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Year 14

About Krayzikk

  • Birthday 05/09/1997

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Astral Lightning

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  1. Markov 2.0, some changes so new post. Name: Nikolai Markov Species: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Appearance: Before three weeks vacation at a little bed and breakfast on Mars, Nik Markov had been a little taller than your average grunt and built lithe. Skinnier than you’d really expect for special forces, not that you could tell when he was suited up to dive feet first into . Now he’s only really lithe if you stand him next to another Spartan and at 6’10” he’s taller than even many other IVs. For his old squadmates it’s a bit like talking to a tree trunk, not that he noticed during the PT to get used to his new frame. The Spartan IV augmentations gave him a whole new lease on life with combat capabilities that could extend well into the next century, but they didn’t do anything to hide a lifetime of injuries big and small. Outside his armor, Nik’s hands are calloused and pockmarked by well-healed scars. Without a shirt you could see similar marks across his body, along with a pale line tracing a path across his shoulder and the skull-and-comet tattoo on the left side of his chest. As much as some things change, though, plenty stays the same. It might be almost a foot higher than it was but Nik’s face definitely stayed the same. Pale skin, sharp facial features, and deep green eyes could easily look unfriendly (especially with his new build) but they’re softened by a friendly, irreverent demeanor. He smiles a lot more than you’d expect from an ODST, let alone a Spartan. Nik keeps a clean shave aside from the occasional five o’clock shadow depending on how busy he’s been, and his brown hair is kept medium length though not always tidy. Rank: Spartan Personality: Friendly, laidback, self-assured, and easygoing; all of the words you would not expect to apply to someone who’s been among the most effective operatives in the UNSC for the better part of a decade. But nine times out of ten, before his augmentation, Nik’s first impressions ran contrary to preconceptions. That’s a lot harder now, but he would say all the more important for it. Don’t want to become as frightening to the guys on your side as the ones against, you know? In another time and place he would have lived a pretty peaceful life, but born five years into the Human-Covenant war didn’t leave many options. It’s when he becomes focused, on whatever has his attention, that it becomes clear why he is where he is. Nikolai can be driven in the extreme when he sets his mind to something, and considers success an inescapable fact. It’s only a matter of how you have to get there. Nonetheless Nikolai is more capable and much more intelligent than he tends to let on despite his informal education, and maintains the utmost respect for his colleagues and peers. He never had the institutional distaste for the Spartans his fellow ODSTs tended towards, maybe because ONI had been using them to boost morale by the time he joined the outfit. He does, however, have an intense and occasionally problematic mistrust of former Covenant species and soldiers. Nothing that discipline doesn’t curb, but the Martian finds it difficult to remember that they were trying to kill him for his entire life. Background: Nikolai Markov was born on June 19th 2529 on Mars, and knew nothing but war until it ended. Papers will probably be written about the psychological impact of growing up under the shadow of a war for survival on such a massive scale, but Nik didn’t understand any of it. But he grew up scared because in the shipbuilders’ neighborhood he was raised everyone was scared. Under the weight of such existential dread the young man acted out, getting into all sorts of trouble. Nothing serious, Nik was a good kid at heart. But he would break into places he wasn’t supposed to, get access to information he wasn’t supposed to have, anything he could do to benignly try and draw attention to himself. It went on for years, until he broke into a supposedly secure office (and server) at his local UNSC office and nearly got himself a juvenile record. Cutting it that close finally nudged him a few degrees back onto the straight and narrow, and more importantly finally gave him a focus. On June 19th 2547 Nikolai Markov enlisted in the UNSC Navy. After a long night of celebrating, drinking, and saying goodbye to the neighborhood he grew up in he shipped out to UNSCN basic training the next day. Almost on day one he lobbied for a shot at the