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ARROW404

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Everything posted by ARROW404

  1. IC: Lapu - Outside the Takea The tall, plant-matter-covered Toa reached down a little after Kanohi finished showing his message, and touched the tablet, a little trickle of his elemental power restoring the wood, effectively erasing the message so a new one could be carved into it. That done, he turned his attention more to the enormous plants that some of the town was made out of. He was not very familiar with aquatic plants, and wandered just a couple bio away to study their structure with his elemental power, experimentally changing the color of a Matoran's house's wall without fully realizing it, to a deep reddish-purple found on some fruit trees. He rubbed his chin. He had been going for a brighter color. IC: Kimala - same place The burly Toa of Crystal read the tablet quickly, and murmured the word "Seprilli" to herself. She knew very little about it, only the rumors about Skakdi and Lesterin regaining memories. She unfortunately had nothing to contribute to the peculiarly-armored Matoran's inquiries, and she doubted anyone in Timak's group did either. @Harvali @ARROW404 @Mel @Lady Takanuva @Tarn @BULiK @~Xemnas~ @BBBBalta @Umbraline Yumiwa @Rahisaurus @Snelly
  2. @Mel @Visaru @Nato G @Snelly @Smudge8 @ARROW404 @Zeal @Sparticus147@Geardirector IC: Gashril - Assaulting Fort Garsi Looks could often kill on Zakaz. Gashril's looks weren't one of those that could, though, lucky for Zanakra. She had a hard time- and precious little of said time- figuring out what was going through her new boss lady's head just then. Had she picked her crew up for just this? Were they going to end up just being fodder for this attack? Why was their fearless (in the bad sense) leader standing in the middle of the attack if that were the case though? Was she just that desperate to have this fort? She had more pressing matters on her hands though. The battle was joined, whether she liked it or not. She rubbed her neck. She had one, maybe two sonic blasts left in her. If she held back a while, she might coax out a third after a little recovery. She swore under her breath, now wishing she had taken Zanakra up on her offer for a Sarke match. She cursed again. It was time to act, not think! The crew she had surrendered to Zanakra nevertheless looked to her. She nodded and pointed her sword toward the fort. They were doing this. At least for now. "Seeker," she rasped, then pointed to T'harrak, "She wants iron. Give it to her." Jojax didn't stick around for a plan, so he would do instead. "Lookout," she called for her Skakdi of Air companion- the one who had been harassing Jojax earlier, but was looking quite serious now- "Find me a target on the walls." He nodded and sprinted off to the side, then stopped, staring intensely at the walls, before quickly diving back to her side. "Stone Skakdi on the ramparts," he told her, pointing to the spot on the walls. He pointed two others off, before she nodded and gestured for him to move out. She nodded at the rest of the crew, those with ranged weapons and laser or heat vision firing into the building. Taking a step back from the front line, she grabbed her Gravity companion. "I'm going for a look. Hold on to me, and call my name if I'm needed." He nodded and shrugged her up onto his back, while she squinted toward the building. Her vision swam, darkening, before reforming and seeing herself, along with the rest of the Razorfish warband below. Some sort of weapon off to the side, firing off chunks of stone. No, not off to the side, held by the Stone-powered individual. And grenades too, at that. A lot of them, which she watched explode prematurely as Lugnoz and Ythrok combined their powers into a wave of lightning-infused plasma that set them off both prematurely and unevenly, dulling their explosive power drastically. Gashril held her gaze through the eyes of the sentry, watching for any hints she could use to her advantage. Seeker, the Skakdi of Iron, arrived at T'harrak's side. "I've got iron, how can I help?"
  3. IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive Back Room To say the Ko-Matoran was listening with rapt attention would have been quite the understatement. As a student of knowledge, this opportunity to learn about something hitherto unknown was captivating. As a student of history, his excitement bubbled at the idea of the potential alliance- or at least pooling of resources- that may come of this meeting, and its effect on the future. As a Matoran who wished to see evil purged from the island, he rejoiced in the thought of a weapon turned against evil, or of a cure for the weapon employed by the agents of chaos. And, as the owner of the library they stood in, he was more than a little excited it was happening here. Unfortunately, he had nothing and less to contribute to the conversation itself. And so he listened, excitement registering only in the glow of his eyes as they flitted from one speaker to the next.
