(Daedalus)

Actually, not having a set schedule for the fights could be interesting. Let the fights just go naturally until they end, but don't have a set period of time until the next one. In other words, don't let it become predictable. That way, the fighters have no idea how much time they have to explore and figure out what the heck is going on before they get teleported back to the arena.

Which brings up something else that could be interesting IC: How does everyone get teleported back to the arena? That could be something for the fighters to find out. I'm imagining some of the fighters about to discover something they aren't supposed to, and then they get teleported lickety-split back to the arena. That would certainly create some incentive to find what's teleporting them and stop it.

I'm just spewing out random ideas here because I really want this RPG to work. Whether or not they are good ideas is, I suppose, up to you to decide.

My suggestion for Bionifight? A fight every other week. That way players can spend more time with the story without having to get themselves knocked out.

And I can personally attest to the RPGness of Bionifight. I played the tail end of Bionifight: Ultimate, and most of the players had to actively try not to make their characters, well, characters. At least, that's how it felt to me. I can definitely see this working.

IC: Trauer

Trauer nodded, and now that the subject of rest had come up, he felt suddenly weary. He hadn't rested since before they had gone down there and he wanted to get off his feet.

"I could definitely use some rest." He sat down on the grass and tilted his head up to look at The Heretic. "If you don't mind, Master, I'd like to lay down for a bit. If you'd like to explore the temple, I'll catch up with you in a little while."

OOC Since Makuta Miras kicked us out of his room, I'm assuming that we are in Zealot's room

 

IC Zealot

 

The light was fading in through the small window as the Ko Toa turned sharply to face his heart's betrayer. 

"No. you DON'T!" 

With every breath the room grew colder as his eyes glared at the player of games

"You can't!" His pain turned to anger as he grabbed her, involuntarily seeping the warmth from her body 

"You want to make me look like a fool! You had this planned!" he forcefully withdrew as his hands as he turned away, looking angrily into the shadows

"Lure me in with your sweet kindness, then turn me down when I reciprocate?!"

He slammed his fist against the desk, hurling his books to the floor

"You wanted to hurt me"

OOC: That sounds fine with me.

IC: Faora

The temperature of the room seemed to decrease as his anger increased, a theory further strengthened when he grabbed her and she began to become unbearably cold. She gasped, partly due to the shock--memories surfaced of a slip into a nearly frozen lake--and partly due to Zealot's outbursts. His hurt had shifted to anger, and when he slammed his fist on his desk, the sharp pain of the noise nearly caused her to reciprocate.

But as she rose shakily from her chair and her eyes fixed on Zealot, a story began to unfold within her mind. It was a story devoid of details, by the major plot points were there in outline form:

I. Zealot falls in love

II. He marries (object in pocket: ring)

III. Tragedy befalls the loved one

IV. Zealot blocks out further love to avoid pain

She might have been slightly off, but she knew she was near the mark. She had expressed her love for him, and when he risked everything by opening himself up to her, she had pulled away.

Mata Nui, she felt like a monster.

The anger she had begun to feel faded away, replaced by tranquility. Sadness.

Regret.

"No, Zealot," she said softly, taking a step closer to him. "No. I may be many things, but I'm not pernicious. Rational to a fault? Yes. Foolish? Yes. Ill-informed about matters of the heart? Mata Nui, yes." She shook her head. "But I would never deliberately hurt you. I care about you too much to do that, and I'm sorry that I did hurt you."

She stepped even closer and poured all the emotions she felt into her next words.

"But please don't cut me off. Please." Her voice cracked. "I just... need... time."

IC: Faora

Faora's body turned cold, though whether it was from some outside influence or from within, she neither knew nor cared. See what you've done?! her heart screamed.

She began to shake her head. "No, please, don't misunderstand! I do! I want this more than you can imagine. I just..."

