shadow pridak money gang

IC: "You should really shut up." -Tyler

IC: "God, Praggos, shut up." -Tyler

IC: "Well, I'm glad you're into 'em, at least. You can be tough to shop for, killer." Dorian pulled his scarf back up, totally obscuring one of Mata Nui's most (in)famous faces the sans iridescent blue eyes that had crinkled at Krayn Inzaka. He arched his back as they rose the stairs to the deck and rotated each shoulder casually, clearly relieved to leave his weaponry somewhere it would be safe. It had been a long time since he'd walked around this unencumbered. Physically, anyway. "I wonder if Stan is in town." Of all the unlikely friendships on Mata Nui, Dorian Shaddix and Stannis Maru surely had to top the list - or at least made a valiant effort to. His defense of the Toa Maru hadn't solely come from a place of nihilism or grim acceptance of their odds against Makuta; Stannis had spoken for him back in Le-Wahi, long ago, when Dorian took Utu's life and death into his own hands and deemed him Joske's successor. He would never forget that. "I would've thought he'd stay in Ko-Koro a little longer." -Tyler

EW is correct; the Datsue restriction on Kanohi was changed just in the last few days, and obviously people have already picked up on the original Menti weaknesses being removed to allow Sighteyes, Soulswords etc. more room to operate with. As far as the Dashi go, we haven't seen many other psionic forces capable of interfering with the Dasaka to really put their mental shielding to the test. Even if they do have it, they may not even be cognizant of it existing; after all, to Dasaka, the mental plane is a very communal thing. So, Menti disciplines aside, they are a breed of Matoran, just one that had its own distinct societal and evolutionary history separate from most Toa. Dasakan myths hint at heroes who were capable of wielding all four disciplines; those were probably your straightforward Toa of Psionics like Orde. As far as the rest, like EW said, that's just stuff we're tinkering with in the profiles topic and the Dasaka Master Reference Post. When we have a final version settled, we'll be sure to let you know. -Tyler

IC: "It must have been the shitbird!" -Tyler

IC: It was hard for Reo not to look smug in the face of authority; only the presence of the Toa Kalta, outsiders to the Sanctum Guard dynamic, kept his smirk at bay. As a quartet, the two guards, Aelied and Vakua grew nearer to Tarkahn's office, and Reo's hands balled into fists within the confines of his jacket pockets. Still, it was clear that his old boss' distaste for her prodigal son was good for his mood. "Not this again." He snapped to attention mockingly outside the Akiri's office. "Ah, of course. Awaiting orders, Captain." -Tyler

IC: "I understand, Kilanya. Everyone needs to eat." Jasik returned her smile, although that was hardly a new expression on the Dastana's face, and sat down upon the council table where Kozu's projection had laid minutes before. "And for what it's worth, she punched me in the back of the head the morning we were born. So, if it helps, you could treat it she's finally learning some diplomacy." He watched where his twin had stalked off with Plangori Morie; for a moment, he could just see one of Rayuke's enormous shoulders round the corner in the wake of the two Toroshu. He cracked his neck thoughtfully and turned back to the battle-scarred Toroshu of Clan Ageru. In their old lives, truth be told, he had never paid Kilanya any attention. He had more rapport - maybe not mutual rapport, but rapport still - with the First Sons he had attended the Yards with. His peers were Kuno and Kulrik, not Kilanya. There had been some vague rumors about illicit affairs with lower Menti, hastily-attempted and abandoned marriages, but most of what he knew of Kilanya came from jokes made at Kulrik's expense, about another of the Vilda First Son's dream conquests that his oily charm refused to work on. Briefly, he wondered if Kulrik was still alive. He had been so busy over the last two months he had never really stopped to think about it. ... Well, no use wasting more energy thinking about it. "I'm more worried about you. Your orbital looks like it took a pretty strong hit from a staff since the last war council. In my experience with women, the fewer working eyes they have the more they grow cranky." IC: Rayuke smiled wanly at Morie's question. It was not like him to be consulted on court matters regularly, even in Yusanora's day; he was an instrument of her will and of justice, little else. Still, the Plangori's own brand of concern had clearly warmed his heart. "No...advice," he rumbled courteously. "Only...my wish...for you to be well...Toroshu." It was good for him to see a familiar face from court, amid all these Dastana and young Toroshu, but that part was left unsaid in the presence of a woman who was both." -Tyler

