle Tribe was plenty strong enough, already being in their element and the most populous Tribe. Shortly thereafter, the Water Tribe promised to ally with the Jungle Tribe. They had seen how easily the Jungle Tribe had annihilated the Skrall invaders and wanted to avoid confrontation with the Tribe that had done that. Bota Magna was hostile. Biomechanical dinosaurs ran rampant and lethally toxic creatures lurked in the shadows. But it had one redeeming quality that made war tantalizingly feasible: endless resources. Had this been Bara Magna down below, perhaps arenas would have been set up to avoid the massive resource expenditures of war, but Bota Magna was a jungle and resources were available everywhere one looked. Inevitably, the Tribes of Bota Magna reverted… and waged war once again. Biomechanical dinosaurs were trained and then sent out into large engagements as unstoppable powerhouses that devastated anything in their way. Villages were rooted out and razed to the ground. The jungle was lit ablaze time and time again by armies trying to drive back their enemies. Again and again the plants of the jungle burned and grew back in an incessant cycle of war-fueled ecological succession. Amidst this chaos, the Kanohi Ignika made its descent and the being known as Mata Nui rose from the crater. Around him were the charred remains of a dense jungle. Acrid smoke lazily drifted through the air and embers glowed. This was recent. “What happened here?” pondered Mata Nui. As an answer, a knife rose to his neck. Knowing his life was on the line, he made no attempt to move. “What’re you? A spy?” interrogated his unseen assailant. “No tribal marking that I can see… and your armor isn’t one of the tribal colors. Who are you?” “My name… is Mata Nui. I come from… very far away. And I have no idea what is going on here. Please show mercy.” What was once the ruler of a universe was now begging for mercy at the hands of a raw recruit on an alien planet. “I’m Gresh; you’re prisoner of the Jungle Tribe.” Gresh bound Mata Nui’s wrists with vine. Mata Nui would eventually realize saving his home would require ending a war. Impossible, they’d say… but no less impossible than overthrowing the Skrall Empire would be for another Mata Nui in an alternate universe.
  22. Vote here for your favorite Alternate Universe story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on June 7th at 11:59 PM EST. Entries that do well will move on to the Alternate Universe Final Poll, which will be posted at the conclusion of the 12th round preliminary poll.[*]Vakama’s Last Mistake “No, Vakama, don’t!” yelled Norik. And Vakama heeded the voice. “Why?” The spinner on his back cooled, suppressing his inner terror at the beast within. “That’s the same protodermis that you sealed the Makuta with. If you launch that, you’ll break that seal.” “Come on, Vakama.” “I won’t do this! I won’t doom my fellow Matoran to have to face him again!” Elemental spinners exploded forth from the other Toa, overloading the capacity of the stone, badly injuring Roodaka. The stone, still intact, was reduced to a smoking mass. Walking away from the injured Roodaka, the six Toa presented themselves in front of Keetongu, who returned them to their original forms. A minuscule portion of their energy sealed the Roodaka in a protodermis cage, giving her the same fate as her master. * * * “Please, Tahu. Listen to me. There is an island below – an island to which we must return.” Why did we leave there, anyway? “So now you tell me. Really Turaga, I don’t if I trust you anymore. You and your babblings about ‘Metru Nui’.” Vakama sighed. “Come with me, insolent Toa.” The six Turaga and six Toa showed up at the entrance of the tunnel. “Are you sure that this is the right one?” joked Onua. Whenua was sure he wasn’t the only one fighting a bitter taste in his mouth. If only we could give these beings something to fight, he mused. Then they wouldn’t be so annoying. * * * The six Toa Nuva arrived on Voya Nui. “Mighty quiet here” Lewa said. After a few miles of nothing but standard landscape, Tahu set fire to a nearby tree. Rain crashed down from the heavens, putting it out. “Tahu, knock it off! We are not destroyers!” “So what? This is just another dumb Turaga mission. Let’s see if we can find their pity prize before they get too agitated.” “Oh, right here” Pohatu guessed, sending a bunch of rocks cascading down to reveal a tunnel. “Easier than rolling off a Gukko bird.” Lewa commented. They charged down the tunnel, only to come face-to-face with a huge, winged titan. “Er, wrong way.” “Pohatu, can you blast us another route?” Pohatu tried his powers on the wall. No luck. “This is the right way. Obviously, this time it is a challenge” said Kopaka. He aimed an ice blast at the creature, trying to freeze it solid, but was merely met with a blast of shadow. “Er, let’s try that protocage power. That seemed to work for the Toa, back when, said Pohatu, dodging a shadow blast. Powers merged. Giant