  4. IC: Yoka - Oki, Abandoned village Yoka's eyes passed from one member of the trio to the other as they were introduced, and made quick mental notes of which was which. She had no precise intentions, but the odds were, they could help one another. The male- Ahri's- use of Vulgar Taa gave her pause. She had to repeat what he said to herself after he said it before she registered the words themselves. How long had it been since she had heard her language? It was a slightly different dialect, subtly different vowel sounds, but recognizable, and more than a little nostalgic. She wasn't sure how to react to that, and she couldn't communicate with Ikyazu without potentially giving herself away. The one called Raika spoke next, breaking Yoka from her train of thought. She nodded in response. Another wanderer. Then the last one asked the question Yoka herself had been wondering. She shook her head. "No, I arrived here last night and took shelter." She glanced about the empty settlement behind her, then back, eyes resting on Ahri once more, the gears turning in her head. His garb was in even worse shape than hers, no clan alignment discernible. Was he Taajar, then, to speak their language? He lacked the accent, though. Should she ask? She needed more time to think, before the silence could grow awkward. Ikyazu folded her arms pensively. In her ghostly state, she had been unable to follow the Ideatalk portion of the brief exchange.「Ask them about the refugees,」she suggested. "You mentioned refugees?" OoC: I just realized I confused myself. Ikyazu was actually the one who was supposed to be in control. It's too late to change now though, so I'll roll with it.
  5. @Keeper of Kraata IC: Yoka - Oki, Abandoned village She stopped her approach at the defensive response, standing relaxed and non-threatening. Seeing how on-edge they were- and although she kept her Willhammer touch light and unintrusive, she could feel a surprising amount of emotion emanating from one of them- she kept her feet spread evenly, at least ready to run if need be. "Ikyazu," she answered the question, giving the name she and her ghost had agreed to use- it was the name associated with the body, after all. "I am nobody. I was once someone, but the sons of Zataka took that from me." Her eyes did not move as the 'real' Ikyazu drifted into her vision, observing the group more closely, watching for danger.
  6. IC: Yoka - Oki, Abandoned village Yoka straightened slightly at the Ideatalk call. "They noticed me," she whispered. "I will approach." Ikyazu nodded her affirmation and drifted above, observing as Yoka piloted their body toward the beach. She made no effort to remain stealthy, letting the butt of her glaive, and the soles of her feet meet the ground with enough sound to let the gathered group hear her before they could see her. .:Apologies for the intrusion,:. she sent, as she rounded the bend into their view. Those looking her way would be greeted with the sight of what had formerly been a well-dressed and well-trained Menti, who had clearly been dragged through the wringer for some time. Her armor was patched decently at best, and the clothes supplemented with what someone else had left behind. What clothing belonged to her original outfit bore Eiyu colors. .:I was merely making sure I saved my approach until I felt everyone was calm.:.
  7. The BZPRPG recently-ish introduced a new species, the Draconic Mystix, and I wanted to get into some of that action! The wing membranes are purely decorative, and clearly not attached to the body itself. If it existed in set form, it would likely make use of cloth. I based the head on a scaled-down approximation of the Tahtorak, and just kind of went ham for the rest. Oh, here it is, fighting a Rock Lion! And for good measure, a close-up of the head. The main head part is the Ash Bear head custom piece from Galva's custom Stud.io pack. The jaw, as you can see, is made with System parts, attached via clips to a bar piece inside. Hope you like it! His name is Tavo'ssa. You get a like if you understand the reference!