grueling, volunteer-only recruitment process for the renowned Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. About two years later he got it. No matter how tough he expected it to be he couldn’t have prepared himself for the reality. The training was designed to push him to the absolute limit, and it succeeded. Not everyone who applied made it. His own standards and the humiliation of being Returned to Unit kept him going and at the course’s end Nik was among its graduates. Then-PFC Nikolai Markov was initially assigned to the 105th Shock Troopers Division, serving under a former special forces marksman for his first few drops. He showed a real knack for sabotage and reconnaissance, remembering his youth and gathering any additional information from behind and between enemy lines that wasn’t nailed down. His career brought him to the defense of New Alexandria during the Fall of Reach, and later operations during the Battle for Earth that truly proved his mettle. At the war’s end a good many problems still needed the none-too-gentle touch of an ODST fireteam, and Nik was happy to oblige. Many of those solutions took a liberal application of black ink and Nik found himself co-opted by ONI’s own plans on occasion. Four years after the war’s end, the Office of Naval Intelligence offered to put his talents to permanent use. A free ride through university, and a guaranteed job with a hefty security clearance attached. Spartan Operations, around the same time, offered him a chance at augmentation. The choice wasn’t hard. Equipment: A charcoal suit of Helljumper armor topped by a LOCUS helmet rounds out Nikolai’s only permanent set of equipment. At least according to Madrigal’s registry system. The suit manifestly is not the armor it is registered as, bearing no manufacturers’ markings, no serial number, and a blackboxed BIOS. Whatever its origin the suit— labeled ‘Recluse’ in its interface— is built to the GEN2 standard, with signs of upgrading towards the GEN3 standard under development. A M6H2 Tactical Magnum is usually attached to the magnetic strip on his right thigh, with several extended magazines stored on his person, but his primary (or tertiary) equipment rotates depending upon mission specifications. The helmet’s passive cyberintrusion package, battlenet cache, and multiple video feeds make for unparalleled battlefield awareness. What his linked teammates see, he sees and through skill or assistance he parses that information into the context of his own person. Nikolai travels light; eleven years service makes it an ingrained habit. His armor, his sidearm, and personal effects that can fit into a UNSC standard locker. The only other items he brought aboard with him are a Brute Spiker and a Sangheilli energy sword, both of which are kept in his locker rather than prepared for active duty. Not like he could reload the Spiker anyway, could he? Skills: Nikolai excels in neutralizing hostile entities and hostile technology, by force or subterfuge. The former is really pretty simple. Nik’s first ODST fireteam leader drilled the unit on marksmanship endlessly, and it stuck. He’s versed in the operation and proficient in the use of almost all UNSC firearms, and he was a crack shot before augmentation. After undergoing the procedures it would be more notable if he missed. The latter is more nuanced; Nik has spent his professional career building on the intrusion skills he learned as a youth, and may be among the better cyberintrusion specialists in his current branch of service by now. His armor assists, of course, but the Martian has a certain innate knack for turning enemy or unaligned electronics to suit his own purposes. And after a stint doing asymmetrical warfare as an ODST, a learned proficiency for simply blowing up resources he can’t utilize. Flaws: As dedicated and effective an operative as he is, Nikolai has two evident flaws. His mistrust of the Elites and other species formerly a part of the Covenant and an unrelenting perfectionist streak. For all his laidback mannerisms Nikolai allows himself no slack or quarter and it impacts his ability to effectively delegate tasks that don’t require his personal attention. Any failures become personal failures, and personal failures he struggles to let go of. As a former enlisted man he also is of minimal use on the bridge of a ship, or in the operation of small craft. He can fly a Pelican in a pinch, but don’t expect an air show. He’s used to gravity doing the work for him, what do you really expect?
  2. Post coming up for the Po-Wahi Heist today or tomorrow. @Tarnchecking in with you real quick to make sure you don't want me to wait for you to post first.