frozen. “Too easy” said Kopaka. * * * “All that talk of heroism, blah, blah, makes me sick.” hissed Tahu, holding up an Agori in disgust. “Knock it off.” “Mata Nui said-“ “I don’t care about Mata Nui. Something the Turaga made up to scare us at night.” A huge, giant colossus mandered into view, casually smashing the Toa of Fire to bits. * * * “Heremus, you should be proud of yourself. Your defense mechanism is eliminating the Toa threat.” “It’s best to be prepared for all contingencies.” Heremus smiled, going back to his creative musings. ------[*]The Cell The figure winked and vanished, leaving a rather disoriented Solek to take in his surroundings. At first glance he appeared to be in a stone cube- but after a few seconds a flash of yellow light appeared from one side, and he realized he was in a cell. “Are you sure you heard something?” A voice asked. “Positive.” A second being replied. “By Cell 4062-F.” Too confused at the moment to really be scared, Solek took a few wobbly steps over to the bars keeping him in the cell and grabbed on, pushing his mask against them in an attempt to see what was outside. “See? I told you!” The second voice said loudly. Solek flinched backward and raised one hand to shield his eyes as he found a torch suddenly swept across the bars, peeking out after a few seconds. “Why are you awake, up and about?!” Kopaka hissed at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Solek told him, confused. “Why am I here?” “Don’t you even dare try that nonsense!” Kopaka snarled. “You know why you’re in there!” “Where is here?” Solek asked. “Where is here?” Kopaka mimicked in a high pitched voice. “I swear Kopaka; I’m just a scared little Matoran! You have the wrong guy!” Solek shrank back towards the cell wall, flinching with each word Kopaka spoke. Why was the Toa speaking to him like this? Toa were supposed to be nice, not cruel. “Oh, are you scared, little Matoran?” Kopaka asked with mock sympathy, in the same high pitched voice. “Why don’t you run into Kopaka’s arms and everything will be all better!” The Matoran stumbled on something on the floor and fell, landing on a pile of rusty chains- using the torch light, Solek could see what enough to mummify a Matoran appeared. A lump of fear formed within him for the first time, and he scrambled back into the corner of the cell, away from Kopaka and the chains. “What do we have here?” Solek quickly lowered his head, staring at the cell floor as he heard the first voice, scared of what he would find. What if it wasn’t just Kopaka? What if this entire place was crazy? “We have him, Chirox.” He heard Kopaka respond. Solek’s eyes darted up- no, Kopaka would never work with a Makuta.... “Free from his shackles, eh?” Chirox chuckled. “Perhaps his turn comes sooner than I believed.” “M-my t-turn for what?” Solek couldn’t resist asking, hating the tremor within his voice. “My little Matoran, you simply must not toy with me!” Chirox laughed again. “The vat, of course. Perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll be the first to not suffer hours of agony before passing.” Solek jerked up, his mouth open to beg for mercy; before he realized that the cell was gone. “I-I don’t....” he trailed off, turning. The figure grinned at him, his smile eerie after what Solek had just witnessed. “Gotcha out just in time didn’t I?” the figure said. “Ain’t that just dandy? Almost missed ya, too- nearly got yourself boiled!” Solek shivered, glaring at the figure. “You said it would be better.” “I did say better!” the figure laughed, activating his Olmak once again. “Never said better for you, kid- it was better for me! Man, you shoulda seen the look on your face!” “What-” “Anywho, maybe you’ll like this place more. Have fun!” The figure winked at him again, and vanished. Solek closed his eyes tightly; afraid of what he might see. ------[*]Necessary A single Matoran walked in an alleyway in Ta-Metru, heading for his home. He preferred to take a more direct route, but he had to be wary of the Vahki. He had been travelling when he should have worked. He couldn’t help it. He was just a curious Matoran. His thoughts where interrupted as he entered a slightly wider, but deserted, street. In a flash of light, a ragged portal had appeared in space. Just as he registered it, it began to shrink. He couldn’t help it. He was just a curious Matoran. On the other side, he found he was in the exact same place. He looked down at himself. His armor was in place; everything was normal. Well. That was exciting. He continued on his way, thinking about what had just happened. He was so distracted he bumped right into a Vahki. The Nuurakh barely looked at him. He began to talk, making excuses as he went. The Vahki simply began to walk past. It didn’t look like it recognized him, or was aware he should be at work. That’s crazy. All these Vahki know to look out for me. Even so, the machine kept walking. Deciding this was just his lucky day, he just continued to walk. When he got to his