Nuju Metru

IC: How Skorm managed to say so many words before the Abettor struck remains, even now, a mystery. My best guess is that the Vault's guardian had been so completely flabbergasted that it'd taken a few moments to be sure it'd heard Skorm correctly. For the Toa of Gravity had made a mistake that none of the Abettor's many visitors had yet been foolhardy enough to make: directly insulting the behemoth before them. If you ask me, the real mystery is how Skorm managed to keep his life. You see, the Abettor of Mata Nui had long ago devolved into a rather tetchy personality, probably due to minor deterioration related to its prodigious age. A late influx of visitors to its passage - all having come, from the Abettor's protracted point of view, in the all-too-recent past - had only served to exacerbate the behemoth's tetchiness... And the souring influence of Zaktan's Antidermis had hardly helped. A more professional and less overworked Abettor (the Abettor of Kentoku, for instance; you'll recall how neat it liked to keep its site) would've taken Skorm's little jibe in stride; the Abettor of Mata Nui, though, had been worn thin of late, and was in no mood to suffer insults from a Toa whose eyes hardly reached its elbows. "You have called us a brute," the Abettor clacked down at Skorm, disregarding all that the Toa and his companions had said since. "We can be brutal if you wish." With tremendous speed, the Abettor reached out its immense hand and grabbed Skorm by the waist. The Toa of Gravity instinctively tried to use his elemental powers on the hand that held him, but he found that his efforts did nothing. Either the Abettor was so prodigiously strong that a greatly increased tug of gravity on its arm was easy for it to work against, or the behemoth was somehow resistant to elemental attack; Skorm hardly had time to contemplate the likelihood of these two options before the Abettor had slammed him, sacrum first, into the smooth wall of the tunnel. The guardian's hand pushed relentlessly into Skorm, flattening and cracking his hips like a bowling ball rolling over a potato chip. The rest of Skorm's company flinched at the awful noises that they now knew to associate with a shattering pelvis. Skorm himself made some awful noises, too. Tendrils of lime-black fluid seeped out through the mouth vents of the Abettor's eyeless Kanohi Pakari; the sigil on the mask, acid green, seemed almost to be sneering. The Abettor tossed Skorm with as much effort and care as if he'd been a rag doll back down to the floor of the passage. Skorm's companions flinched back in disgust and fear as he landed at their feet. "We do not choose or define the worthy," the Abettor said over Skorm's agonies, its voice eerily unchanged. "We simply know how to recognize them."

And I have a Dasaka who would enjoy some snuggling. Kuno could really use some love.

IC: The Abettor's blinding array of sickly green letter-lights - though, by now, routine and even tedious to this storyteller - were anything but familiar to Skorm. As the Toa of Gravity spoke and took his first steps into the darkness towards where he correctly assumed the behemoth to be, these selfsame luminescent symbols sparked into being. Skorm recoiled at their sudden glow; the light forced him to close and cover his eyes, which had been too long acquainted with the darkness of Mangaia. "It is not our duty to concern ourselves with the affairs of those who have passed," the Abettor's deep drum voice croaked. "We are not their servants." Beyond the miscellaneous letters seared into the insides of his eyelids, Skorm heard the guardian adjust on its haunches. "We do not grant entrance to the unworthy," it went on. "Therefore, you may not pass."

This is gorgeous and I want it.

I wondered about this, too; I didn't know that the parts hadn't been released in trans-purple before (thanks, Aanchir!), so I assumed that they chose flat colored studs because a dark trans-color would've been even easier to lose against carpets, etc., which is also a valid reason I think. I just happen to like the name Barney... I actually didn't realize the brilliance of the the purple dinosaur connection until midway through the review. The ensuing laugh threw me off my productive streak for a good 15 seconds. It ain't Avak.

Entry 1: The Abettor Gallery

Everyone, seriously, tune in to see Andrew's pretty face. That's the main reason I participate.