IC: "You can't make me be Kale," the Toa of Iron sulked as he finally stood up from Praggos' liquor cabinet. He took a lingering look at his bag, debating whether to bring any of its contents along. It felt alien to not bring any of them, least of all his revolver - but that was just the point. By now, it had become a trademark of his person. If Dorian Shaddix was going to stay dead for a while, that meant the guns had to stay in the bag. And the sword wasn't his to carry around. "I'm comin', I'm comin'. I just wanna go on the train." -Tyler

IC: Desdemona's eyes went wide at her best friend's heresy. She was hardly the most religious person in the world herself, but to question even the existence of Zuto Nui? To her, Masayoshi was threatening to take hammers to the very pillars of the world. Without Zuto Nui to give the Dasaka their Virtues, who knew what routes their species may have taken? Even on Mata Nui, most of the populace was united by their belief in something. And even if she didn't believe, to call it into question right in front of Yumi? "Masa!" she admonished. "That's a horrible thing to say. You're the one who told me half the stories I know about Zuto Nui's benevolence. Like the one about--" She cut off abruptly, her eyes going wider. "I know what that Soulsword was!" -Tyler

IC: As the meeting broke apart, Rayuke's eyes found Jasik again. Arsix's twin brother was already looking at him, and nodded his assent coyly; Rayuke took that to mean that the two First Sons would still be meeting in accordance with the Ideatalk he'd heard after he awoke. He remembered his last face-to-face conversation with Dastana Jasik, when he had been investigated for the murder of his sister Yusanora. The two Dastana had been thicker than thieves and of one mind, closer than Twin Souls in body language and strategy. They were inscrutable, immature, and caustic, but ultimately honest - an unfortunate juxtaposition that did little to quell the tensions. Often Rayuke wondered if he had mishandled that interrogation somehow, whether a more seasoned diplomat may have managed to retain Dastana fealty to the Empire. Back then, the situation had felt as dire as any Rayuke had ever lived through. It was a testament to the situation on the Kentoku Archipelago, between the monsters and the new regime, that Rayuke's memories of the days succeeding his sister's murder had become tinted by nostalgia. The memories of the Umbraline regime were fresh in the minds of all assembled, Dastana loyalists and skeptics alike. Out of that respect, and due to his prodigious size, the small crowd of Menti and Datsue parted for Rayuke to reach Jasik. The First Son was patient enough to wait for them to walk side by side, although he whispered a few words quietly to the Ageru Toroshu before they departed the council chamber. Clearly the two had business together afterward, for as Dasaka began to file from the old council chambers, the two First Sons hung back, close to the doorway. Jasik leaned against the wall casually. He was eyeing the Diamond Throne, as Rayuke had been watching Dasaka do all his life. Few looked upon it with the same scorn as Dastana Jasik. Rayuke wondered what he thought of his twin sister assuming the title of Rora that they had rebelled and rabble-roused so zealously against; was Jasik still committed to the revolution at heart? If so, how was his relationship with his sister? They were the kinds of questions his nieces might have thrived on. Personally, Rayuke was long past the point of caring. "Your sister...did well," he began ponderously. Jasik looked away from the throne and up, into Rayuke's welcoming gaze. "I believe in her," he said simply. "I always have." Had he guessed Rayuke's line of questioning? Perhaps it wouldn't do to pry. "I remember...your smile. I have you...to thank...for my life, Jasik." "I don't know what you're talking about," the First Son said curtly, hiding behind said famous smile. He had done the same when Dastana Yomiken was found murdered in her guest quarters, under this very roof. Jasik shrugged and turned to look at the Diamond Throne again. "...No?" "No. But it was a busy night. I killed a lot of Rahkshi and I saved a lot of people." Rayuke had to laugh at that. He supposed he had the same youthful arrogance once. The deep, rumbling sound seemed to amuse Jasik too, and his shoulders shook quietly. His collar slipped; once again Rayuke could see the wound a Rahkshi staff had so clearly carved into his neck and collarbone, and how it would clearly scar someday, despite the adroit healing he had received. "I admit...I had not...found you..." For once, words were escaping the artisan. Jasik finished the sentence with wry skepticism. "Capable?" He drawled. "Many don't. I've always surprised people." "No doubt. Your wound...is