location, he almost wished the Nuurakh had apprehended him. His home wasn’t there. The space it had occupied wasn’t empty, or deserted, it just didn’t exist. The dwellings that had been at its sides were there, but there wasn’t anything separating them anymore. He was bewildered. He began to have an idea of where he was. He had walked into an alternate universe. He looked all around him. Everything was fine. Everything was working. The only thing missing from this universe was him. The Nuurakh hadn’t recognized him because he didn’t exist. He hadn’t been reprimanded for ignoring his work, because in this world, he had never done that. Come to think of it, Ta-Metru might be more productive without me. Even his usual careless demeanor couldn’t dissipate the truth he had uncovered. He was not necessary. He could disappear from his world, and nothing bad would happen. He also realized that disappearing was exactly what he had done. He had no way of going back. It didn’t even make a difference, for as he had just learned, he did not matter. Ta-Metru would just go on existing. He refused to be thrown away so simply. He knew now that Ta-Metru didn’t need him, that what he did or didn’t do had no effect. But he could not give up. He would leave Metru Nui, go on to other lands where his presence may be more natural, and he would work his best to make a difference. He would become an asset. He would help this new world. ** From the records of the Chronicler of Mata Nui: We don’t know what to do anymore. The village is assaulted by Rahi almost daily. We have held out as long as possible, but we need help. The Turaga tell us that the stars talk of a distortion in our world. Someone is missing. We expected the arrival of the Toa years ago. The legendary Toa of Light was to come to us soon afterwards. None of them are here. The Turaga say that the Toa Stones, Mask of Light and other tools necessary are here, but nobody who has tried to retrieve them has succeeded. Now the stars talk of the Great Spirit’s demise. We are scared. We only wish we had what was necessary. -------[*]For Lack of a Chisel For lack of a chisel... "Take this Copper Mask of Victory," Turaga Onewa said, "crafted in the shape of my own. It is the greatest honor Po-Koro can give. May it bring you good fortune in your travels." Takua accepted it with pleasure. Takua was lost... Takua frantically dug through his bag, searching for something, anything, that could save him. The insectoid things were coming closer... The flute? The heatstone? One by one, every item he owned was discarded, while the strange creatures grew nearer, and nearer... He held the Copper Komau in his hand for a moment, gazing at it. Then he flung it away. Mask of Victory, indeed...he thought, leaning despairingly against the pedestal. Absolutely useless. His mind traveled back longingly to the gnomon he had once carried. Something pointy might have fitted into that space in the pedestal... Then the swarm was upon him, and he knew no more. For lack of Takua... The Great Kolhii Tournament began, with Hewkii and Hafu representing Po-Koro, Hahli and Maku from Ga-Koro, and Matoro and Kopeke from Ko-Koro - the three best teams on Mata Nui. In the stands Jaller watched glumly, a spectator. Yet again, he wished Takua had lived. Maybe if he had been Jaller's teammate... And then the Shadow fell across the Stadium... the island was lost... Pohatu was surrounded. He didn't think he would make it this time. He had been on the move, running, fighting, since the night of the Tournament. The night the Rahkshi came. There had seemed to be hundreds of them as they swept down over the field, blotting out the stars. Kraata, jumping on masks and bodies. Corrupting, enslaving... One by one, they had all fallen, until Pohatu alone fought the darkness But how, he thought, could one fight darkness without light? Now, even as he fought, a kraata leapt upon him. for lack of the island... Makuta surveyed his realm, and was well pleased. He called the Toa Nuva to him, and they came. He smiled upon them "Go, my heroes," he commanded them. "It is time to fulfill your destiny." Mata Nui was lost... Mindlessly, the Toa Nuva fed their energies into the lightstones of the Codrex. They did not know of the Av-Matoran outside their enclosure. Nor did they know that they were bringing into being massive energy storms, which would be the destruction of those Matoran - and of them. But if they had known, they would not have cared. The great robot rose from the depths of the endless ocean. And its eyes were red. for lack of Mata Nui... Makuta laughed as he felt his power. This was even greater than he had dreamed. Within his body and without, his power was limitless. He looked at the stars, with the eye of a conquerer. Spherus Magna was lost... Raanu groaned to himself. Only a week ago, the Skrall had conquered Vulcanus. Now its former leader was rebuilding their defenses, for the benefit of their conquerers. I would welcome an