Perp

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi She nodded politely at Rynekk as he approached, the corners of her mouth upturned in yet another thankful smile - quite a record she was setting today for those. Another Sentinel now occupying Kale’s attention, she turned toward the Fe-Toa and addressed him quietly. “Pardon, sir. Looks like ye have yer hands full and I don’t wish t’ take up too much o’ yer time. I can go abovedecks and make myself useful there if ye’d oblige.” ___ __ _ IC: Jokaro - Po-Koro, Technology Emporium He found it to be more of an annoyance to find a pristine launcher in the Emporium’s stocks than he’d have liked - diskette weaponry made up the bulk of their armory, with patero in various states of wear either in need of repair or ready for pickup by a customer who’d requested maintenance or had just put one on hold. Indeed, several launchers were in perfect condition, but by the third launcher Jokaro had selected that he had discovered was already claimed, he became aggravated enough to just disregard protocol and made a mental note to replace the launcher labeled ‘reserved’ that he’d ended up pilfering with another later when he wasn’t busy. That mental note was almost immediately discarded when he made it back to his workbench. It was another monotonous half-hour as he meticulously disassembled the launcher down to its smallest parts, all sitting neatly laid out on the bench in front of him. He took a moment to admire the relative simplicity of the device - certainly more simple than the diskette launchers the Fa-Matoran working some distance away was responsible for the creation of. He’d never have guessed that, after having violently pried one of those diskette pistols apart, that it fired by - Ah, but here he was zoning out again. Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts of ludicrous engineering and replacing it with that of his own speculative designs, he began to carefully measure certain parts of the patero, joining them together with the others that they fitted with in an irregular order, creating several clumps of the various systems that comprised the launcher - air bladder, pump, trigger, gas seal. He discarded the barrel entirely, as Farzan was already hard at work on that sensitive little number. Drawing up a few more notes, and doing some quick arithmetic in his already-crowded notebook - which was chock full of preliminary sketches of certain improvements he’d conjured within his travel-weary brain during the long trek down the eastern half of the island - he began to work out the modifications to these disparate mechanisms so that they would fit together properly in his idealized reconfiguration. The main housing was the obvious place to begin. The air bladder itself needed no modification, but the metal body it sat within would need a few grooves, holes, and mounting points moved around and resized. First and foremost was the gas seal’s mounting point, which he had to cut out of the housing and re-weld slightly lower than where it originally sat. After that would be the modifications to the underside of the housing to accommodate the new positions of the trigger mechanism and the pump. Last up was the new mounting bracket for the barrel and the pump - the handle of which he was to redesign entirely. Those wooden components, and the rest of the furniture, would come after he was certain the crucial mechanisms were in working order, however. Bracing himself for another several hours of gruelling work, he donned a set of goggles from a drawer in his bench, picked up his tools, and began.

ayo ready for titanfall

IC: Safina - Near Ko-Wahi Dark Walk entrance The winds finally died down a bit as the Lieutenant gave his assessment and disseminated his orders. Safina made sure to straighten her back as he addressed her specifically; his words to which she nodded curtly, before he continued in his inquiry around collapsing the tunnels. Having finished assigning placements in the formation, she replied to the Lieutenant simply with “Ready,” before backing out of the circle of those assembled and starting towards her nearby Exo-Matoran.