  8. This is way too dang neat, this has to be illegal somewhere
  9. IC: Lumune - Ostia streets The trapper meandered, in no rush, from the butcher's, where she had sold off her catch, a few widgets heavier now. She noticed a tech emporium flyer stuck to a wall and gave it a cursory once-over. She had just been there a few days ago and gotten what she needed, but again, she wasn't in a rush, so why not satisfy a little idle curiosity? She also cast her eyes about the street as she walked, examining the wares on display for things that might be useful, or just nice to have. A few cloaked figures slipped past, though she paid no mind to them. IC: Idas - Ostia desert-side entrance The lion pointedly ignored the looks cast his way, curling up instead for a short nap in the shade. An errant breeze made that difficult though, as a bizarre scent made him shiver. It was distant, but too close for comfort. Ears flicking upward, he sat up and watched for the source of the scent. Antidermis. Rahkshi? He growled lowly.
  10. IC: Yoka - Oki, Abandoned village 「Hold.」 Yoka stopped, at Ikyazu's request. 「Best not to startle them. Wait here.」 She did so, standing in the road, a ways away from the group assembled on the beach, presently out of sight, but not hidden.
  11. IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive back room The Ko-Matoran withheld a wince at Muir's venomous words, though his jaw did tighten a touch, nervously glancing between the Toa. So she was a member of the Cultured Gentry. A couple of their members were regulars at the library, though beyond their taste in fine literature and philosophy, he knew little. Despite running a fine enough establishment, he was still what most would consider working-class. His mind drifted a moment to his ongoing investments though, Syzygos's copy crystals, and the Ko-tatsus he had ordered... With some well-placed words, he might find his way into the upper crust's good graces. Just an idle thought, though. He quite enjoyed his current business. Some enhancements would just be nice. He blinked the thought away and carried on listening in silence.
  12. IC: Gashril The former leader of the Tahtorak band brought up the rear of the group, having stopped back at her "throne" for something on the way out. She stayed quiet as she followed the group, not that she had much choice. The battle with Jojak played in her head, wondering how things would have gone had she acted differently. An all-out blast at the beginning, possibly enough to put her opponent out of commission from the start... Hmm, at the cost of an ally's hearing for several days. Throwing the match? Too many variable to know what kind of effect that would have had. Foregoing the sword? Her mind eventually turned to other things, examining the group they now comprised. She was surprised they had come with so few. This couldn't be all that Razorfish had to offer, could it? No, no group this small could hold a fort. She disguised her frown at the lack of Ga-Skakdi, too. You would think a water-based fort would be ripe with them. And again, the Nakihl caught her eye, getting the gears turning. A warlord that accepted openly practicing Nakihl? It was too soon to make any real judgment calls, but this was an interesting troupe, for sure. Her musing was cut off at their fearless leader's cocksure suggestion. Gashril tried not to gawp. She wasn't serious was she? Attacking a rival fort with a bunch of fresh recruits? Well okay, they weren't green by any measure, but they'd had no time practicing together to synergize their techniques. This was asking for a humiliating defeat... Oh, but what kind of weapon was that? Looked sophisticated... Snake-people tech? She withheld all her comments though. Right now, assessing the situation was most important.
  13. IC: Balian - Kanohi Dragon Forge Truth be told, he was a little disappointed the Toa was heading out. Granted, he would finish the mask quicker this way, but the chat had been pleasant. Rain check, then. Setting down his staff, he stepped up to return the bump with one of his own. He couldn't remember every having done one before, but the gesture felt familiar. Nostalgic, even. Another little relic of his past, he imagined. "Will do, lad. What ye say we plan ahead? Me mates an' I gather at Pumice Pord's Pub most evenin's. Name a day that works for ye and we'll see each other then."
  14. IC: Balian - Ta-Koro, Kanohi Dragon Forge "Yeah, that's what I've been telling myself..." The mask maker observed the Toa out of the corner of his eye as he finished the riveting process only a Ta or Pa being could do. The Toa wasn't convinced, and Balian could understand that, even if he felt differently himself. He fetched two long, roughly triangular pieces of metal and clamped them onto the 'jaw' portion of the mask now, setting to cut the same holes and set the same rivets as the decorative forehead plate. He was about to comment when Jolek rose and counted out some widgets. The Turaga sat for a moment in puzzled silence, wondering what those were for, until the guard offered them to him. "For the trouble." Balian barked a friendly laugh, "It's no trouble a' all, Jolek. Way I sees it, we'e chums now. How about instead a payin' me like I'm ye landlord, ye buy me a pint some time instead, eh?" He set a rivet and melted it into place, adding more softly. "You don't sound convinced by wha' I said, an' I ain't surprised. Iss noffin ta be ashamed of. Ye made a decision based on wha' was goin' on around ye, and it turns out, long term, it weren't what ye were meant for. Happens all the time. If ye sure you're meant ta be elsewhere, then ya should go look for it. Tha'ss me take."