IC: "You'll want to speak with Captain Onepu, at Ussalry headquarters," Nuparu answered. "Any guard can point you in the right direction to get there. Your volunteering is quite generous, and I'm sure my Koro's military will be happy to take you." Nuparu's words, polite but brief, indicated to his guests that their audience was over. He smiled wanly, and rose to open to door for them. "Best of luck, friends," the Akiri said to Andrex and his fellows. "May the Great Spirit smile on you."

IC: The Toa acted a bit oddly, but Nuparu reminded himself that he'd dealt with less coherent people today. "You don't need my permission to help the people of my Koro, Andrex," Nuparu said, trying not to look bemused or impatient. When he'd agreed to be Akiri, he hadn't bargained on giving audience to benevolent amnesiacs. He could be using this time to invent something. "But I'm glad to hear that you wish to do so. And Arkhal--" --Soon to be the greatest hero ever? One with amnesia, one with an ego, what a day-- "--Have you come for the same reason as Andrex?"

IC: After an Onu-Matoran carrying a mess of miscellaneous machine parts barely managing to stagger out of the Akiri's hut, one of the Ussalrymatoran outside Nuparu's door gestured to Andrex and his assembled company. "The Akiri can see you now," he informed them. Andrex and the others entered Nuparu's hut, some of them having to stoop through the doorway that'd been designed for Matoran. The Akiri, seated in a chair and tossing a few gears idly in his fingers, faced his visitors with the look of one who resolved not to let his long day get the better of him. "Welcome, friends," Nuparu said. "How can I help you today?"

I'm still amused at how the Makuta AI Final Boss was just eaten by Nooj's guy. And I didn't want anyone else to try it at home. Menti powers, with which the staff and I reintroduced mental powers to the game, have the benefit of being extremely codified and enforceable in their limits; this is a major reason why we're okay with having them. A "blank check" mental power like the Komau's (which isn't even a blank check; I'm pretty sure I've outlined its abilities somewhere, at some point; however the Mahiki abuse last arc demonstrated for me that people aren't always great about adhering to those) encourages players to work outside the box in a field that's already very hard to play fairly in. That's why the only one really in use is in the hands of a staff character and his responsible staff player.

I've been doing this already (see the Starter Topic's plot overview); Arc 1, Arc 2, rather than "BZPRPG 2013" etc... We're now in Arc 2, Chapter III, which is much cleaner than saying we're in "BZPRPG 2013" in 2014 and that "BZPRPG 2014" is unlikely to start until 2015.

About flippin' time...