invasion, he thought bitterly, if anyone could conquer the Skrall. Our lot can hardly get worse. But it could, as he was shortly to discover. The rule of the Great Makuta, when he found his way to Bara Magna, would be worse than even the Skrall could imagine. And all for lack of a Po-Koro chisel. -------[*]The Toa and His Reflection The glimmering silver pool sat central in the ancient chamber. Only one even knew of its existence on the small island. He was a Toa, the conqueror of his world, a ruler with an army so strong that none would ever think to stand against him. This world was his... but he wanted more, much more. There was nothing left to conquer in his land. But through the silver pool, he could see something different. It was a world like his, only there was peace, no one ruled over them, there was a void that could be filled. He wanted to reach through, into this other world, and seize it in his grasp, rule it as his own. They wouldn't be expecting it, never know what they were dealing with when he entered into their peace and shattered it under his heel. But always when he looked into the pool, he would see another being staring back. It was himself, but different. He looked less menacing, less terrifying. He looked weak. He tried touching the pool, seeing that the other did the same. Then a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps it crossed the mind of the other him at the same time, he expected that it did. He would plunge into the pool, coming out on the other side, where he would conquer their world for his own. He would become the king of a second universe. They would learn to fear the name of Shoxip as their word crumbled around them. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and saw as the other him did the same. They were going to swap worlds with each other it seemed. But he wasn't thinking of that, he was only thinking of the power he would gain within his new kingdom. Maybe another Nui-Stone? He would enjoy having a second, it would make him far more powerful than he could even imagine. The thought made him smile inwardly. He would be beyond comprehension in his strength, and then perhaps find another world, where he would find more. With a grin, the Toa with dreams of power beyond even the Great Spirit's jumped into the silvery pool, quickly sinking to the bottom. But there was nothing there, nothing but disorienting silver liquid. He couldn't find his way out. His power of flame did nothing at all the the dark clutches of the liquid, until his flaming spark of life finally faded away into the dark depths. The other Shoxip stood watching from his side of the pool. He had stopped himself moments before jumping in, when a thought crossed his mind. What if he was unable to fix the damage to that other world, what if all he was doing was letting a twisted version of himself into his world. Could he sentence his own world to ruin for merely the chance to save another? He found that he could not. With a sigh, he walked away from the pool. There was nothing he could do. The other him had leaped into the water, and not shown up in this world, or back in his own. Wherever the dark Shoxip was, Shoxip hoped that his dark counterpart would never again harm anyone again, as he had seen through his own silver pool many times before. The Emerald City of Gold --[/font][*]This was starting to get annoying. He was a Toa of Light, and he can’t even get to one location. Takanuva activated the Olmak and stepped through another dimensional rift.[/font] --[/font] He appeared in a large city. But it couldn’t be just a city. It had to be the center of a kingdom. It had a giant pyramid, or rather, a ziggurat, in what he assumed was the center of the metropolis.[/font] The sight astounded him. He was standing on solid protogold. Slightly underneath, he saw what looked like tiny veins running through in intricate patterns. He bent down and scratched the area. Suddenly, a pool of green appeared, and he heard an eerie moan. He looked at the green. It was almost like a crystal, but it was liquid. [/font]Since when is a crystal a liquid,[/font] he asked himself.[/font] He decided to make his way to the back alleys, and from there, he crept towards the center of the city.[/font] The odd thing was, he couldn’t see any signs of inhabitants.[/font] --[/font] Little did he know that the inhabitants were in their houses. Some looking out of their windows, they were afraid of the intruder.[/font] And then they got the holo-message.[/font] --[/font] Almost to the ancient-looking step pyramid, Takanuva started to grow weary. He felt like something was draining his energy. He almost thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep going. But he pushed on.