healing...well." Jasik laughed again. "It is. Suppose healers can find the Yards after all," he jested under his breath. He looked up again at Rayuke defiantly. "Masayoshi isn't with you. When we announced you had lived, I was sure she would come find you." Rayuke blinked, surprised. "You were...looking...for Masayoshi?" "Is she alive?" Rayuke blinked again before several things came into focus. He had to smile as his heart welled with the same paternal feeling he received when he watched Yumi drink too much, or Desdemona play a prank - with a bit of the mischief of both his sister's daughters mingled in for good measure. A thing or two about Jasik's continued surliness in the face of nobility had started to make sense now. Masa, Masa, Masa. "When I last...saw Masa, she lived. I trusted her...with Desdemona's life...and they made for...the port. The Yukanna." "The dragon," murmured Jasik, nodding to himself in thought. "We could see it across the city. We thought it was Zuto Nui." "It was my niece." For once in his life, Rayuke required no pause to deliberate on his words. With rare, undisguised pride, he felt the sentence barrel out of him. Jasik caught the older man's tone, and his smile tightened with mock admonition. "Well, then my question is answered. She--they live. Your nieces too. Unless they all drowned." Jasik shrugged. "In any event, I wanted to tell you I'm glad you're up. You can keep the use of your old quarters. I won't pretend you're one of the Menti under my command, but any assistance or advice you want to give, well..." He trailed off for a moment and shook his head. "We can't afford to ignore good advice again. Lord Rayuke." With the surprising deign to Rayuke's ancestral title, Jasik nodded his head and made to move around the Umbraline First Son, to rejoin Kilanya elsewhere in the throne room. Rayuke's hand moved with surprising speed for such an enormous man; Jasik visibly jumped, ready to retaliate, before he realized that Rayuke had pulled off his Kanohi Rode. The old man was staring at the Mask of Truth thoughtfully; he had worn the same expression when he first beheld the mask. "This was...not...always my mask," Rayuke mused sadly. "In my youth...I wore a...Pakari. Fighting with it...I felt...no matter. When I returned...from Iki...our mother...gifted me with it. She was...proud...of the lessons I had...learned. She and...my sister...said it suited me." "Rora Yui?" Jasik asked, ever the subtle student of history. He stared at the Rode with curiosity, but with a healthy dose of caution too. Even with Rayuke's strength sapped by lack of Kanohi, Jasik was clearly wondering how much of a physical threat the other First Son might still be. Rayuke confirmed his question with a nod. "It is...a badge of my office," Rayuke rumbled. "Of the Imperial...Executioner. Of my...role...to my family. My family...has fled. There is...no Empire. I cannot be...the Executioner." The old man held the Kanohi out, offering the Rode as a bridge between the two generations - between the older, wiser artisan and the tempestuous rebel. Jasik was still staring at the mask, unblinking. "You saved...my life...Jasik. Take it. Wear it...in health." Jasik's eyes finally left the Kanohi. He stared deep into the worn, flat, maskless features of Umbraline Rayuke for five long seconds. "No." He shook his head and took a step away from the mask, as though the Rahkshi had somehow left traces of their infection upon it. "I'm not an Executioner. Least of all for the Empire." Jasik inclined his head and pulled his collar up, hiding any trace of his wound from the prying eyes of Rayuke or anyone else. The mask sat in Rayuke's hand still, stretched in Jasik's direction even as he retreated further; the attempt by Rayuke to pass on responsibility for the Archipelago to the younger, able generation had been thoroughly rejected by that generation's herald. The herald inclined his head with curt respect, likely the greatest deference Rayuke could have expected under the circumstances. "Lord Rayuke." One of Jasik's feet was inside the door when he turned back to Rayuke, frozen, staring into the empty eyeholes of the Rode his mother had burdened him with. The Dastana stared at the hunched shoulders of the Executioner for a moment before speaking again. "They were right," he added, in a voice that contained no traces of his usual choleric temper or youthful venom. "It suits you. My lord." Jasik walked inside to greet Kilanya wearing his trademark smile. After a moment's reluctance, Rayuke donned the Kanohi Rode again. As he felt the strength ebb back into his old muscles, and the hunch on his shoulders lighten imperceptibly, he made to follow Plangori Morie, who had requested an audience with the new Rora. As he walked, unbidden, he felt himself smile too. -Tyler