leave him alone he's clearly suffering from phantom plimb syndrome

IC: Gorro - Le-Koro The young Cy-Toa stumbled out of the doorway of the Cackling Kewa Restaurant, just barely catching himself and remaining on his feet. Losing your balance could prove fatal in Le-Koro, especially in the lesser-regarded outskirts, with all its poorly-maintained guardrails and opportunistic, hungry-eyed miscreants. Such a small, out-of-the-way platform was where the restaurant was located, and in its doorway stood the owner. “I dun wanna spy-see you ever again near me restaurant, you slow-thinkin’ ######! Now make like a leaf-runner! Get!” Gorro had never seen a treespeaking Skakdi before, but anything goes in Le-Koro, as was often said. The door slammed behind him as the establishment’s proprietor finished throwing him out. The Toa of Crystal didn’t blame him for being angry, it was just another job he’d messed up. He tried not to blame himself, but there really was no excuse for dropping that many dishes on the ground when trying to wash and store them. Even if it was all accidental, what would he tell the guy? That he was being distracted by nightmares? No, better to just leave and move on. Mơve o̴n͜...̷ Maybe that was the problem - Le-Koro was a place for a lot of people. A haven, even, if you needed to disappear. Lot of people from Xa-Koro frequented this town too, and when the latter had gone beneath the waves… B̴̧̛e̕ń̴ȩ̷a̢͡͠t͢͠͡h ̵th҉͘͠e͡ w͢a͘v̢é̴̛s͞͠.͠.͏́. Sometimes, you just gotta pick yourself up and leave it all behind. A lot of his friends had done that. Those that remained didn’t really have much time for his company anymore - either busying themselves with legitimate work or fallen in with less savory types. Gorro wanted none of that life. He knew that with his luck, he wouldn’t last a week before he’d have more holes in him than an Onu-Koronan mineshaft. Ǫ̵͜n̨ų̧̛͜͠-͘͢͜Ḱo̡̨͝r͘͜͡o̵̸.͢͞҉̧.̵̡͏.̢́ He braced his hands against the guardrail lining the edge of a platform before retracting them quickly after a creak reminded him of what quarter of the city he was in. Retrieving his flask from beneath the folds of his ragged cloak, he took a quick swig of tea, noting the odd, slightly salty taste of the contents. How long was it since he’d refilled the thing? Couldn’t have been before yesterday. He dumped the rest out over the edge of the platform, watching it trickle out and join the rest of the marshy terrain below. An hour later, he’d rode the elevator down to that same jungle floor, trudging carefully upon the path that travelers had worn through the thicket, where rahi rarely tread. It was only a short walk to the rocky outcropping, totally obscured from the air, where vegetation and trees camouflaged it against the rest of the greenery. In its side was a wide, black aperture, the yellow din of lightstones revealing that it stretched onwards and downwards for mio and mio. A sign, propped up between a few craggy stones flanking the cave entrance, read: ‘Onu-Ta-Le-Koro Subtransect.’ Beneath the faded lettering sat a guard from the Gukko Force, her spear retracted and her arms crisscrossing her chest. She wore a bored expression like she was born with it. Her partner, flanking the other side of the cave, waved the Toa of Crystal past without a word. Entering the cave felt like passing into another plane of reality. The sing-song chirping of birds, buzzing of insects and the constant flutter of greenery blowing in the wind faded behind him, the reverberations of their sound growing more distant as the light grew dimmer and dimmer, as the silence and darkness of the cave swallowed it all - and him. The only other sign of life inside was an Onu-Matoran perched atop his ussal mount, lightly snoring, though he started awake at Gorro’s footfalls, amplified by the weird acoustics of the rocky tunnel around them. He approached the cart trailing behind the beast of burden. “Mm, ‘s two widgets for a ride, friend.” His hands darting beneath his clothing once again, the Cy-Toa pulled two out of the three copper-centered coins he had and dropped them in the outstretched purple palm, which retracted and deposited its treasure in a similar pouch. Gorro couldn’t help but hear the c-clin-clink of a fair few more widgets than he had right about now - a comparable dragon’s hoard. “Where ya goin’?” “Onu-Koro, I guess.” “Hm. Climb in back, and we’ll be off…” he muttered, the same purple hand gesturing lazily to the rickety wooden cart behind him. Complying with his request, Gorro sat and noted that the seats were definitely not made for someone of his stature - the cart was a relic from a time before his, when far fewer Toa roamed the island of Mata Nui. Maybe if he was here then, and he alone, he’d be a hero to people, rather than a jester in rags. His hand idly slid into the coinpurse affixed