  3. GM IC: "oop!" Gravity reasserting itself is never fun. Sentinel training included, at least once, experiencing what it's like to have gravity messed with. One of the most fundamental forces in the world, and a small but significant number of people could mess around with it. It's disorienting, it's nauseating, it just plain sucks. When it comes back you wind up smacked onto the floor. Which is exactly what happened. There wasn't much time for the Hau, and it wouldn't have helped. She hit the deck, catching herself on her other forearm to avoid breaking her nose on the floor. “Hey! Could you keep it down?! We can’t hear ourselves think! Thank you.” "You're welcome," She grumbled instinctively— before realizing she was being thanked by one of the troublemakers. Nui, that wasn't a great look. "Ugh." Karmine got a reprieve for the moment. The whole car was metal, avoiding shocking the wrong person was easy when all the lightning needed was a little nudge. With him in the air it crackled dangerously between his feet and the surface— probably inflicting tissue damage on said soles, electricity was rough— but it slowed and abated. The Toa was still essentially tethered by the chain now partially melted onto his arm. "Sir, this is your final warning." She snarled. "I have no desire to kill you. But the next shock'll be for effect." @Morgan Yu@Tarn *** Yup, someone was definitely down there. The grunt followed by an impact spoke to that. However... Nota reached out with his element, searching for the telltale magnetic affinity found on the gear used everywhere on the island. Inside of the space between cars it should have been easy to spot. But it wasn't, and that meant his quarry was no longer in that space. The Mahi's metal skin made it possible for him to traverse it, but it also made those traces of affinity much harder to spot. Consciously or not he'd been camouflaged. So he was forced to resort to his brain. He didn't see him move back to the next car, or fall off. Both would have been visible. He'd have heard if he opened the entrance to the car below. So he clung, in some manner, to one of the three sides of the car adjacent. Ahead, by the door, or to the left or right. Figuring that out got a lot easier when the Vortixx— Kohra— shouted a question. He could see where she was looking. So the Sergeant lowered himself down, magnetizing his hands as well as his feet to the surface, and crept slowly towards the edge. Stay low, assess, then act. @Void Emissary@oncertainty@Vezok's Friend *** "You're committing a felony as a favor?" The Lesterin looked confused, troubled. She lowered her voice conspiratorially when the Skakdi came back, shooting worried looks towards the engine. "Baz, that crazy Toa's trying to kill people." @Perp
  4. IC: "Appreciate that, ma'am," The Sergeant said solemnly, without condescension. "Don't really like people getting hurt doin' my job, though. Appreciate it if you could make your back to the back of the carriage and proceed into the second passenger car where—" A loud groaning, creaking sound drew his ear. The Toa's head snapped towards the rear of the train. The Sentinels' presence was, most of the time, a safeguard against disaster. Or at least a first response to it. When he trained for this assignment the boss arranged for a demonstration of most of the many, many things that could go wrong and none of them were good. Not when you could hear them from the outside. "Sorry, miss, bigger fish. Your grip will hold for a couple minutes." The Sergeant crouched, a coiled spring ready to go, and added. "Please expedite your trip inside, and keep yourself and the other passengers safe. We'll make it up to all of you. Somehow." He pushed off, loosely oriented towards the rear of the Mahi, and let physics take over. Stuck to the train, identical speed. In the air? Wind resistance slowed him faster than the train. A little magnetic repulsion to keep him off the surface, reverse the charge, and— He landed nimbly at the rear of the second passenger car, stuck easily to its surface on three points. Low and controlled. Whatever was going wrong down here, it was probably between these cars. So poke it with a stick. A dagger off his belt, flipped once in the hand, and tossed underhand down into the gap between the cars. See what happened. @Vezok's Friend@oncertainty *** "No, no, of course not! No." The Lesterin smiled shakily, sheepishly. "Does... Does that pay well? Being a bodyguard?" @Perp *** The sound she made, yanked off her feet, was perhaps less the rough and tumble Sentinel and more like... She wouldn't call it a squeak. Certainly not. But it might have sounded kind of started, followed by a little nausea as gravity suddenly changed. Not nearly enough to keep her from activating her mask and avoiding a meeting with the roof, though the Hau still had to do business with physics; she let out a little oof when her acceleration stopped suddenly. "Well, color me shocked." She hissed with the smell of ozone in the air. Karmine might— might— have had a split second to spy the copper inside the chain before the whole length became electrified. It didn't even have to be directed; the enemy Toa was the fastest, most efficient path to the ground. Not enough voltage to kill— she was a Sentinel, and a Toa at that— but more than enough to leave him a scorched, convulsing mess on the engine room floor. @Tarn@Morgan Yu *** The two stowaways, emerging from their hiding place, found themselves in a cargo car. Enormous shock. Rows of crates, stacked in an orderly fashion on racks if they were small and on the floor otherwise. Labeled, tied down, and secured for the trip. If they could see that far— no one was anticipated to be in the cargo hold on a regular sort of basis, and no one wanted to be easy to rob. There were no windows, only regularly spaced lights high on the walls to illuminate the space. They cast long, irregular shadows between the crates and pallets. They were also, for the moment, alone. @~Xemnas~@BULiK
  5. GM IC: "Kohra," The Sergeant drawled slowly, tilting his head just a fraction of a degree. "Well that definitely sounds like our boys. Yes ma'am, I'd say I'm the help. First thing's first. You alright?" @Vezok's Friend *** "Very bad." The Lesterin agreed shakily. "Um, what's your name? If you can tell me. Might be... Be a little more comfortable, you know?" @Perp *** CRACK! CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! "Assault with intent," The Toa's voice might have quavered for just a moment, watching five metal diskettes bounce off of the shield before her. Each impact triggered a quick ripple across the invisible spherical surface, bright and shimmering. Whatever hesitation there might have been eroded quickly with each word filling up with energy and resolve. She was a Sentinel, there were standards to live up to! "No further warnings required per Article II. Surrender, or I will utilize whatever force required!" The Sentinel shook her wrist, loosening a length of fine linked chain threaded through with copper. She flicked it at Karmine, a small, dense weight at the end visible for just a second, and the chain shot forth like a striking serpent... And wrapped itself unerringly, impossibly, around the outstretched wrist and forearm that held Karmine's weapon. The links constricted painfully tight, an iron grip on the other Toa's arm. @Tarn@Morgan Yu OOC: Post for the rear of the train in a bit for you guys, @~Xemnas~and @BULiK. That'll take me a little longer.