IC: ... "Yeah, thanks Sky." -Tyler

IC: "Pfffwhafffpffffffhuh?" Dor's eyes widened further, and his incredulity escaped through bits of laughter and forced, calming exhales. "That twink up there? Nobody would buy that. He--Kale?" He pouted. "Kale is a chip. Kale's a smoothie. I'm not a Kale." -Tyler

IC: Dorian's eyes went wider than the barrels of the Fowadi's cannons, big blue pits of childlike wonder at the mention of the Iron Mahi. A grin played across the edges of his lips, then ballooned into an exhilarated laugh at the thought of being aboard the metal monstrosity. "I saw that. ] I thought about outrunning it the first time it passed me by, but by the time I had even found a comfortable way to carry my bag I was eating its dust. Sounds like Karz when it goes by, too, doesn't it? I haven't heard anything that loud since--" Dor cut off, both dumbstruck at the realization Krayn had used his nickname and keenly aware of the way Skyra was looking at him for his enthusiasm. The Toa of Air was still mocking him, he could see it; she looked like she wanted to explode like a bomb, her teasing laughter raining down on him like shrapnel. In that moment, he wielded her reputation more dexterously than any firearm. "--Tuara's snoring." This was all Merror's fault. He had poisoned Dor with his corrosive, good-guy Toa Power. "Yeah, I want to tag along. But you two are doing the talking. I prefer being dead for a lotta reasons. No more crazy ##### happening to me is near the top of the list." -Tyler

IC: Desde weighed her sister's suggestion - and her revelation - carefully. One made more sense than the other; if the Rora was Zuto Nui's chosen representative, the vessel through which their goddess communicated to the Dasaka, then of course she would speak to Yumiwa during the greatest crisis in several lifetimes. No doubt many of the Datsue would have considered it a sign that the Umbralines had fallen into Zuto Nui's disfavor, but if she was giving Yumi visions, that would put that theory to bed. Besides, she hadn't seen many of the Datsue aboard their ships. Maybe the old women had all been overrun. She bit back a snicker at that thought, then blinked. That's...not funny. "She spoke to you but gave me a dragon?" she grumbled. "I'm not sure whether to feel proud of that or jealous. I don't feel miraculous. I feel...funny." Curiously, the Chojo lifted a hand and attempted to produce Soulsword energy. For a moment, a violet ball, akin to the crystals she had carried as a good luck charm all her life, appeared above her palm and swirled. It was so viscous it almost resembled a solid...and then it collapsed, folding upon itself infinitesimally into nothingness. She exhaled. -Tyler

IC: "Yeah, but you don't seem brain damaged, either." -Tyler

IC: So much for his shot at a get-along attitude. Reo observed the cloaked leader of the Toa Kalta with skepticism and thinly-veiled distaste. He had no particular feelings on individual members of the Toa Team, and in fact he hadn't even bothered to learn most of their names. But Aelied, the ringleader, was the one he knew by name and sight. Whether he was officially their leader or not, he had no idea; what he had immediately sized up on their first encounter was that this was the Toa the Kalta answered to. Reordin was a Maru, not a Kalta - and before that, he'd been Sanctum Guard. Korzaa, whatever she might have been, was his commanding officer. No chance this bug-eyed old man would be escorting her anywhere. He was done trusting people with her well-being after the last bunch had bungled her escape from Ko-Koro. But he vocalized none of that; Toa Kopaka's spirit was in him now, as well as shards of Heuani's twisted shade, and both of them erred on the laconic side. "Naaaaah." Whether the Toa Kalta of Sonics followed him or not, Reordin didn't particular care; he silently stalked to Korzaa's office to the left and a step ahead of Aelied. The stocky Ko-Matoran was waiting for them at the door to her office, clearly unenthused with Aelied escorting her anywhere. He shot her the kind of quick, insubordinate wink that she had once loathed from the Ko-Matoran Sanctum lieutenant he had been in a previous life as they walked to the new Akiri's office as a unit. -Tyler