to his belt, running his thumb over the last remaining widget there. Courage and Valor, were stamped the words upon metal - words he’d seen glinting in the sun time and time again, and felt far too little beneath his fingers. He withdrew his hand, a small, irregular crystal formed within his palm while out of sight, unconsciously but not uncommonly at the same time. His other hand felt for a chisel, and finding it, he got to work as the cart lurched forward and the skittering sound of crab legs upon stone droned out his carving. After many twists, turns and another hour of his day passing, they remained still in the tunnel, not a word exchanged between him and the crab driver. There needn’t be any, though. Gorro preferred the silence. Talking to people is a demanding, exhausting task, don’t you know? And still he carved, carved, carved… tik tik tik scrape... tik tik tik… Bit by bit the crystal took a new form, pieces hewn away by his tool and the structure subtly formed by his powers. He scarcely even needed to look down at it - his fingers probing over edges and corners, seeing the shape as it needed to be more completely than his eyes could. A while later, the chisel was holstered, and said eyes beheld a small, crystalline star as it was raised before them, held between thumb and forefinger. It shone with an ethereal energy intermittently, the lightstones lining the walls refracting through it and making it twinkle like it was the real thing. Gorro held it at arm's length, squinting his eyes and forcing the background of dark stone and pale yellow light to blur as it became a cloudless night sky encompassing his star. There he had it - his very own spirit star. He opened his eyes fully again and admired his creation, and then tossed it into the darkness trailing behind the cart. A stupid fantasy, but one that passed the time as they traversed beneath Ko-Wahi, headed north… N̤͔̠̱̩̗̟͔͔͒̐ͨȎ̯̘͉̆̎̒̚Ř͚̱̙̗̻̮̉͋̾T͚͉͉͙̹̭̪̓ͫ̈͒̚H̙̗͖͌ͩͬ̽̽̊ͮ̑̋.͕̦͓̞͕̔̿ͬ̉.̪̩̲͖ͭͦ̑ͣ͂̔̆ͪ̚.͖̺̘̖̪̩̦̄̅ͤ̿ͭͬ͑͋ Bracing his elbows on his knees, Gorro leaned forward and held his own head in his hands, eyes covered and his vision obscured by a darkness deeper than the one he already found him in. It didn’t take long for sleep to arrive. … … … He was drowning again. Breaking the surface, he only found the air harder to breathe than the water. It was thick, like syrup, and breathing it in burned his lungs until they filled fully, and the waves reclaimed him and he tried to scream her song was incredibly beautiful, a seductive melody spinning out through the v̱͚̱̩͕͚̘̎̂̉̆ͪͮ̽o͈̊͌̔ì̲̠̩͉͖͉͕̎̅̅̉̇d̪̝̭̥ͯ̓̊͂̂̚̚ where no one else could see for there were no eyes to see with. The void where all was nothing and everyone existed in peace and harmony. A place of quiet and mirth and knowledge and incredible beauty. Have I mentioned how beautiful you are? Yes? Well I’m glad I awaken upon the shore. The waves spill over me and freeze me in place as they bind my hands and wrists in unbreakable chains of seaweed and chitin. I look up and it shows you the way the world works. The writhing tendrils of thought and mercy that bring all its children together in a choir of emptiness! And beauty. Have I mentioned- The mist envelops him. He looks down and sees a crab scuttling at his feet. The crab looks delicious but he is scared and tells him that he is diseased and not good for eating. Perhaps he doesn’t care and is willing to risk it anyway. The crab exits its shell, which is not a shell but the mouth and head of a dead sea-bird. He grabs my hand, interlocking his fingers with my own, our connection sealed in blood now. We proceed down the path and look out at the world beyond. The world beyond the beach. Not outward but down. And to look down you must look up as it towers above you. A perfect, weathered Beauty. Have- You awaken upon a shore and he calls your name. They call your name. She calls your name. My god, her song is winding ever downwards into the ḥ͓͉̂̉̓̃e̬̽̓̋̾̌͋̊̒ã͎̠̫̞̋͂ͦv͎̣͖̭͕̯̘͖͍̌̐͛̉̐͐ͬ̈́͒e̗̥͈͍ͩͨͣͪn̹͇̻̪͉ͨͥ̾͑ that is blue, and just right for you! Look around and smell the perfume of the dead and dying. He slaughtered them all. You laugh, for there is nothing else to do. How quaint! The crab looks at you and asks you whether he will die too. You pick him up, gently - ever so gently. Bringing him close to your face so you can whisper in his ear. ‘Friend,’ you say Why die when you can play with the world? And you bare your razor teeth and the crab knows how much you h̲͈̫̾ͧ̏ͮ̆̈́ȕ̞̤̮̫͍̰̯̞͉͎͚͈͙͔̔̌͆̂ͯ̾ͣ̽ͦ́͋̔͗̋̒̚̚n͚̫̺̙͓̩͍͙̬ͩ̄̃͌̈́ͭ̆͌ͧg̜̤̳̱̹̼̮͖͈̞͇̯͎̭̅͆͊͗ͨͩ͆ͯ͒ͩ̈́͗͛̅̔̈ͅe͔̦̮̜̭̿̈́̽̾̉͊̍͊̎̂ͭͅr͚͇̠̭̖̖̘̘̟̱̘̭̼͙̪̬̬̱̾̈́̔̓ͤ̈͂ͮͧ̈́͆͐̋̃̋̇̆̌. But all the same open your mouth and you awaken U͓͍̺͉̭̬̙ͦ̄̅P̜̳͉̯̤̦͕̠̲̎ͬ̅̈́O̲̮͔̥̠̝̖͓̫̞̥̱͙̯ͣ͂̀̂̚̚N̰̱̝̻̦͓ͮ͊̉́ͬ̍ͦ̎ͫͫͩ̋͐̐̓ͦ̃ ̲̝͕̣̝̼̞̭͔̤̞̦̫͙̣̎̓ͭͥ͂͂A̭̥̬͈̝̜ͪ̏ͣ̀ͫͣͨͪ́̍̚ “We’re here, friend.” OOC: Gorro to Onu-Wahi