Her heart and mind were colliding from two extreme positions, but no middle ground was forming between them. She could feel both positions, she understood both positions, but reconciling them was another matter entirely. This was an arbitration unlike any she had dealt with before, and it was driving her crazy.

A groan of frustration escaped her. How could she explain so he would understand? She could see--she could hear--his pain, and her heart began to ache.

"Zealot, I love you. I do. But... everything's happening so fast. I've never... I've never felt this before. I don't understand it. I don't know how to deal with it, to... to process it."

Her words felt like they were spilling out unchecked, but whether or not she understood, she prayed that she could make him understand. She needed him. She wanted him.

And she couldn't lose him.

IC: Trauer

"Any place you'd prefer to visit?"

The Vault.

"Not particularly..." he said, his mind drifting. He had not been to many of the Koros, though he had passed through every Wahi. He hadn't found any of the locations noteworthy; he couldn't think of any particular place he wanted to visit.

Well, except for the Vault.

IC Zealot

 

The toa of Ice stood motionless. He felt the weight on his chest as he had to fight for every breath. He strained to pull the air into his lungs as if his body were shutting down. His every breath hung in the air, made visible by the cold world, reminding him that he would have to breath in once more.

His eyes looked fondly into Faora's, he thought about how it would feel to be loved again.

He wondered what it must feel like ti be held, to find acceptance. 

Belonging. 

It had been so long since the toa had felt like he belonged. 

He closed his eyes tightly, trying desperately to find the words

"You" he began, "don't know how much I want..." he felt his hand being drawn to her, to brush his fingers against the cheek of her mask. Veneras was suddenly aware of the weight on his chest as he remembered once more the need to inhale. His hand froze in the air, mili-bios from her mask.

The cold air that used to bring vitality to his lungs, now only filled his soul with agonizing pain.

I thought I froze this emotion

The faltering Toa cursed his weakness.

If you care about her, you will stop!

IC: Faora

She was dimly aware of his nearing presence, and she drew on her mask once again to see what he was doing. His hand was near her face. She started to close her eyes, anticipating the touch--

And then her brain kicked in.

What are you doing?!

Before her heart had time to react, her hands had reached up and grasped Zealot's hand--gently, yet firmly--and she ducked her head. "No. No, no. Nonononono..."

She lifted her head again to look Zealot in the eyes. "What are we doing? What am I doing?"

Her heart was screaming "You're going to destroy this!" but her brain had asserted control. Already, she had begun rationalizing things.

"I'm sorry, Zealot, I know I initiated this but..." Oh geez, Faora, you're butchering this. "I didn't mean to..." She had to look away again.

She didn't mean to what? Already her heart was vying for control, wrestling with her mind.

Brain: She had meant what she said--she did love him--but this was too soon, way too soon. They had known each other for a day--no, less than that--and she had already told him she loved him. That couldn't be right.

Heart: And why not? What was wrong with that? She loved him. It didn't matter how long she had known him.

Faora tried to suppress a groan; she was only marginally successful, and she found herself asking herself the same question: Mata Nui, what have I done?

IC: Faora

Faora's body flushed with heat, a combination of embarrassment and disappointment. She turned her blurred gaze downward, unable to keep her head up as she struggled for a response.

See what happens when you let your heart run wild? You get rejected.

But then... had he really rejected her? He had said she deserved better, but she didn't believe that. And besides, she had caught something in his voice. It could have been surprise, but she didn't think that was it. It was something else.

She thought of his mention of a "blessing," and she internally chided herself. She realized how unfair it had been for her to say what she had said. She meant it, of course, but perhaps she had said it too soon. Neither had had time to process what was going on. She felt a connection with him, and she was sure he felt one with her, but... maybe he--they, rather--needed time.

"I don't believe that," she said, shaking her head. She wanted to say more, but she hesitated, afraid she would misspeak.

IC: Trauer

Trauer glanced back at the cave

I'm going back

and then turned away, falling into step behind his master.