OOC: Ayiwah speech provided by Corv. IC: The call, transmitted across the mental plane, came from above and beyond Nihi; it bore the Commodore’s crisp salty feel, and it was projected in her unmistakable forte. Dashi and Dasaka alike perked up as the call radiated across the emptiness between thoughts, hitting them in turn like an expanding wave that washed over them all and imbued them with its meaning. The Commodore’s was a call Nihi had anticipated since that morning, since a black spot of land had been spotted on the horizon at the first light of day. :We are approaching the island of Mata Nui. All personnel, report immediately to the bridge.: Nihi, who’d been lying on her bunk with her hands lain over her eyes, sat up at once and, in the suddenness of her motion, hit her head on the bottom of Soraya’s bunk. She winced and squinted, rubbing at her forehead, as the Plangori artisan’s face dipped into view, upside-down, wearing something between a smirk and a scowl. The two made eye contact, and at this point in their journey as bunkmates, that alone was enough to induce humored snorts from them both. Mutually and simultaneously, Nihi and Soraya left their room and joined the trickle of Dasaka in the corridor outside already headed to the Ryuu’s bridge. When they arrived, the two found themselves near the back of a horseshoe-shaped crowd that’d already formed around the command consoles and depth controls. Sunlight, dappled and blue, fell through the ocean and then through the bridge window to give everything, and everyone, an aquamarine tint. All eyes in the bridge had turned expectantly inwards to watch Commodore Ayiwah. In a small but definite berth, she stood tall, hands loosely clasped behind her back. Her uniform was – as always – impeccable. Her eyes shone brightly, hinting at excitement, but there was also something stern – again, as always – in their expression. "Dasaka, Suihei,” Ayiwah began, her powerful voice at once silencing the residual titters of the assembled crew. “We are slated to make land on Mata Nui some degrees before sundown, at a Matoran port settlement called Ga-Koro. Only a few Dasaka have ever journeyed such a distance before, to a place our people know so little about.” Nihi shuddered involuntarily as something rippled down her spine. She was one of the only Menti aboard the Ryuu who had voyaged to Mata Nui previously; being this close to the island again reminded Nihi of her importance to the voyage, and the responsibility (the power, she realized with mingled satisfaction and anxiousness) that came with her prior experience. “Lady Hanako, the Rora’s hand in this expedition, has granted my request to address you all before we arrive,” Ayiwah went on, the timbre of her voice shifting, perhaps even towards passion. “Mata Nui is a strange land, full of unknowns. Though we may be far from our homes and families, even though we come from different clans, have different ranks and social standings… all that we do here, on this island, every step that we take and every word that we utter, will reflect on our people as a whole. Each and every single one of us shares in this responsibility. It is our duty to turn this expedition into a success, not just for our Rora and our Toroshu… but for all Dasaka. “There are those on this island who have caused us great grief, who have done us harm… and they will face our righteous fury and will be brought to justice. We will teach the Chaotic Six, and any who may chose to stand with them, that they cannot escape retribution, even by fleeing to the ends of the world. They have brought this fate upon themselves, and if they chose to fight Zuto Nui’s judgment we will wipe them out, ruthlessly and with extreme prejudice.” Nihi found herself nodding along with the Commodore’s words; facing the Piraka, making them suffer for what they had done to her sister, this was why Nihi was returning to Mata Nui. She wouldn’t leave until the Skakdi had paid Zataka in full, until the crimson one had met a fate crueler than Nachi. Nihi already imagined several ways that cruelty could be administered— “But,” Ayiwah snapped, her voice firm as crystal in the fashion of a true sailor. The barked word drew Nihi from the reddish thoughts of her fantasies. “Remember: we have come in the spirit of exploration and diplomacy, to broaden our horizon and establish beneficial relations with this land. We are not here to conquer. Always keep that in your mind. Violence begets violence; if you strike out at these people, you must expect that they will strike back harder than you can. I oppose aggression against the people of Mata Nui on principle… and I hope those of you with more militant tempers have at least the presence of mind to recognize the suicidal idiocy of attacking a foe stronger, more numerous, and more familiar with the land than you are. “The customs of Mata Nui’s people may seem strange to you; their powers may seem awesome and unnatural. You may feel that they are uncivilized, or you might be offended that they do not subscribe to the same Virtues we do. But remember that they do not know our customs, nor do we know theirs. I will only say this once: do not treat the denizens of Mata Nui as inferiors, or as enemies. Ours may be a great people, a great empire; ours may be the greatest society this world has ever known… but it isn't theirs. This is their island, and their home. They live their lives, dream their dreams, and die their deaths here. So when you tread on this island… tread lightly.” “That is all; may Zuto Nui smile upon you. Resume your positions. We will make land in less than two hours.” … The orange dusk sky made the waters of Naho Bay appear almost black. As the waves danced, the sheen of orange that floated on their surfaces, mirrors of the twilight, bobbed along in tandem. Ga-Koro’s leafy huts and, beyond them, the pale cliffs that still bore the likeness of a hero long departed, were all awash in amber. Most huts had hung their lamps already; each lightstone and glowfish was an island of luminance that assisted a Matoran in concluding her day’s business. Further out at sea, under the waves, another spot of brightness yearned to peek out from beneath its blue-black veil. The golden radiance of the Ryuu’s bridge lanterns shone through the submersible’s clear portholes, hazing the proximate water with yellow luminescence. Curious fishes swam past the dots of light and the huge window, but darted to either side, away from this strange whale, as they felt the water around it move. Its ridged, polygonal back pushed up through the sea, hungry for the touch of the sky. The whale ascended, as if for a gulp of air. The first Mata Nuian to notice something rising from the ocean was a Ga-Matoran, out in her rowboat with a fishing pole. She almost dropped the pole – indeed, almost fell backwards out of her boat – when a dark shape, something big and getting bigger, broke the surface only a few strokes from where she was. Frantically, the Ga-Matoran grabbed for her oars and started towards the village, screaming at the top of her lungs that Tarakava were coming. Within a few seconds, it became clear to the poor frightened fisher that whatever had just risen was no Tarakava. The upper part of the Ryuu, bigger by far than any Rahi, reared like a sea monster of myth before her eyes, and the fiery light of the ending day caught on its rigid edges and flat faces, affording its unfamiliar shape an aura of mystery. The crystal dragon emblem on the vessel’s bow gleamed, and its huge bridge window, full of silhouettes, was like a glowing eye in the growing darkness. The whooshing of tons of displaced water, and the Cyclops whale’s brilliant eye, though safely distant from Naho Falls and Ga-Koro’s floating platforms, were loud and bright enough to draw several eyes and ears when they appeared; and once several eyes and ears had been drawn, excited cries and sharp elbows were more than enough to induce the whole Koro to stare at the submarine. Ga-Koro’s lily pad walkways bowed under the weight of dozens of awed spectators. A hatch on the top of the submarine opened, spilling light up into the settling water vapor above the Ryuu. Hanako Herupa, the Rora’s hand on Mata Nui, was first to emerge from the bright aperture. She stood against the railing and breathed deeply, sucking in the maritime air and remarking that it tasted the same as the sea air back home. The Dasaka had arrived.