[/font] He stopped to take a look at the ancient archetecture before him. He was now on one of the main streets, several bio wide. To his right were stone houses, in some of which he saw some movement of shadows. on his left were grass huts, also with movement in them. He looked behind him and noticed that the entire city looked like the sum of millenia of effort, and, what seemed to be the culmination of a very mathematial formula. The distance between the houses and huts, the slope of the road he was on, the angle of adjacent side roads, they all varied, like some sort of equation.[/font] He was almost to the pyramid. This, too, was very precise with its own measurements. As the day progressed, it seemed to an onlooker to follow the sun.[/font] Takanuva looked down and saw the emerald veins [/font]led[/font] to the step pyramid. He led his gaze to just the side of the ziggurat, expecting to see nothing out of place. He was surprised to see that the pyramid glowed with a green aura.[/font] He started up the golden staircase embedded into the side of the colossus, and stopped. Now it didn’t feel as if he was out of energy. In fact, he felt invigorated.[/font] --[/font] At the top of the pyramid, he looked down and saw all of the inhabitants at the bottom, amassed in a crowd, bowing down to him.[/font] “Why do you bow to me,” he asked. “Who do you think I am?”[/font] “My Lord,” said a being, most likely the elder of the village, “You are a light-bearer, and have made your way to the top of the Pyramid of Light.”[/font] The entire crowd gasped when he disappeared in a sudden flash of white.[/font] Takanuva was now in Karda Nui.[/font]
  23. Vote here for your favorite Alternate Universe story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on June 7th at 11:59 PM EST. Entries that do well will move on to the Alternate Universe Final Poll, which will be posted at the conclusion of the 12th round preliminary poll.[*]Alone with the Sea Nerynn, Toa of Light, sat alone on the beach, watching the sun sink beneath the crystal waves. The sea seemed to stretch on forever, rising and falling so calmly and gently, yet it possessed within its twinkling depths power enough to sink the mightiest vessel or erode the greatest mountain. It was a source of great comfort and joy for many, yet there were many more who cursed it and feared it above all things. A hundred years of pleasant seas could move its travellers to deep, emphatic love for its magnificent tides and crashing waves, yet a single day of stormy skies and violent waters could turn the deepest love to sudden fear and unbridled hate. One moment of nature turning against those grand and noble expectations and suddenly, they were different seas. No more were they kind or gentle or calming, nor would they ever be again. From such single instants, reputations built of centuries could crumble away, lost in an ocean of judgement and indignation. No good deed could ever restore what was lost, and even though great joy and happiness far in excess of the original pain may result from it, still forgiveness would not come. It was not enough that Nerynn had never hurt a single living creature since that day. It was not enough that he vowed to rebuild all that was lost in the battles and the war. Should the Great Spirit himself descend and approve his choice, that would not be enough. A Toa's code is simple. They do not kill. He had broken it only once, but the effects were felt the universe over. In the aftermath, every Toa and every Turaga had scorned him, branded him outcast. Many of them he had considered friends. He had given aid to all those who needed it, protected countless people from terrible threats. But by a single action he was lost to them all. So here he was, alone on a tiny island with no company but the sea. He stared at it intently, imagining each splinter of light, each fraction of a reflection, was a possible life where things were different. A life where he was not outcast. A life where he had chosen to imprison rather than kill Teridax. A life where the Mask of Light had never come to him at all. But in the end, reality was as it was. When Nerynn had seen the full machinations of Teridax's plan, he knew he had no choice. The Makuta could never be imprisoned nor dissuaded from his course. So, when the opportunity had presented itself, he had taken it. He knew with a certainty he could not explain that what he had done was right. He knew, also, that it had been the will of the Great Spirit. Nerynn had saved the life of the Great Spirit and spared the universe from a terrible, unfathomable darkness. If even the first part of the plan had come to be, doom would surely have followed. The final glimmers of light vanished, leaving only the gentle sound of the waves and the spray as they collided softly against the shore. Nerynn curled up on the sand, content with his own satisfaction. In many ways, this was better. He did not need to explain or justify himself to his fellow Toa, nor suffer their glares and whispers and accusations behind his back. He was alone with the sea. The endless, ever-changing ocean of infinite possibilities. That was all he could ever need. -------[*]Ruin “We’ve done it all wrong, Orkham.” The