OOC: No worries, Rorschach. Life should always take precedence. That said... it's good to see you back. 

IC: Faora

What did she mean?

She knew, of course, but admitting it was much more difficult. It was much easier to ignore her emotions and focus on other things. But she couldn't do that here. This was too important, too pressing, too... pleasant.

"I mean..." Her voice faltered. How was she supposed to answer this? Her mind was telling her one thing, while her mouth wanted to say something else. But it wasn't just her mouth was it?

It was her heart.

"I mean... you. You are... that... one... person." It was hard to get the words out, but she had to. "And by that, I mean that I..."

Love.

You.

Say it, Faora. Say it.

But why? I just met him, what, today? Yesterday? I can't even remember. Regardless, I don't really know him, now do I? I can't know him, not so soon after meeting him..

You can fool the mind, Faora, but not the heart. You can try, but you're only prolonging the inevitable.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. She looked him straight in the eye and then deactivated her mask. And then, without trying to figure this out logically, weighing both sides as she so often did, she just relaxed and spoke the words.

"I love you, Zealot."

Oh Mata Nui, help me.

Since my last post, I have read The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum, Jaws by Peter Benchley, Jaws 2 by Hank Searls, and 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King. Great books, the lot of them. I'm currently reading Sue Grafton's "L" is for Lawless. I read the preceding books fairly recently, and since I haven't read the latest book in the series, I figured I'd pick the series back up and read all the books currently out.

IC: Trauer

Trauer glanced at The Heretic.

"Punished by whom?" he asked absently. He was still thinking about the Vault, what lay inside. He already found himself itching to turn back, but... no. Not now. Later.

IC: Trauer

Trauer had been strangely captivated by the scene. Skorm had fought through excruciating pain to try to obtain something, and Kotak seemed incredibly insistent.

What was in there?

A curiosity Trauer had never known before was piqued. Maybe--

"Are you coming?"

Trauer glanced over his shoulder. Right. His master.

"Yes, I'm coming," he said, though he couldn't be sure how loudly he had spoken.

As he turned to follow The Heretic, he determined to remember this Vault. He would follow his master for the time being, but he would come back eventually, if only to satisfy his curiosity.

IC Zealot

 

The philosopher leaned back 

Seven sin: vanity he noted 

possible issues with vulnerability.

Must investigate further

"Handicapped?" Zealot asked,keeping silent his suspicions, "You have overcome great trials and proved your strength over circumstance." He leaned in, looking past the glow of her mask into her eyes veiled by haze "tell me: how is that handicapped?"

IC: Faora

Under normal circumstances, such a piercing, knowing gaze would unnerve her, maker her uncomfortable. Everything within her told her to look away, change the subject, draw back. But she didn't.

"Maybe handicapped wasn't the right word," she said after a moment, flushed by his affirmation. "But liability? If I get tired, I lose control of my mask and I can hardly see. If I get knocked on the head, I can hardly see." Emotion was creeping into her voice. "If I lose focus for any reason at all, I can hardly see. You think anyone wants someone like that guarding his or her back?" She took a shaky breath. "I don't--" Did I just hear something by the door? "--think so. Besides..." Her eyes locked with Zealot's. "It's comforting to have someone who knows your greatest weakness, but only when it's that one person."

You.

Zealot.

IC: Faora

Why indeed?

It wasn't quite the kind of question she had expected him to ask, but now that he had, she wasn't entirely sure of the answer.

"I... don't... know," she said haltingly, a frown crossing her face. "When I did solo work, I figured I wouldn't give potential employers much confidence if they found out I--" Her eyes shot toward the door. "--relied, ah, heavily on my mask. Now..." She shrugged. "I've never had an opportunity like this. I didn't--don't--want to appear... handicapped."

It's called pride, Faora.

IC: Faora

Faora's heart fluttered as her eyes searched Zealot's face.

"No," she said. "Go ahead."