Tyler is Love

IC: "You will fight the brat for your independence," Nera confirmed. Arsix and Jasik nodded back to her, gravely and in synchronization. "An ambitious goal." Both Jasik and Arsix suddenly felt an icy wind scratching at the insides of their skulls as Nera breezed around their mental defenses. Both twins were well-trained in the art of resistance, but as their forces surged reflexively out to combat Nera, her cold wind darted through the cracks, petrified them, cradled and... mollified them. Though it could have fought them - and probably won - the voice on the icy air soothed the Dastana Twins' concerns with its frigid fingertips. Kuno felt his mother extend herself, and intent on hearing the conversation, he followed suit, the rolling tides of his own mind activating on the mental plane-- --another mind, nearby, not one of the Dastana guards, there were none outside-- --Kuno's waters sloshed in the opposite direction, reversing their course away from the twins' mental space and towards the unknown presence. The eavesdropper's feel was shaky, like Ideatalk over too long a distance; Kuno could immediately recognize the use of a Kanohi Iden, as he himself possessed one and often pulled the same trick as this spy. Intent on drowning the intruder's mind as quickly as he could, Kuno's ocean raged forth at it a relentless tide of will and weight, a brute force assault that had wiped out minds easy before. Meanwhile, Nera - unaware of, or more likely, unconcerned with, the proximate struggle - addressed the twins inside their minds. :The child Rora's inevitable ineptitude will not win your revolution for you,: Nera's winter wind whispered. :The more Toroshu you sway to your side, the fewer that the Umbralines - I don't mean Yumiwa; you've shown Rayuke your whole hand, and their clan is so large that it's not without its competent strategists - will be able to wield against you when war breaks out. The Umbralines own families, they know where to exert pressure when they want to. You'll have to make your allies before they make theirs. Were I in your place, I would turn to the Taajar. The ships of their wrath have sat long in harbor.:

I'd go for another one of the Piraka players.