  6. IC: "Situation report," The Toa enunciated, slowly and patiently. A quick twitch of his fingers secured the Vortixx more readily to the roof- magnets were pretty nifty- and he gestured with the same finger to the roof below his feet. "Been a son of a Brakas before, but I don't think I've been associated lately. Sarge Nota, Sentinels, here to thump some bad guys." "If you could point 'em out, that'd sure make it easier Miss...?" IC: The Iron Mahi's engine isn't as big as you might think. Rather, the engine is exactly as big as you think but the room for its engineers is rather smaller. Most of what would be useful space on a passenger or cargo car is taken up by the Mahi's engine itself, leaving a control room a little less than half the length of a standard car and only about three quarters as wide. Little hatches and alcoves, accesses to service spaces for the Mahi, dotted the walls and floor. The far wall consisted almost entirely of controls and gauges. Except, of course, for the Toa of Lightning standing between the intruders and there. "Halt!" She pointed accusingly. "This area is off limits to passengers. Return to your seats!" @Tarn@Perp@Morgan Yu
  7. IC: Turn the clock back a few minutes. Come to that, turn the calendar back a few years. Makuta is still alive and well. The Po-Koro Guard has been on watch for a long, long time even before Pohatu and the First Toa showed up. A hundred rough years after they disappeared the Po-Koro Guard is on watch still. Some changes in that time, sure. One Toa became a bunch. Lots of other kinds of people start showing up. But the Guard is the Guard, and it keeps doing the same thing it's been doing since forever. Then six Rahkshi break down the front door, kill a bunch of people, and a kid is promoted to Colonel overnight. Some people have all the luck. Then a pirate chucks a living bomb into your headquarters, blows up the place, kills a bunch of your personnel, and kidnaps your Turaga. Your Turaga gets kidnapped again. Then assassinated. And then a Rahkshi army kicks down the door you just fixed and a lot more people die. Your local sports legend gets made Akiri and has to figure out what to do about this. For whatever reason the Kolhiihead decides to try and match the Ta-Koro Guard and rebrands along the way. Now the Guard is the Sentinels instead. Being an athlete and not a general, your new political lord and master doesn't really get that making up the numbers doesn't mean much by itself. You've just diluted the core competency that you had. But at least your Captain understands that, and yadda-yadda-ing your way past a whole lot of politics you get a new Akiri who at least knows what she doesn't know. The civilian side of things is great, and aside from some weird decisions like making a Po-Koro navy the Captain gets to have the freedom to run things the way they need to run. But the Cap'n's still faced with a pretty big experience deficit, and more territory to protect than ever. What do you do about it? Well, you get smart. "Look like you could use a hand, ma'am," A voice, barely audible over the rushing air and the clacking train, preceded a hand being offered towards Kohra. The rough looking Toa, in comparison, was not hunched or prone on the train's roof; he almost looked to be at ease, except for the foot planted behind him to brace against the wind. His feet were stuck to the roof as easy as he'd have stood on the ground. "I could use a bit of a sit-rep. Fair 'nough?" Take your competent, disciplined core. Ruthless opposition cost you some great ones, officers who should've gone on for a long time, but it's cut out the deadwood too. Cowards court-martialed for desertion, or resigned. Incompetents killed in action or relieved during the reorganization. What's left is solid. You take a census. And you cross-assign. Because competency is contagious. Three two-guard teams on board the Mahi. Even numbers keeps anyone from going it alone, but makes it easy to organize by experience. Now we turn the clock to those last few minutes. Experience says, firstly, that whoever controls the engine controls the train. Soon as the engineers raised an alarm the duo up front got ready. Two at the back, with the stuff someone might want to steal, and two in the middle to patrol. SOP, easy and by the book. Experience also says, though, that if you're letting someone take a fair fight you're not cheating hard enough. Goes double when you're hauling something as sensitive as what he had out back. *** "E-Excuse me?" One of Baz's maligned cardboard cutouts, a nervous looking Lesterin, piped up diffidently. No one had told her to keep her hands up but she'd done it as soon as the commotion began. Now they were beginning to droop, clearly tired of holding the same position. "Um, y-you guys can do whatever you want. But can I put my arms down now?" OOC: At Silvan's request I'm taking over the NPCs for the train heist. So, attention heist crew and @Vezok's Friend, @Perp, @Tarn, and @oncertaintyspecifically.