IC: Desde blinked. The dragon...she had been hung up on dragons, hadn't she? She'd dreamt she was talking to her cousin at some point in the fugue of her catatonia; she had been gushing about her adventures with Ayiwah amid a strange, featureless void. Her cousin was nowhere to be heard, but her voice had been as clear as it was when she stood before them minutes prior. Physically, it had just been her and...and... She shuddered, uncertain of why. "I've never had any luck with Soulswords," the shy Chojo mumbled softly. "It was the one discipline I could never get the hang of. Inokio always said Soulswords were more than weapons, they were manifestations. They were our souls, made into energy. But a dragon isn't...well, either of those. Especially not for me..." She trailed off. "And besides, no Menti has commanded all four disciplines in living memory. Not since the Empire began." -Tyler

IC: Desde smiled at their older cousin and hugged her shins protectively, her chin perched upon her left kneecap as Yumi gave permission for her cousin to depart. She liked what Mata Nui had done to Ayiwah. There were traces of her cousin's wild youth in her that would never quite be excised, but for as long as Des had been alive the commodore had been a rigid woman with a commanding presence, key traits for surviving and keeping the respect of a crew on tough sea voyages. It was nice to see the private, adventurous Menti that her mother spoke so fondly of - the one who had been there for Des in a way that few Umbralines aside from Masa and her uncle ever had. She lifted up a hand from one long, skinny leg and waved with an adoring smile. "Goodbye, Ayiwah," she added as she rocked side to side, occasionally bumping shoulders with Yumiwa. "It's been great seeing you again." After she left, the two princesses - well, the empress and the princess - were left alone. Or, as alone as they could each get; Yumi would have handmaidens to keep her counsel and guard her body until she died, and although that was never Masa's assigned position Desde knew she could count on the blind woman to do the same. She trusted her coatrack more than anyone to take the following topic to her grave. Des lifted her face up and rubbed at the red mark her knee had left upon her left cheek, but when she dropped her hand to her side she mentally adjusted to the role of Chojo. Yumi was treating this as a council meeting, clearly, so Des would do the same. "I need you to tell me something. Any of you, all of you," she shrugged, "whoever. What happened when we were leaving Sado? Why was I asleep the whole trip over? It must have taken weeks to arrive here, but I woke up an hour from the shores?" She felt a burning on one side of her head. Strangely, it wasn't painful. It just burned. Like nursing a hot cup of tea, without the follow-up sensation of a scalded tongue. The warmth was enjoyable. "Was there really a dragon?" IC: Whitehot grinned at the special attention Toa Leah was paying her midriff and lifted up her thumb and little fingers of both hands in a knowing salute, as if to thank her for the unspoken compliment. Mata Nui, Leah was so hot .Imagining the kind of power it took to stomp Makuta the way Leah did blew White's mind - and she knew that between her prodigious strength and her Pakari, she was capable of stomping pretty dang hard. To think Leah was capable of even more... Stomping Makuta, of course. Ma-ku-ta. Look at that shoulder roll. She's so sick. She's so hot. The rumors about her and Reordin Maru were just that, right? That would be so unfair to the hardworking people of Mata Nui. "Trust me, Ga-Koro's got a better spots-to-tourist-traps ratio than any other village on the island," she assured the gathered Menti with an affectionate grab of the top of Sinshi's head. "It's not like Ta-Koro or Le-Koro where everything's a tourist trap. Spend a little while with a local from Ga-Koro, and the place will feel like home in no time - right, Sinsh?" -Tyler

IC: "Cut it out." It was a stunning sentiment from the Toa of Iron, the energetic assassin who had terrorized everyone present in the room on more than one occasion with his bipolarity and knack for casual beatings and killings. Dorian's eyes weren't focused on anyone in particular - not his one-time lover, nor his hopefully-future lover, his ex-compatriot amidst the Mark Bearers or the Fowadi's current master, not even the little projection of a Kanohi on his shoulder. He was staring at the bag anchoring his right leg, the assortment of guns and weaponry he'd accumulated from years of misadventures. He exhaled a breath that had burdened his chest for close to a minute. "It doesn't matter what the Maru did or didn't do, it matters that now they have to finish the job. It's too much for me - and if I'm outmatched then no offense, but I don't think the brain trust on this floating love shack has much of a shot either." He kicked the bag away, the canvas straps unfurling as the bag slid into the space between Krayn and Dehkaz's legs. Dor's chin lifted from his collar to look at the assembled Aggressors. "Joske said something to me at some point - sailing somewhere, I think." The boat won't take you all the way. You'll have to swim for the next one. "He might've meant Kentoku. Or he might've meant another island entirely. I'm still working that part out. But as soon as I do, I'm gone. Because I think this whole #####show goes a whole lot farther than Mata Nui." He shrugged - and, after a moment, he cocked his head to the left and rubbed his cheek on the De-Toa's hand gripping his shoulder. "Thanks, gang. You don't mind if I find somewhere to burrow in and hitchhike for a few days, do you? The sooner I get Merror off my tail, the sooner I can go back to shooting up devil worshippers without hearing sermons about it." -Tyler