IC: Trauer

Trauer inched closer to his master, his eyes on the Rahkshi.

I was strangely fascinated by the character Daedalus in the video game Deus Ex, partly because I only had the preview edition of the game for many years, so his purpose and true identity were always a mystery. I had originally intended to eventually change my name and avatar to Icarus, and then to Helios, but I never got around to it. I've stuck with (Daedalus) (the parentheses used because Daedalus was taken) ever since.

I use Daedalus pretty much everywhere on the Internet, though it's often followed by 1138.

 

 

IC Zealot

 

Zealot smiled before relighting his pipe "I wonder how long we're supposed to wait here for?" he queried 

 

IC: Faora

She looked at Ayar and Scholar; their conditions hadn't changed any.

Shrugging, she said, "I don't know."

 

 

IC Zealot

 

Zealot smiled "thank you" he said gently. "and if you need anything, I would like you to count on me."

 

IC: Faora

"I will," she said, the warmth within her increasing.

I will.

My favorite would have to be the MT-51 Claw-Tank Ambush. It was fun to build and play with. Actually, aside from Bionicle, it was the LEGO set I played with the most. Many times it would represent multiple tanks in the same area. It would be [super Awesome Codename 1] in one place, then I'd pick it up and quickly move it somewhere else so it could be [super Awesome Codename 2]. Great stuff.

I've never had much problem writing from the perspective of either gender, so when I started making characters for the RPG I tried to be pretty even-handed in terms of what sex they were.

 

Of my seventeen characters, nine are guys, and the other seven are girls. 

I... I...

The maths...

At the end of Halo CE, when chief removes his helmet, there is actually a SECOND helmet beneath it.

This is similar to the part in Mass Effect 3 in which Tali removes her mask. There is another mask underneath it.

The use of the phrase "mad as a hatter" to describe someone as being insane comes from the use of mercury in the making of felt hats in the 18th and 19th centuries. People who worked in hat factories were often exposed to mercury, and over time, they would develop a case of mercury poisoning. This caused dementia (called mad hatter's disease or mad hatter's syndrome).

I make up characters. I write them. Stuff happens.

I have found that for me, putting too much planning into a character doesn't produce satisfactory results. Take Trauer. I had a long back story planned for him, kind-of planned all kinds of stuff that was supposed to happen to him in the RPG, none of which ended up occurring. He ended up randomly becoming a disciple to some dude he barely knew (and he certainly doesn't understand much about or even totally agree with said dude's beliefs), and now he's down near the Vault staring at the Abettor, who recently turned Skorm's pelvis into mashed potatoes.

Faora, on the other hand, was created with the sole purpose of becoming an Outsider, and even then, the only stuff in her bio that so far has played much of an impact in my writing her is her half-blindness. And you know what? She's been a blast to write. I've certainly produced much better writing (I think so, anyway) with her than with the more-planned-out Trauer.

What does that have to do with the current discussion? I don't know. Maybe something like: I didn't really think very much about gender when I made my characters. It was pretty much, "Well, my first character was a male, so I'll make a female character next." Or something like that.

 

 

 

IC Zealot 

 

The zealot of Mata Nui pursed his lips, pressing in the emotions tightly to keep them from escaping.

"I am thankful" he looked at her with burdened eyes "for your sympathy."

Removing his hand from his pocket he brushed his knuckles across his mask, wiping the frozen glimmer from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I do not mean to bring you down" he apologized, 

 

IC: Faora

Faora reopened her eyes and focused them on Zealot, who was wiping his eyes. A sad smile, born of her heart and bearing its warmth, crossed her face.

"You don't need to apologize, Zealot," she said, softly, tenderly. "I..." There was so much she wanted to add to that, so much she wanted to say, to profess... but she didn't--couldn't. Now wasn't the time. Maybe later--hopefully later--but not now. "If you ever need need anything... I'll be there."

Always. For you.