  8. IC: Krayn wasn't so sure of the other Toa's estimation of his will. He didn't think the man lied, or that he doubted his own estimate for a second. The trouble was that after everything he had seen, and been through, he was less certain. It seemed in his eyes that even the best could fall to temptations less virulent than whatever the Necromancer had unleashed in Ko-Wahi. But he'd had his say, and he hadn't been swayed. "If you're set on it, there are a few things you should know." He directed his eyes towards the Mangai, and the cable car he knew would lead to Ko-Wahi. "The Rahi are much more aggressive than they have been in a long while. Muaka have been prowling the Wastes again. Fire doesn't scare them off the same way. Be careful of that. If you find the lair, and it connects to tunnels, you should stay out of them. The Darkwalk is more dangerous than it was." "Best of luck." @a goose
  9. IC: Sinshi's brows rose questioningly, latching onto the last minute substitution, but she didn't ask. Not from any real restraint but because the matter was overshadowed more and more with each step down the docks. Her spine stiffened by degrees, shoulders pulled back, and she unconsciously tugged at her jacket as though determined to twitch out any imperfections. Casual ease began to retreat into stiff formality. She scanned the docks, resorting to a visual search rather than trying to parse the jumbled voices and feelings of the mental plane.
  10. IC: "That's a fair question." Kiyaku's footsteps slowed a minute while she considered. "In truth, there isn't truly such thing where they are from. Other clans, perhaps, but no true outsiders. If you were a Skakdi I might expect some tension. As it is I think they may merely be curious." "If someone causes trouble, I will address it." The Menti smiled faintly. "Not that I expect you will need the help."
  11. IC: Nihonei was not a person of violence. Despite being a part of the warrior caste, despite her training, despite her intellectual understanding of the necessity a sense of violence wasn't really in her. Her resolve was strong. Her commitment to her people was unwavering. But something inside her, some instinct, some block inside her kept her from wishing injury on another. It made her hesitate. It made her reluctant to go for the jugular, to go into a fight willing to disassemble her foe if it came down to it. But that had been before the Rahkshi. That had been before she saw so many of her friends die. Brilliant minds driven mad, driven to despair, or simply extinguished in the face of a foe they could never have prepared for. That was before her places of peace and contemplation were smashed, her people were driven from their home to uncertain safety and she had spent weeks trying to survive. She had been pushed so far. There was so little left. So little hope. And that something in her broke in the moment her eyes locked with the Tajaar. Every Eiyu was a half, a part of a whole. Complete on their own, perhaps, but not truly whole without that other piece. Nihonei only wanted to work out whatever issue this Lii had. She hadn't realized until this moment how angry she was. How much of her own rage had bubbled under the surface, how much she had held it back, forced herself to continue being the Toroshu of a clan that might no longer exist when all she really wanted to do was scream her pain loud enough to raise the Spirit that had so clearly abandoned them. She didn't want to communicate, she didn't want to understand, she wanted to fight. She wanted to win. The hunger for violence flickered on the mental plane, along the bond that she shared with her sister, and she leaned into it. Enveloped herself in it. Asked herself, without conscious thought, what Saritsu would do. She would fight. She would cheat. There was no fair fight. You were trying to win, or you were playing and Nihonei was not playing and she was not tying her hand behind her anymore. She would go until Lii was on the ground, she was, or the old Datsue called the bout. Her ribs cracked ominously, even slowed by the force she exerted with her sister's discipline. That should have been alarming. Should have hurt. But that thought was pushed back, distant, and she wrapped her arm around the leg that struck her. Held it fast. She slammed her bladed hand down on the Tajaar's knee and knew absently that a full throated roar was tearing its way out of her mouth. She released the Tajaar's leg and, to Lii's eyes, simply disappeared. @Void Emissary@Razgriz