IC: It felt dreamlike, in a way, to be so connected to her family like this. True, the Umbraline family unit was incomplete. Her beloved uncle should have been there, his burly physique there to blot out the sun and protect them both from harm. He could regale them with stories and nurture their adolescent minds with his wisdom, a delinquent-turned-retainer who had overcome his own demons through effort and the attentions of those who loved him. Family had come together to assuage Rayuke's guilt and his rage; she wished he was here to extend the same courtesy to them. She missed her father, even though she had hardly known him; she wondered if she would have remained confined to her tower, forever a courtier on the fringes of her own family's power structure, if he had been alive to protect his youngest daughter. She missed Hanako - Ayiwah had told them of the Herupa's death and comforted them, although oddly she seemed more troubled by the loss than the Rora Hana had sworn her entire life to and died representing. She missed her mother...though that ache was growing more distant by the day, for reasons even she could not be certain of. She had seen the woman who birthed her murdered, snatched away cruelly before the eyes of the Toroshu who loved her - how could it be that she was recovering? But she was recovering. She was smiling, and laughing, and telling jokes, here with her big sister and the adventurous cousin she idolized. She was bopping the brim of the hat Masayoshi found herself bedecked in against her will, and giggling at her sworn sword's attempts to flee; the Executioner's assistant found herself dragged to the couch beside the Chojo, with strength half granted to her by Desde's psionic strength. Together with Yumi, they badgered Ayiwah on the story of the metal piercing that had given the commodore such an unexpectedly bashful turn. Come to find out, it had been a gift from a local Menti - erm, Toa! - and that the crystalline accessory the commodore had worn almost half her life was now resting in that Toa's very midriff. The two princesses gave her a roastmaster's earful for that, too. Finally, sipping at some of Zafin's excellent tea, she looked over to her sister and smiled, shyly and subconsciously slipping into the background as she always had around the Rora. "Yumi?" she asked, spinning the saucer beneath her teacup. "You brought up Twin Souls training on the Panda. Were you..." She looked over to her sister's twin handmaidens. "Did you mean it?" -Tyler

GIMME DA LOOT Thanks to all fort owners for bearing with me for the extra day or two; real life crept up and rolling this stuff required a lot of numbers that made my brain overheat a couple times during the process. But without further ado, I'm super excited to roll out the first batch of weapons available, effective immediately, to all current fort owners: -To the gang of drug cooks, abusers, and illiterates at Khy;Barr (run by Gravity): a Cordak Blaster, a Rhotuka Battle Axe, a Lightstone Rifle, a Devastator Lance, an Eccentric Rock (yum!) and your very own Zamor Gatling! What is THAT? What IS that? -To the short but sweet crew over at Fort Garsi (run by Mel): an Electro Chute Blade, an Energy Extraction Rifle, an Impact Crystal Launcher, and a Sonic Cycle, on the house! -To the Razorfish gang (run by Snelly): a Lightstone Rifle, another Eccentric Rock (great for licking!), a Firework Revolver, and another Cordak Blaster! -To the black magic death cult by the sea, the De-Najin (run by Fanixe): a Rhotuka Battle Axe, a Cordak Blaster, and our second free Sonic Cycle! -To my favorite gang of necromancers (back from the dead, funny enough!) at the Barrowfort (run by NorikSigma): a Cordak Blaster, a Devastator Lance, another Eccentric Rock (seriously, lick it!), a Lightstone Rifle, and the island's first (but not last! ) Exo-Skakdi! This bad boy can fit so much black magic and firepower! This arcane prototype, recently unearthed from the ruins of some old fort or another, is able to channel a Skakdi's elemental power independent of anyone else! It packs armor that can shrug off an entire magazine of Zamor Spheres, comes equipped with a wrist-mounted rocket launcher, a reinforced quartz cockpit akin to the windscreen of a Sonic Cycle, and the HUD will sing to you in French! Hon hon! You can expect more news on mass production of these babies in the months to come, but be honest - why wait til the holidays when you can just kill Norik for his now? I know what I'd do before the Christmas rush! -And last but not least, to the Unmentionable Business Expenses at the Pit (run by Smudge8): a Firework Revolver, an Impact Crystal Launcher, and a Hagah Plasma Cannon, in case anyone starts talking about Fight Club! Thanks to everyone who rolled a fort to start the arc off! I'll be sending each of you a follow-up PM with larger-scale loot that benefits your specific forts, but for the meantime, enjoy your toys - and if you like what you're seeing here and aren't involved with any of these forts, by all means, gather up some friends and make these lucky warlords run their loot! I went by the forts and PCs currently active in the profiles topic that I could find, but if I happened to miss you on this run, or if you want to construct a fort with some friends without the hassle of Blood for the Blood God, PM me and we'll get you fitted out with some tech of your own! I'll be sending out periodic updates and giving fort owners a lot more in the way of goodies, so keep an eye on them and enjoy as what was once a peaceful, docile Industrial Revolution full of telegrams and higher education becomes a hellish age of blood, chrome, and weirdo energy siphoning! -Tyler