IC: Safina - Near Ko-Wahi Dark Walk entrance She let the Toa of Lightning - only just now recognizing her plus the one whose behalf she spoke on as members of the Toa Kalta - finish speaking before interjecting. “I will join you two at the front of the formation if you would oblige.” Turning to look at her Exo-Matoran, she extended a finger in its direction before continuing. “Can you see that device attached to the arm of the machine? That is the largest lightstone torch I could mount on it - it will still be curtailed by the shadows of the Dark Walk, but from what I can see among those gathered here, it is the greatest source of light in our possession.” She turned back to those assembled, her eyes darting between the Toa of Earth and Gravity proposed for point duty, the immediate death of the Skakdi in her previous expedition replaying in her head. “I would be remiss to point out that your armor, while surely strong, is not nearly as tough as that of my machine. One of the first things I was taught during my martial training was that one’s defenses are the most paramount to any battle - that lesson has kept me alive thus far.” She let a beat of silence play out before turning to the Highlander. “Your thoughts, Lieutenant?” OOC: @ARROW404 @Keeper of Kraata @Leaf

IC: Safina - Near Ko-Wahi Dark Walk entrance “Certainly,” she replied, drawing closer to the group, their numbers having increased, subsequently blocking more and more of the chill. She would have been out of the squall, striding down the underground highway towards Onu-Koro by now, had she not happened to mention the very experience she was to promptly recite, to the guardswoman outside the perimeter. However, fate had decided to take her on a different path this day, much like it had several months ago… “There were… let’s see if I can remember… around ten or eleven of us. Ten - yes, I remember. Myself, one Matoran plus his Ussal, a Vortixx and two Skakdi mercenaries… and five Toa. We met in Onu-Koro, at the time they were posting notices looking for extra help clearing the local Dark Walk of Rahkshi, and that’s what our group intended to do. We had a handful of lightstones between us, plus two of our number were Toa of Fire and Plasma, and they led us down into the depths first…” She glanced back over in the direction of the gaping black maw, now partially obscured by Sanctum and Highlander forces making ready for their own expedition. She continued, looking hard into the eyes of the Lieutenant: “That darkness will decimate the range of any source of light you bring into it. It… knows when it has you in its grasp. It burrows into your mind and- and tells you that you need to leave post-haste. It will drive a stake of fear deep into even the bravest of warriors. I can’t explain it any more than that. “Regarding the Rahkshi themselves, I also concur with the Bo-Toa here, as well as your own assessment, Lieutenant. Sending inexperienced warriors against Rahkshi is suicide. Of the ten my previous group entered the Dark Walk with, only seven of our number returned. Our mistake was fighting them at close-range - not that we had much of a choice. With the weak radiance of our lightstones, and the intermittent flares of our two guides, the Rahkshi descended upon us from shadowed corners of the passage we could scarcely see. One of the Skakdi was dead within seconds, and we had no time to make space between the assailants and the rest of our group. I and the Matoran were of little use compared to the rest of our number, and we were limited to striking at the beasts only from opportunities made possible by the other, stronger warriors dividing their attention. “The two Fe-Toa as well as the Onu-Toa among us provided the bulk of our strength, creating barriers and slowing the Rahkshi’s progress as we began to retreat back towards the entrance, though we were ambushed by another group of the beasts behind us, having either let us pass earlier or skirted around us through some unseen passage. One of the Fe-Toa was felled and we had to split our focus. The tech-sword of the Vortixx made short work of one of our ambushers, thankfully, and severing the limbs of the second allowed the Matoran and I an opportunity to strike at the kraata within its carapace. Finishing that task, we turned to find the second Skakdi nearly dead, impaled upon the weapon of a purple-clad Rahkshi, his last act to silence its ear-splitting screaming with the detonation of an explosive the sellsword was carrying. “The remainder, damaged by the explosion, we were able to kill much more easily, though ‘easily’ takes on a much different meaning when dealing with the sons of Makuta. Having caught our breath, three of us lay dead… and six Rahkshi. Only six…” Her voice grew weak, and she closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. When she opened them again, they settled on the Exo-Matoran nearby, a dark silhouette against the white expanse beyond. “I honestly cannot determine whether or not our actions were worth the loss of three lives. We returned up the Walk, the dead in tow - all of our dead. Upon our ascent, we estimated that we had only ventured down one-hundred to two-hundred bio before we were beset upon by Rahkshi. After returning to the city, the souls of our compatriots were commended to the care of the Great Spirit, and their bodies laid to rest. Our foes were given to the greater minds of Onu-Koro and recycled for a more noble purpose.” Her gaze swept back across the group of nine. “If the rumours about Makuta are true, and the Rahkshi have increased their cunning, I implore you - keep the non-adept in reserve. I will fight with you - and to a greater extent than last time I descended down that abyss, thanks to the machine currently in my possession - that is why I accepted it as a gift from Akiri Nuparu. But I cannot bear another needless slaughter, like those three poor souls we had to pull from the darkness among the litter of Rahkshi corpses. There is no room for foolhardiness against the forces of darkness.” She let out another breath - one she was unaware she was holding in, and looked to the Lieutenant once more, straightening her posture and hardening her tone. “That is all I have to say on the matter.” OOC: @Leaf

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi Her brow furrowed in confusion at the Krayn’s refusal of his title. Other Toa she’d met had never really disregarded their label of Hero-Protector when addressing them as such, but then again most of the time she had been referring to most of them as ‘Sir’, ‘Ma’am’, ‘Captain’, ‘Commander’, et cetera. It was just an odd day all around. But, if he didn’t want ‘Toa’ as his form of address, that was his desire. “Understood, Mister Krayn. Glad t'be aboard, I'll see about gettin' yer vessel ship-shape like a real mariner does.”