being that was once an emerald-clad Toa looked over to him with tired, red eyes, as if grateful for having a distraction from the scene before them. “Did the great spirit really mean for us to be Toa?” Nuhrii continued, shaking his head with slow remorse as he did. “If he did, could he have seen it all coming?” “Our actions are our own, Nuhrii.” Orkham quietly muttered, but that was a hard jab at Nuhrii’s hart. Our own. A dozen images flashed through his head, and he grimaced hard. Was it all their own doing? His own doing? “Is this where our destiny truly is?” Nuhrii was choked up at the base of his throat. He had no reflection near enough to look upon himself. Perhaps that was for the best. Instead he only looked at his hands, once the hands of a crafter. Then the hands of a hero. Now the hands of a monster. “Matoran bodies still lay dead in Po-Metru. We could not prevent it. More lie in the flooded depths of this chasm, alongside the dust that was once our sixth brother.” Orkham had no real response, and Nuhrii wasn’t truly looking for one. He only gazed out down into the dark depths ahead of them, clenching his fists as images flashed by in his mind. The massacre at the assembler’s village would never leave him, not until the day he died. Neither would thoughts of Ehrye, hit by spinner after spinner until his very body crumbled to dust. He was the first Nuhrii led to death. How many more would follow the same path? At this point, Orkham was the only one Nuhrii truly still had to lead anyway. In the lowest depths of the ruined archives, Tehutti sat with his great hammer, awaiting the slightest indication of an oncoming horde. He couldn’t speak Matoran anymore. Vhisola still could, though all she did was ramble madly as she wandered the shattered exhibits. Ahkmou was silent, though he most like had a great grasp of his mind than the other two. He wandered off alone most of the time, probably looking for Visorak to hunt. “You can’t give up hope.” That voice wasn’t Orkham’s, it was Pouks. The deformed little figure hopped up to where the two former heroes stood, his voice weak from recent wounds. Nuhrii laughed. A cold, hollow, humourless laugh. He turned on the Rahaga, shaking his head, and then turned from bitter remorse to a flicker of rage. “Look at me!” Pouks did. All three knew what he saw. Nuhrii was no longer a Toa. He was no longer a hero. He couldn’t even claim to being a defender of the sleeping Matoran anymore, for only most of them lay safe in the archives beneath, and most was not good enough for Nuhrii.. He was Hordika. “Hope...what do I have left to hope for?” -------[*]Frosting ••••• Vezon fell through the dimensional hole. Instead of gracefully planting his feet into the snow, he face-planted into it. He immediately began to slurp it up. Then he realized that it wasn’t snow, it was... sweet. Smooth. Even though he had no idea what it was, he kept slurping away. Then, once he had been sufficiently filled, the half-Skakdi stood and looked around himself. There was still plenty of the stuff, covering the mountains like it really was snow. The mountain itself, which he could feel now that he had eaten quite a bit of the substance, was squishy and porous. Shrugging, he dug some up, and popped it into his mouth. Again, sweet. Squishy. Delicious. He licked his lips and began trudging forth. He seemed to be in some kind of land of food... that looked exactly like Mt. Ihu. Interesting. The squishy white substance came down from the sky in little drops, coating everything. It was certainly stickier than snow, aside from being extremely delicious. Oh, there was Ko-Koro. Maybe the Matoran there could explain the odd weather. He liked it, but it would take forever to lick himself clean once he got out of it. When he got to the village, he saw the citizens going about their work... and they were all brown, as he saw if one scraped off the sticky substance. He walked up and, not saying anything, bit the head off one. Ignoring the ensuing panic, Vezon leaned against a red and white striped pole. Sweet, crunchy, with a little spice. This was definitely an interesting universe. He wondered what he would taste like, if he met himself. Shrugging, he strolled right on down the mountain, ignoring the screams and attacks. After all, the spears were made of something that broke rather easily and tasted quite delicious. The points were sharp, though they seemed to just be a hard version of the sticky stuff. Soon, he was on the Mangai. It was tightly packed, but once he hit it enough, the substance was very crumbly and bitter. Yet, it tasted good. Shrugging again, he continued. When he reached the river of lava... he dove in. Five seconds later, he was out of it, screaming in agony. His face, tongue, eyes, and everything else burned. Whatever it was spicy. Good, but spicy. This was a very strange dimension. Shrugging once more, he continued trekking on his merry way, tears still pouring from happiness and utter