Me. I can confirm that Hakann's gonna be a little bunny foo foo. Except he'll pull you out of a hat. ...In a few pieces. ~gettin' in character~

IC: "Of course not, sir," I bowed, returning to the kettle. "It will be my pleasure." As I ground another few leaves, the ruby insets of Nera's robe clinked together as she bent over her own tea, daintily raising her cup to her mouth for another sip. A wan half-smile creased her creased face. "At last, the temperature is perfect," she informed nobody in particular. A deeper gulp of the liquid; the sound of a fountain as I filled Jasik's cup; withered lips being licked. Nera set her tea down just as I placed a second cup on the table before Jasik. He smiled insouciantly at me, and I didn't smile back. "Your words have assured me of your self-confidence, Jasik," Nera told the Dastana First Son, sparing Arsix a glance too. "And that confidence does assuage some of my tepidness. But you have, perhaps, gone too far in your conjectures. Yumiwa is a child - even more so than you two - and an Umbraline. I appreciate her on the throne in the same way that I appreciate a cockroach in my tea. Everyone knows this. The accuracy of your assumption that I detest her, while unremarkable, is sound. You are also correct in assuming that Clan Fursic is between two courses of action, and that one course is supporting the efforts of Clan Dastana. The other, though, does not involve siding with the Umbralines. "I am here because I believe that in tandem, Clan Fursic and Clan Dastana can more quickly and painlessly dispose of the cockroaches in our tea. But do not make the mistake of considering me unable to stomp down on the bugs - and, perhaps, the dock rats too - without holding someone's hand."

IC: "Clan Fursic is not yet involved," Nera replied, her eyes flicking once between both twins'. I imagined from Jasik's widening smile - his defense mechanism - that he felt unnervingly seen by Nera, while, like most everyone else, he probably found Nera's gaze inscrutable but for its interrogative edge. Kuno adjusted in his seat, his subtle shift betraying to me his irritation with Jasik's persistent leering. Jasik, also catching a whiff of blood, scrunched his face into an exaggerated wink. "We have no resources invested on one side or the other," the Fursic Matriarch went on, her spine a structural marvel given its prodigious age and enduring erectness. "And as of yet, I've not been presented with a compelling reason to break our neutrality. I find the Umbralines distasteful; I find Clan Dastana's situation, new leadership, and potential intriguing; these are the reasons why I have come. But these are not reasons enough for me and my Clan to take action." Nera turned to my master, and addressed him much as a teacher would one of her pupils. "Thus far, Kuno, Yomiken's issue have demonstrated none of their mother's 'hoko caginess. I'm not being sold to, which disappoints me as a shopper."

It'd also make my life easier. Also, a slight rule change I've just decided to make to encourage this sort of thing. Just a minor adjustment in the Profiles Topic: Has henceforth been changed to: Custom species proposals that I've shot down can be resubmitted to other staff members if you want to try your luck again.

The Kentoku Archipelago and Mata Nui share the same written and spoken language. Why that is, I'm sure you'd just love to know.

IC: "My ideas about the current situation..." Kuno mused. "For one: the Umbralines underestimate you. If they saw the Dastana insurgence as a real threat, they would've taken concentrated offensive action by now, crushed this building on your heads while you've remained in Sado. But they haven't; they don't want to destroy the Imperial Palace, they don't want the damages that come with a real war. They still believe that they can quell your rebellion at little cost to their own assets. It'd be easy to use their caution against them, at least for a time." Nera took a sip of her tea and replaced the hot cup on a nearby table, the clinking sound interrupting Kuno before he could rattle off more of his points. "Jasik, you're a clever boy," the Fursic Toroshu said, her voice sharply discrete from Kuno's. "But I've grown weary of watching you pluck fantastic things out from under your coat to postpone my first question. Clan Fursic's thoughts and plans regarding the state of play are far less relevant to its development than those of the Clan that has killed a Rora, incited violence and rioting in the streets of Sado, and has now made an enemy of the Imperial Executioner." Another sip. "This tea came from your mother," Nera digressed, pursing her lips as she stared down her nose at her cup. "The young never cultivate such subtle leaves. Jasik, Arsix, I don't feel like asking you my question a third time. While I could discover the answers I seek without your cooperation, such an expenditure of my energies would only put me into a bad mood."