  12. IC: "Are you that person?" Krayn had listened, scratching at his chin as he thought it over. His first, immediate impulse was that Pirok was right. He was an investigator, he was a guard; no one would ever know how many lives Echelon had taken, and no one would ever know how many bodies he had stolen. But his lair was the one place to find some. Some of those people could be brought home, and some of their loved ones— if any still lived— could have that closure. But it was more complicated than that. Not knowing was awful, but time had a way of providing its own closure. Not every missing persons case was resolved. Not even most. The jungle was a harsh place when Makuta reigned, and many of those that went missing were lost somewhere in its depths. If anything was left to find it wasn't recognizable anymore. And a great many of Echelon's puppets were likely in a similar shape. The Necromancer had been infamous, and in his infamy stories had spread; he was always merely content with a puppet, he wanted puppets tailored to his purposes. Even those that could be recovered might not be... Intact. Sometimes knowing specifics was worse than accepting that you wouldn't know. "I can't fault your wishes," He said slowly. "And you are of course free to do what you want. So is Makua, here, as is Skyra. But I think Rynekk is right, and I would urge you to consider that he might be. Ko-Wahi is a deeply inhospitable place. A few months of snow and ice may already have hidden it, and a few more will for certain. You may not be able to find it. You risk your own lives just looking. Even if you can find it you don't know what's inside. If you find it and there are no traps to be dealt with, how will you get those victims to civilization? How will you get them to their families? The cold's preservation will not last as soon as you leave the Wahi." He shook his head, slowly and not without sympathy. "And Makuta is back. If he wasn't I would be more encouraging. But braving the wastes, the Rahi under his power again, and trying to return an unknown but sizable cargo... Sometimes it's best to let the past stay buried. It won't return the dead to their families. You can help them better by keeping them from losing any more." @a goose@Emzee@Void Emissary@Snelly
  13. IC: "I doubt it's anything critical about Echelon. He's been dead for a few months now." Krayn raised an eyebrow. "His followers escaped, but the Necromancer is long gone."
  14. IC: "They may be back at the dock by now, or we may have to wait a time." Kiyaku tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something only she could hear, before she began walking. "We'll get you introduced, then we'll sail for Ga-Koro. I'm given to understand that is the place for any naval supplies."
  15. IC: "Enough." Krayn drew in a breath with the air of someone counting to ten inside, reminding himself of vows to be friendlier, and asking Mata Nui for patience all at the same time. At first he had been content to let the situation work itself out. Skyra and Praggos, he had already determined, could go on and on between them for a long while if you let them. But Praggos almost always got tired of the back and forth before she did. However this 'Pirok' was a new element, an unforeseen catalyst; the three of them seemed capable of going on forever. He had spent the past few minutes systematically turning the dial lower and lower and lower but with no true end in sight it was time to step in. "Enough, already. Whether he was or wasn't— and he definitely wasn't— stop confusing each other. It's bad enough when you get confused, Skyra, but that's at least familiar." It was exactly as hot as he remembered, and he was beginning to regret choosing to take his coat along. But the cool breeze for Praggos' benefit was helping quite a bit. Mostly he suspected it was just lack of practice. Ko-Wahi had been cold, and he hadn't stayed for very long in Po-Wahi before leaving again. And the heat had nothing to do with the dull ache beginning near his temples. "Mister Makua, if you have other questions I have no problem answering them. Mister Pirok," The tall Toa pointed casually with the finger that had just been rubbing lightly at the side of his head. "I'm sorry to break up your reunion. But I assume you had a reason for finding Daring? You said so, at least. Before you got sidetracked." @a goose@otter@Snelly@Emzee
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