pain. ------[*]Fallen Brother His claws catching the Dark Hunter’s tools in a swipe, Onua lunged forward, pushing the heavy mercenary further into the crowd battling around them. The Toa of Earth threw his elbow into the Hunter’s chest, whom rolled onto the ground, winded by the Pakari- aided blow. A kick of Po-Metru dirt momentarily blinded him, but his acute senses allowed Onua to lash out with a kick. The satisfying feeling of a chestplate being kicked in, he thought as he gained the upper hand once more. The Hunter’s raw strength piled into him, and Onua went flying at a statue. Snagging his claws into the stone, he returned his opponent’s force, flying back at him. Enraged and in the heat of battle, the Toa of Earth allowed the momentum to be his excuse to slash his enemy’s face. He leapt off, to the ground, and so the blunt battle between the two continued. He absorbed each crushing punch that made contact with his chipped and dented armor, but not even his Pakari would help Onua overcome the blow that bothered him for millennia. Even if this fight was won, he had still lost the ultimate battle. The war that raged around him did not matter nearly as much as the argument years before. So many disasters could’ve been avoided if we’d just listened to Tahu, Onua told himself time and time again. I might be a key fighter, but they could’ve still won this war without me, or what others remain. It was a mistake, attempting to leave Karda Nui with the Av-Matoran when the storms started. Lewa was the one who rallied for it, and he died as the result; there was not a day when Onua wish he sided with Tahu and Kopaka, no hour in which bitter regret didn’t plague his being. Sure, the remaining five of them were legendary in stopping the League of Six Kingdoms, but it was not worth the death of the high spirited Toa of Air, nor Helryx’s rage upon hearing they defied orders. The Toa Mata aren’t the same without the six of us. Even despite telling himself it was an accident, the Toa of Earth couldn’t brush the dirt off his conscious from the recent disaster that led to Lhikan’s and Nidhiki’s deaths. Another reminder we aren’t meant to be here. Our actions could’ve been averted with our absence. The Dark Hunter tripped over him as Onua ducked under his charge. He ripped open a chasm, sending his enemy deep into the earth, but the Hunter dug his tools deep into the walls. Evading elemental attacks, he climbed out with a smirk, as to tell the earth Toa he would have to be better than that to beat him. The sounds of battle had taken much out of him. His acute senses let him hear the sharp clang of blade on blade, the cannon blast, punctuated cries of his brothers and sisters as they fought around him. The brightness of the sunny canyon in which the battle was fought hurt his eyes- he was an earth dweller, not an open fighter. Onua was not outclassed, but confidence was the key. It was who finished with the most powerful blow, not who started, they both knew, and in that furious clash, Onua had let millennia catch up with him. No matter what happened, he knew which way this fight was going. Allowing the Dark Hunter the final blow, the Toa of Earth slipped into a sleep that he wish he took long ago. -------[*]Arrival A cylindrical object washed upon a deserted shore. Despite the signs that it had been adrift for many years, its hull gleamed a bright silver in the cheery sunlight. A few birds darted from their trees, curious as to what the new arrival was. One in particular was especially daring, and settled itself upon the strange object. After a moment of deliberation, its head ducked down in a pecking motion, making a considerable noise on impact. The sound rang throughout the air, a signal to all that lived on the island that its heroes had finally arri- Something inside the canister began screaming, initially out of frustration and eventually out of simple rage. The birds, startled by loud noise, retreated back to their trees to observe from a safer distance. After a few minutes, the voice fell silent. The beach seemed strangely quiet in its absence, as if everything on it was waiting with bated breath for what would happen next. They didn’t have to wait long. Blows began to sound out from the canister, with each growing increasingly louder as whatever was trapped inside grew more desperate to be free. The bangs and crashes unnerved the Rahi; they were accustomed to the peaceful sounds of the island, and this strange object and whatever creature it contained had shattered that peace. Suddenly, a hand burst through the side of the canister. Crimson blood ran down its length, and its owner howled in pain. Flames began to escape from the canister, somehow in response to the creature inside. The nearby Rahi all fled, wanting nothing to do with this strange monster that could create fire in response to being injured. Even in their primitive minds, they had plans that didn’t involve being roasted alive because their curiosity got the