IC: From a reserved corner of the room, my hands clasped demurely before me, I watched Kuno struggle not to fidget - successfully, of course, but I could discern the small things - as he directly met Arsix's eyes. She could surely sense, as could anyone who looked at Kuno this way, his prodigious strength as a Willhammer through the surreal connection. The eyes see, but they also exist to be seen, that's what Rejnai taught me so long ago. But a Herupa's eyes exist to remain unseen by all but her master. Forgive me; I have lapsed in my duty. "We are... young, Arsix," Kuno replied with a certain practiced aloofness. "Meanwhile, my mother has played the political field since long before our births, and she has never stopped playing. What do I think of my mother's current involvement? I think it's a given, as inexorable as the tides. We all stand on shifting ground. I believe that in the face of impending instability, it's wise to take hold of any givens - and the constancy they afford - that one can."

IC: Nera took Jasik's inquiry in stride, and answered him like a predator whose belly was full today. "I couldn't say where she's gone off to," the Fursic matriarch pondered. "I would assume that Sheika is wherever she wants to be. That is her wont, isn't it? She doesn't know how to stop moving; she's relentless, hungry; she yearns to bring honor and recognition to her family... or, at least, to fatten their purses. Sheika's never quite gotten over her native obscurity, but I'm sure you already know that; you are her employers, aren't you? Which reminds me: Ikori." I took my cue, and opened the door of the solar, drawing the attentions of Arsix and Jasik, who sat side by side. After closing the door behind me, I bowed respectfully to the assembled company of nobles, meeting eyes briefly with Kuno as I straightened again. Though his mother hadn't been phased by Jasik's insinuation, Sheika's implied involvement in the Rora's death was news to Kuno and me, and it was the critical piece we'd been missing. For the briefest moment - in an exchange so quick that Jasik and Arsix, processing my entrance on the physical plane, wouldn't have thought to feel for it on the mental one - Kuno extended himself into my mind; with the reflex borne of repetition, I accepted his deep ocean coolness, now roiling with the frustration of a delayed epiphany, behind my forehead. :Didn't see; mistake--: :I didn't either, don't blame--: :--Should've--: :Relax, shoulders--: :--Why--: :--Listen to them.: Kuno and I had, by necessity, become very good at this sort of thing, and in the space of a thought or two, he was again behind his own walls, and I faced Nera. "You called for me, madam Toroshu?" I asked levelly. "Prepare me a cup of the Dastana's tea," she ordered, gesturing vaguely. "The set is by the window." "Right away, madam." I strode over to the window, and found on a shelf below it a heatstone boiler, a kettle full of water, ceramic cups, and a bag of dried leaves. With practiced hands, I set to work preparing tea for my master's mother. The Dastana had good leaves; I folded and broke them expertly as the conversation continued behind my back. "Ask Ikori for tea, if you'd like," Nera told her hosts. "We'll be alright," Arsix informed her. Poisoned tea wasn't a new trick on the Kentoku Archipelago, and Arsix was careful. She couldn't assume that I hadn't gotten orders to poison it (though I hadn't). "So," Nera went on, interlacing her fingers as she sat up a little bit straighter. "Unimportant matters - social trifles, really - and beverages aside, we can get to business. Kuno and I know as well as you do that Jasik did not kill Yusanora, may she sing with Zuto Nui. Accepting that this fact is soon to become common knowledge - Rayuke knows, now, and he'll tell anyone who will listen, intent as he is on preventing further bloodshed - I am curious to know how the two of you plan to proceed."