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi “Aye sir, ye’ll have no issue on that front with me, I assure ye.” She broke off the handshake as the other Toa approached from the small group consisting of the Fa-Toa who Kale had indicated was the Captain (she made a mental note) as well as him, and a few others she’d seen before, above deck. “Pleasure, Toa Krayn,” she began, taking his hand in yet another awkward Toa-Matoran handshake. “Sergeant Ember Velliae, formerly of th’ Ta-Koro Guard. Guess I ain’t retired anymore, suppose.”

IC: Safina - Near Ko-Wahi Dark Walk entrance “I’ve been down the Dark Walks once before,” she reported as she crossed from the lean-to over towards the assembled group, hearing the Lieutenant’s voice carrying over the howl of the wind. “Months ago. Bee-four back there-” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder “-was the result of that expedition. A guardswoman here asked me to relay my experience to you.” Coming to a stop near the five others, the Turaga of Stone re-folded her arms over her chest to brace against the chill. A heatstone would be a gift from Mata Nui right about now. “You’re going down there for a book?”

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi Reaching upward (handshakes between Matoran and Toa were always an awkward experience), she grasped Kale’s proffered hand, giving a firm shake. “I take it I’ll have tae be salutin’ ye-” was all she got out before a heavily-armed Fa-Toa appeared from belowdecks to address Kale.

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi You know, it was naught but yesterday that the old Ta-Matoran was lounging in a Ga-Koro plaza, book in hands, paying little mind to the goings-on of the world around her. Totally engrossed in a laughable print of fiction while the world’s stage shifted around her - just a woman past her prime letting whatever life she had left flow by. If someone’d relayed today’s events to her, she might’ve laughed. Either that or curse them out for a fool. She blinked once, taking in the Fe-Toa’s words and carefully considering them. Could be that she was the fool after all - the words ‘I’m retired’ caught up in her throat. Those words were the ones she considered next; something between an excuse and an automatic response. Why hadn’t she said them? She was too old to roll in with these people - legends she’d only heard about in passing and only met in the past twenty minutes or so. She couldn’t adventure with them. This was crazy. “Well…” she began, breaking her gaze away from Kale’s anticipating expression and taking in the footlockers in the compartment, spying his. “I did notice that some’a yer swabs abovedeck made fer loose riggin’ that’d never fly in Ga-Koro… and t’be honest, yer stone boys know more about sinkin’ than swimmin’, tell ye that.” She was stalling again. The words stuck in her throat again. Why couldn’t she just tell him ‘no’ like she should? … … … #### it. What did she have back in Ga-Koro anyway? Some ###### book and a bunch of fisherwomen busy fawning over the psychics, that’s what. “Couple weeks, ye said? Think that’s a fair trial period as any, aye. I’ll do it.”

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi Clearly, she had misheard him. Clearly. “...how would I like a what, now? Ye’ll have t’speak up, lad - me hearin’s not as good as t’once was.”

nobody attack khy;barr or else i'm telling the broker on you

IC: Jokaro - Po-Koro, Technology Emporium Without wasting any time, Jokaro retrieved his notebook from his pack, struggling to find a page that hadn’t already been marked up like the ceiling of the Emporium. Locating one, he hastily scribbled down some measurements whilst wondering how exactly the Fa-Matoran in present company had managed to vocalize parentheses. He capped off the plethora of numbers and diagrams with a note. ‘make sure I don’t get blown up again - J’ Tearing the page from the notebook and handing it off to Farzan, he returned his attention to the pile of parts that had previously been a viable weapon - now just another pile of junk to add to the uncountable piles that littered the Emporium workshops. Sighing, he left the other Matoran and Ussal to their task, while Jokaro searched their stock for an intact launcher.

IC: Ember - Ostia, interior of the Fowadi “Ah, guess it wasn’t a very apt quest’n anyway. Lad, I’m old. I’ve seen me fair share of strife, grief and Spirit-forsaken insanity o’er th’ years. Mata Nui’s fraught with it, t’be honest. But it ain’t anythin’ like what the lot of ye have seen.” The boards creaked around her as the ship gently rocked side-to-side on the calm waters of the Bay. Ember put her hand against the bulkhead and breathed deeply - there was no musk of an old ship, as she was used to. All, or at least most, of the wood was new, true to Kale’s comments about the refit rearranging the ship’s interior. “Guess I’m- what’s the word? Starstruck? Eh, sum’n like that. I came ‘ere today to look at a ship an’ daydream ‘bout the days when I was a wee lass, green as they come. Now I’m aboard that ship, talkin’ to a fair folk who cut their teeth fightin’ true evils. Ain’t every day that happens, Toa Kale.”