better of them. Eventually, the creature worked its way out of its prison. It stood tall, its crimson and orange body covered in numerous wounds and of unmistakably masculine design. In its eyes was the rage of a savage animal intent on destroying anything and everything that crossed its path. Gripped tightly in its right hand was a blade seemingly composed of fire, the flames flickering in a way that made it seem like they craved for destruction. The being looked down at his sword, as if hearing the voice of his weapon and its cry for devastation. Slowly, the sword was pointed at the nearby forest. The trees themselves seemed to shy away from the spectacle, as if they knew what was about to happen and wished to somehow wished to escape their fate. Unfortunately, they had no chance for escape; a pillar of fire quickly shot out from the sword and began to consume everything that stood before the being of fire and destruction. And then the creature screamed. It screamed and screamed and screamed. It screamed out of rage, despair, frustration, loneliness, and finally as a challenge to the rest of the island. “Just try to destroy me as well,” its scream seemed to say. It had nothing save the impulse to destroy, the desire to burn. It was meant to be one of the saviors of the island, tasked with the duty of liberating the villagers from an oppressive dark force. Instead, it was a monster. The Toa of Fire had finally arrived. -------[*]Vezon's Utopia Vezon was just about as happy as he ever could be. For one thing, he was flying through a void. Voids always excited him. They were there, but yet they weren't really anywhere. Plus, they were just lovely little things. Vworp, there's a void, then vworp again, you're not there anymore. Easy transport. For another, he had a mask attached to his face. To be honest, he was kind of missing a mask stuck to his face. The Ignika had been there for a while, but then it got ripped away, then he got this lovely Olmak, which he liked because he could actually do something with it. The Ignika just sat there doing nothing. He couldn't finish thinking up and listing out what all he liked about flying between two dimensions and two eternities when, all of a sudden, he had reached the other side, plopping down unreasonably hard upon what looked at first glance to be soft and lush grass. A swarm of fireflyers rushed out around him, surrounding his face. To Vezon's surprise, every individual fireflyer featured none other than his smiling face. "Ooh, this is a big'n. Nice and thick for the barbecue," one said. "Yeah, but he's got that thing in his head. Looks like a cookie," another chimed in. "I wonder if it's a lemon." "I like pancakes," muttered another. "'Scuse me, little ones, but I don't suppose you're fans? Just remember that autographs are five widgets each," Vezon said. "Oh, except for Vezok's spine. That I would pay you to let me sign." "It speaks!" "You mean it's alive?" "Are we going to have pancakes or not?" The swarm of Vezon fireflyers was in disarray. Mentally discombobulated as ever, Vezon ambled off into the nearby city. He entered the main street and found that he fit right in, for every single living thing, regardless of species, was in his image. Everywhere he looked, there were copies of his visage. Vezon worked his way to the town center, where a disorienting and downright bizarre sculpture dominated the foreground. Though Vezon was insane, he was still cunning, albeit in a twisted way. Using his Olmak powers, he opened a portal and sucked away the statue. All of the Vezons in the city focused their attention on this newcomer and his powerful abilities. This was the beginning of something excellent. *** "What is it?" Jaller asked. "I have no idea," Nuparu responded. "It looks like ... well, I don't know what it looks like, really." Jaller nodded. "It kind of looks like something that Vezon would make if he had a bunch of free time," he said after a while. Nuparu's eyes got narrower as he smirked slightly. "Somehow, I think you may be right." Behind them, unheard and unseen, a group of fireflyers swarmed out of a dimensional hole, one of them muttering something about pancakes. *** Vezon could get used to this. He had successfully convinced the inhabitants of the city to let him become their ruler, as he had abilities no one else did. He became their ruler years ago, and every day since then had been filled with sitting on his opulent but chaotic-looking throne, ordering his subjects around incoherently, and occasionally sucking up things or subjects in order to send them off into another dimension. The first living thing he did that in his rule was to those unruly fireflyers, and its novelty hadn't yet worn off. He had indeed gotten used to it, but somewhere within the warped and twisted corridors of his mind, he decided that he'd never grow tired of it. And if he did, he was only a wish away from the next universe over.
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