IC: adenine guanine thymine cytosine adenine guanine thymine cytosine- Amidst the inky sea of esoteric words in her anarchist's cookbook, those four had been tantalizing Deuandra for days - weeks? The thought of their bodies being no more than alchemical constructs, chimeras cobbled together from four mystic substances she could not taste, touch or snort, was unfathomable. Most people were quite attached to their bodies in an abstract sense; they hated the idea of them being damaged or decaying, but if they were to break a limb or sleep wrong on their back, it was their back's fault, their back bothering them, as if they were somehow now a victim of this stupid back they were lugging around. Under those circumstances, they considered their bodies little more prisons for their minds and souls - or, since the world was really the ultimate prison, their bodies were but individual cells. Cells...cells! What a genius name! She would have to write that in the book at a moment when her hands weren't occupied. With her dominant hand, Deuandra was mixing up the draught that Arms had requested from her. Neither she nor her patron were really sure what would happen if they mixed these ingredients together, if truth be told. They both had vague ideas of what certain ingredients did from her residency as chief alchemist of Khy;Barr, but most of her time here had been spent shoring up or modifying recipes her mother had penned when she had the book. One day it would be her turn to create anew, and with every broth she made she wondered if that would be it, the first step towards her own magnificence. Curiously, she took the utensil she was using to mix the potion and took a long sip. Mmm. Deuandra smacked her lips. It was tasty, but...she was hardly even feeling a buzz, let alone strong enough to take her quadruple arms and rip Skakdi apart in a bloody frenzy. It seemed like this one was a failure, too. With her left hand, she was keeping her music player powered, humming along to its beat as she concocted and experimented. It helped break up the monotony; her lab was usually a quiet place, hazy with fumes or Vana's smoke. More than once Deuandra had passed off some substance or another to smoke that she was sure might kill the other Lesterin, but so far it seemed like there was nothing she couldn't soak and smoke in an ovuk-taht. Deuandra kind of admired that, in a way. But she didn't like the way Vana looked at her. Especially when Deuandra herself was under some ill effect or another, and the necromancer appeared to her with a hundred leering eyes like a housefly. No, the lab was best with just her, her humming, and her vocalizing. -wanna- She fired off an imaginary Zamor four times, spinning and humming as she rotated from one end of her messy countertop to the other -wanna take your guanine- PEW PEW PEW PEW Was someone really firing a Zamor in here? What was that noise? It was weird she wasn't feeling any stronger. Arms tended to be pretty patient with her failings, ɟoɹ ɐ ʍɐɹloɹp' ʍɥᴉɔɥ lǝp pǝnɐupɹɐ ʇo snsdǝɔʇ ʇɥɐʇ ɥᴉs qɹnʇᴉsɥ ǝxʇǝɹᴉoɹ ɥᴉp ʇɥǝ ɯᴉup oɟ ɐ sɔᴉǝuʇᴉsʇ˙˙˙ǝʌǝu ᴉɟ ɥǝ ʍɐs ʞᴉup oɟ ɐu ᴉllᴉʇǝɹɐʇǝ ouǝ˙ Wait, huh? Deuandra blinked groggily behind her goggles. Ohhhh... "Hahahahaha." Iʇ ʍɐs sʇɐɹʇᴉuƃ ʇo ʞᴉɔʞ ᴉu' Λɐuɐ¡ Λɐuɐ' ɔoɯǝ sɯoʞǝ ʇɥᴉs¡ Iʇ,ll ʇnɹu ʎon ᴉuʇo ƃnɐuᴉuǝ¡ She hoped ɿɘʜɈɘϱoɈ ##### ɿɘʜ qɘɘʞ oɈ ɘldɒ ɘd blυow ɘʜƨ in front of Arms. PEW PEW PEW PEW They were footsteps; Arms' footsteps! Huhuhuh oh. .ɘmiɈ ƨiʜɈ ɿɘʜɈɘϱoɈ Ɉi qɘɘʞ ɒnnoϱ ƨɒw ɘʜƨ woʜ ɒɘbi on bɒʜ ɒɿbnɒυɘႧ THIS ONE WAS NEW TO THE P A L A T E "Arms?" The Lesterin cleared her throat and repeated: "Arms?" as the footstep-gunshots echoed closer. "I just need a few more minutes!" vana vana take your guanine -Tyler