IC: Torana - Ta-Koro, outside the Magma Lounge Saeva’s shove broke her (admittedly) weak grapple, forcing Torana to disengage and make some space lest she spend some time laying on the cobblestones. She brought her arms back up to guard as she steadied her stance again. Well, this is certainly familiar. She waited for Saeva’s next move.

IC: Verakastian - Fortress Khy;Barr, the Foundries Standing a good distance away from the others, Verakastian watched the massive Warlord turn away from the assembled group and begin his grand exit. It was hard to imagine Arms doing anything that wasn’t automatically grand due to his stature. After a brief moment of looking between the four-armed behemoth and the assembled duo of Lesterin and the duo of Skak- Karz, he just said he wasn’t counting the skeleton! ... The singular Skakdi and that Nakihl abomination, he stormed off in a huff, eager to get away from his, er, compatriots? The word soured on his tongue and drove a stake of ice straight through his heart. He would have to keep vigilant now that Vana was unbound, and not to mention Dinsmokk’s apparent camaraderie with whatever-his-name-was with the accent (Verakastian could never determine what he was actually called because everything spewing from his mouth sounded like a handful of alphabet soup noodles tossed haphazardly into a pitcher of ale punctuated with the occasional consonant) or perhaps his biggest problem to fret over were those three imbeciles that he had working some of the most crucial equipment to his pinnacle of indus- His thoughts jumbled together into a tangled mess as he inadvertently hurried his pace into a light jog in an effort to get away from the odious trio that had all ambushed him here in his sanctuary at once. He was so distracted that he nearly bumped into Arms’ leg (what a weird couple of words to put together), but stopped himself short before doing so. Not that it would’ve mattered if he did - Arms was more likely to register his contact upon him like you would an insect upon your- “I’m so terribly sorry, my Lord, but if I may inquire… you know, as to where we are going? Or what we are setting out to do? Surely you don’t need my presence on your journey… right? I mean, there are so many things that need to be done here at Khy;Barr - so many things! I can scarcely count them all on my fingers, which, I suppose, would not be a problem for y- ahem, I digress! But I implore you, m’Lord, I am needed here if our operations are to prosper, and I must say these past few months they have been prospering - yes, indeed, prospering! For the Broker has secured twice as many shipments this year as compared to the last! A testament to my hard work, as you can see, and surely there must be better candidates to accompan-”

IC: Jokaro - Po-Koro, Technology Emporium “Yeah, fun,” he groaned as he accepted Farzan’s help up. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you were perforated by shrapnel right now.” Jokaro checked himself over - some parts of his hands and arms were bleeding where, indeed, shrapnel had hit him, but he was otherwise undamaged. Nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix. The patero, however… completely totalled, beyond fixing. Retrieving some bandages from his pack (good thing he brought it to the testing range), he managed to get the bleeding to stop well enough to begin retrieving the parts of the patero while he addressed Farzan. “Failed right at the breech,” he noted, pointing to the back-end of the barrel which had been peeled open and now more resembled a trumpet than a weapon component. “Fair to say we took off too much material and it couldn’t handle the pressure. Let me think for a moment…” His arms cradling the bits of junk that used to be a patero launcher, he nodded his head toward his pack lying on the ground - “Grab that, will ya?” - as the two Matoran and Ussal returned to the workshop. “I’d say we forget the original barrel diameter entirely. Let’s just- hrnk!” he dumped the pile of parts he was carrying unceremoniously next to his workbench, “-machine a new barrel. A smaller barrel - smaller bore diameter, smaller overall diameter. Reduce the mass that way. Of course, that means we’ll need to make some modifications to the launcher’s casing and gas seal itself, especially so if the trigger and pump are gonna be switched around. Which do you wanna tackle - barrel or casing?”

IC: Ember - Ostia, deck of the Fowadi Eyeing the chests, she scanned the names emblazoned on some of them - most names, Ember did not know - but a select few were obliquely familiar. For all her years, she hadn’t paid much attention to gossip and rumour, often preferring the official channels she was used to. “Tell me somethin’, Toa Kale, if yer willin’…” she began. “Ye seem like a good lad. I dun know much about ye - th’ ‘Gressors, I mean - besides th’ tales an’ escapades. As first mate, ye ought tae have fair assessment o’ yer fellae crewmates - ain’t every day ye get tae put faces tae the stories…”

They hunger.

IC: -̶̬̲̍͠-̸͓̼̓-̸̹́̉-̷͖̤͛̉-̸͈͐͂-̴͎͔̋-̷̨͎̀-̸͇͈̊-̷̞̊ Hollowed voices springing from nothingness; dripping, seeping from the void though ears and burrowing into the mind. Ice-cold sweat down your back, the salt dissolved within leaving its mark as it corroded all it touched. Falling deeper and deeper and deeper until day turned to dusk to the blackest midnight and the greatest home we’ve ever known embraces us in the tightest grip, squeezing the life from your limp body because it loves you. And you give it your heart in return. I will give and give until I have nothing left and we are all empty but for- T̵H̵E̷̽ ̵̈D̸͠EEP̷̆ C̸A̷L̵̄L̵S̸̒ ̷̾TO̶ ̴͝YO̷͊U̵͛ You awaken upon a shore, the grains of sand biting into your back because they are leeches, not grains of sand. Your mind has not come ashore and has drowned with- I have been here before. You will be here before and after. We call to you, our children, in your most sacred of temples. I have drowned yet still live. Look upon our seal and know that in the Time before the Time before Time it blessed us with its touch. Your touch. Our touch. Tendrils creeping along the periphery of the void, the veins beneath the skin pushing the essence of life into the womb of the world. Bathe in its waters and we shall You are turning around end over end as you struggle for direction. I am breathing. No. I put my hands out and the chilling depths interlock their digits with mine. We are one. The D̸͠EEP̷̆ C̸A̷L̵̄L̵S̸̒ ̷̾TO̶ You awaken upon a shore. The detritus covers you - the dead sea-squall wails in your mind as you pluck the weeds from your body. The coral has consumed your muscles and the beautiful sight of T̷̐H̶EIR̴ GR̵E̷A̴T̶N̷E̷SS towers above you. Colour seeps from the world as the ocean spray flash-freezes midair, framing the monolith in eerie refracted light. The seaweed dissolves to dust and the dust speaks to you. I am all that you are and everything that you will love, you say to yourself. The dust speaks to you: I C̴O̴N̶S̶U̴̇MÊ̷ There is nothing beside you now. Nothing above. Nothing below. Nothing adjacent. Nothing within. Nothing without. Without. Without anything. Without anything there is nothing. To see. Nothing to. Feel. Feeling tendrils ensnare you awaken upon a Can you see it? The grains of sand bite into your fingers for they are not grains of sand but burning bars of steel that ensnare you in the smallest cell that H̵E̴ I̴S Your jailor. The key. Release yourself. I release myself. I have no need of the key NO NEE̴D All I must do is consume of thee TAKE HEED It towers before me DEEP UNDER My eyes were closed but now I see WE HUNGER I they we hunger. WE HUNGER They hunger. You awaken upon a shore. IC: Gorro - Le-Koro He awoke upon his hammock, the coldest sweat he’d ever known coating every inch of his body - so cold that he shivered, drawing the sheets up to his chin and trying to retain whatever heat he could - but the sheets were too thin (Le-Wahi being notoriously humid) and his actions were in vain. He felt dizzy, and blinked his eyes to clear his vision, the dim light of his hut shading out details so that he struggled to get his bearings despite having lived here for the better part of three years. He turned his body over, trying to discern where the doorway was, and his shoulder slipped off the edge of the hammock, threatening to take the rest of his body with it. Nearly falling, he managed to maintain his balance at the last second, bracing his hand against the floor before slowly swinging his legs out of their resting position until they, too, touched the floor. He stood erect and stretched out his back, arms now above his head, in a single motion. It was only after the p-pp-p-p-op of his joints that he realized that his head was pounding, and his vision was blurred. There was no pain in his temples or behind his eyes as per a usual headache - curious - but his head throbbed and buzzed, as if there was a wild creature swimming around in his- THUNK Gorro became confused, a cold, hard pressure pushing against his left side - until he discovered that he had actually fallen over this time. Should he go see a doctor? Maybe some fresh air will help. He sat himself up, gangly limbs knotting their way into a cross-legged, arms akimbo position as he regained his sense of balance. He rubbed his eyes and his vision began to return. The throbbing in his head began to die down. The nightmare was a shattered collection of unconscious images and feelings now, as he had forgotten to remember it. Standing, the Toa of Crystal retrieved his flask, taking a long swig of tea. It tasted strange to his dry tongue, but it was yet another thought filed and shelved before it could even register. His fortitude returning, Gorro donned his cloak and exited into Le-Koro proper. Outside, the sun was high and the air was warm, the chill in his bones dissipating and the last holdouts of his affliction melting away in the sun. He strode through the throngs of locals and tourists, all tangled and intertwined and taking no notice of him, just another vagrant as was common here. Busy as ever. He stood at the precipice of the Koro’s main square. The voice told him: N̵̝͘͜͝Ő̴͓̟̿R̴̻̜͘T̶͚̈́̌H̷̦͚̑

It ain't rude at all to be curious or ask questions, so no worries there. You can PM Tyler, Ghosthands or Krayzikk anytime for any question; some might have more on their plate than others, but they'll get back to you all the same.