hongry : ) -Tyler

To all fort owners: I'm going to be rolling your loot and sending it out to you over the weekend! Please be sure you've put your fort profiles in your profiles topic post so that I know who to randomize for, and if I missed something for approval just let me know! -Tyler

IC: Desdemona was a stranger to negotiating with aliens, but she couldn't escape the gut feeling that their meeting with Akiri Hahli had gone exceptionally well. Hahli had seemed amenable to the idea of an initial Dasaka settlement in Ga-Koro, but everyone present knew that would never be enough to hold them all. Also left unspoken, but which Des had become preoccupied with as she'd enjoyed her beer, was the potential for more Dasaka to cross the ocean and join them on Mata Nui. She did not know if she found that thought comforting or not. The thought of the Umbraline fleet being the last of their storied people, endangered so far from home, was a chilling one...but so was the idea that the situation was so dire on the Archipelago that the Dasaka had no choice but to flee their ancestral lands, abandoning them to the darkness for a chance at survival. Every day more ships failed to arrive could mean continued success on Sado or Oki, or it could mean the final destruction of their people. It could mean anything. All their options were horrifying. So, as (what remained of) a family, they chose not to overstay their welcome in Hahli's office - even though a test run of her pool might have been nice. Instead, they retreated back to the Panda as a septet, the two Umbraline princesses, Ayiwah and Masayoshi their elders, Zafin and Yumi's two Eyiu Twin Souls flanking them as they returned to the docks. As they walked, Des shot her Rora - her big sister - a few searching glances. With everything that had happened, the Chojo knew that Yumiwa was feeling the wear and tear. They had learned from the same tutors and shared many of the same instincts, so if Des was fretting over the future this much, she knew Yumi was right there with her. But Desde could swear that Mata Nui had brought a glow to her sister today. It was a hard aura to place, like trying to recollect the feeling of another Menti's Willhammer tell, but it was familiar to her from their childhoods; she remembered the feeling of watching Yumi and Hana adventuring together from afar, dreaming of the day they would rule the world. Desde knew now where she recognized the glow from; it was the feeling of adventure, one that had possessed Yumi since the day she was born. Des was an intruder upon that feeling; before now, she had only felt it by riding along as an unwelcome passenger amid her sister's emotions, a stick bug unable to be flicked away. She doesn't think of me like that anymore. We're sisters again. She smiled and put away those thoughts. Whether her pep talk to herself had merit or not, she would have to force herself to believe it. It was just nice to see the glow at all; Yumi was as gorgeous as any callow old Vilda when that spark of life was in her. But it wasn't Yumi who she seized upon when they'd boarded the Tactical Panda II (.:Tactical Pan-dos?:. she suggested with a smug grin as they descended the stairs) and enclaved below decks in Yumi's private study. It was Ayiwah; the skinny princess latched around her cousin and long legs tangled a knot even the veteran sailor might be proud of. There was cargo that weighed more than the Chojo did soaking wet, but she gave the embrace as much force as she could muster anyway. "Hello, Commodore," came the muffled adolescent greeting, murmured into the dignified shoulder of Ayiwah's uniform. "I missed you, I missed you I missed you I missed you..." -Tyler