IC: ??? - ??? Some time ago. “Hey you! Are you sleeping? No? What are you doing?” “I’m relaxing.” “What, out here? In the middle of nowhere?” “I’m on vacation.” “Why not anywhere else? Try Le-Wahi.” “Too humid.” “Okay, then, why not Ga-Wahi-” “Too wet.” “Po-Wahi-” “Too dry.” “...Ko-” “Too cold.” “...And I guess Ta-Wahi is-” “Yeah.” “Well, it sounds like this island just wasn’t meant for you.” “...guess not.” The pain started in his leg again. Searing, burning pain. It slowly travelled up his prone body, festering in his ribs and making it hard to breathe. He broke out into a sweat. The sun above was baking him alive. “I hope you-” It began to spread again, seeping down into his arm. He dug his claws into the soil underneath them, ripping up cool sod and grass, desperate to keep that sensation flowing through his nerves from hand to brain, knowing that the pain would trace its way along the same path and scorch the earth behind it. “-find your place-” His arm was on fire. Ants crawling under the skin, the soil turned to ash and the grass to carbon. Nothing remained of the peace he had felt lying there, except for the cool sensation of the snow underneath his head, flakes gently settling on his brow. “-somewhere-” The pain flared anew in his head again, an ambush from where it had encamped itself in his arm. It was a great blaze, fuelled on by the supply lines throughout the rest of his body, flaring up and burning away memories. Its heat melted the snow keeping his head aloft, turning it to water and steam - the former drowning him, the latter scarring him. The snowflakes had become a torrential downpour. He screamed. “-in this world.” They would try to fit the pieces back together, but without knowing what the puzzle looked like to begin with, where would you even start? ___ __ _ IC: Baszlin - Ga-Wahi, shores of Naho Bay Now. He stared at his arm again. The lump of metal and servos and circuitry where there had previously been flesh and blood. Flesh, blood, and a cannon, powered by his body and triggered by his mind. Gone now, like so much else. The doctors in Ta-Koro had taken great care in trying to remove it, as well as the device in his brain responsible for its function, but whatever had grafted itself to his body made it part of his being, as well. They could not know this. When they tore these things from his body, they tore them from his being. Parts of his mind had gone with them. Whatever was left was fractured, like the myriad reflections of oneself in a cracked mirror. All the same image, but never whole. The rest of the damage to him was trivial. Puncture wounds healed, broken bones set. But whatever monster had made him his puppet, a creature in a pit to be jeered and bet upon… those wounds would never heal; and for the blood he - this monster - had taken, and made Baszlin take, the Skakdi would make him repay it all. But all he had was a face. No name, no place-of-residence, not even a finger taken as a trophy. Just a face. He’d find it. Whether or not the memories came back to him was irrelevant. He’d scour the whole of Mata Nui looking for him if he had to; where else could the Toa hide? Ah, right. There was the matter of that. He’d only spoken to a couple of other Skakdi recently, but he got all he needed to know from them. Memories of an ancient and brutal homeland, one of strife and death, ritual and culture. The Silver Jewel at the End-of-All-Worlds, they had called it. The crucible in which all Skakdi were forged - not born. Memories of Zakaz (what a nice title for a hit song, or show, or something sappy like that!) were returning to all Skakdi on Mata Nui, except for (presumably) one. FAN;GUURIK BAL KREK SKAK:DII No memories for this Skakdi. While not entirely true (he had tossed and turned in his sleep, dreaming of vague, blurred images of places he could not name but knew were Zakaz), something about his already fragmented memories also affected those of a previous life he didn’t even know he had - even BEFORE the amnesia that erased whatever life he had upon arriving on Mata Nui. It was all a god-d##### mess. The sooner he put it from his mind, the sooner he could get on with tracking down Green-Face. He hopped off the rock he’d been perched on, and picked up the shotgun where it lay in the sand nearby, slinging it over his shoulder. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore - only now registering to him after getting so deeply lost in thought (or memories, or dreams; it was hard to tell sometimes) - returned to his awareness. He began his trek towards Ga-Koro. OOC: Open for interaction

IC: Safina - Ko-Wahi Dark Walk perimeter “Mm, I see. Thank you, Guardswoman.” With that, Safina thumbed the hatch switch, once again sealing out the frigid gale of Ko-Wahi. She was led within the Sanctum Guard perimeter, presenting the symbol-bearing shard to another Guard within. She explained the situation and was pointed in the direction of a nearby lean-to while the Lieutenant was fetched. … A few minutes later, she sat outside her Exo-Matoran, hugging her arms close into her chest as she huddled in a corner of the lean-to, trying to retain whatever warmth remained within her body. She was about to ask a nearby Sanctum Guard for a hearthstone when another figure approached her.