  15. @BULiK@Goose@Keeper of Kraata IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive, Ko-Koro The librarian's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. He hadn't expected such a well-dressed Toa to be involved. She wasn't a fighter, not a member of the Kalta. But he supposed she could still be a personal contact of Cyrix's. He had expected backup, albeit more combat-ready. "Oh, no, please enter," he welcomed, opening the door wider and stepping back. "Apologies for delaying you." He left it at that, and ushered her into the darkened library, showing her the way to the back room.
  16. It would be interesting, but both threads are really active, so I was hoping to maybe spice up another Wahi. Any of you guys have characters that aren't getting anything done at the moment?
  17. Got myself a dragon now. But where to put him is the question. What parts of Mata-nui could stand to be livened up with a sudden dragon?
  18. Keep up the good work, mate. Dang, too busy just to post? Hope he frees up soon, I'm interacting with two of his characters at the moment!
  19. IC: Yoka - Abandoned Oki Village 「I believe you have have been noticed,」came Ikyazu's whisper. Yoka's brow furrowed. That was... unlikely. Ikyazu caught the look impassively.「Regardless of what you may think, this is a good opportunity. They have calmed down, and are likely to move on soon. Attaching ourselves to them would improve our chances of survival.」 Yoka sighed. Survival. What point was there to survival when she had nothing to live for? Ikyazu sighed in turn, recognizing the look of resignation in Yoka's face. They had discussed this at length in the past. 「If you will not, then allow me.」 She nodded and activated the mask, drifting out of their body. Ikyazu took her place with practiced ease, and levered herself silently to her feet. "Observe them," she whispered, and Yoka's spirit drifted toward the strangers, ahead of her as she began to slowly approach them, crystal glaive held non-threateningly like a walking stick. OoC: @Keeper of Kraata @The UltimoScorp @Lady Takanuva Cleared some stuff up with a mod- The spirit form is detectable and affectable with Menti powers, but only if one knows they are there to be targeted in the first place. Spirits are also indeed unable to use their Menti powers, and their voices do come over IdeaTalk, but again, only if you know what to look for. Seeing them physically is still limited to bearers of masks that allow them to be seen, like Iden and Rode.
  20. IC: Balian, Ta-Koro "I signed on after the bombing, like a lot of people," "Mmmm..." the Turaga rumbled in recognition, nodded, mismatched white and green eyes meeting Jolek's. That had been a rough day for lots of people. The sort of event that defined a place, made a mark on its history. "I'd known Captain Angelus for a while before that, and always had taken up a bit of a vigilante streak to keep busy. Had ventured out towards Ga a little bit before that, but honestly hadn't ended up doing much on my own. Came home in time for the siege." Balian nodded again, remembering that terrifying moment. He'd considered slipping on a Kualsi and making a run for it at the time. Not his noblest moment, but what else was a Turaga to do? Give a Rahkshi's head a couple of whacks with the tip of his staff? During the explanation, he'd finished curving the sheet, and taken up his staff once again. using it to channel his flames into a narrow stream, essentially a plasma cutter, which he used to slice off two sections with practiced ease, in the precise shape of the indents on the mask. "During the bombing, I'd kind of just... Wandered into the alleyway facing the East side, a little after the explosion. Bunch of other people all lined up out there trying to smoke a couple of them holed up in there out, so I fell in with them— eventually they ran right into us. I owe the blue one a dent in the back of the head." He glanced up and caught the moment of emotion in the Toa's eyes, pausing for a moment, before continuing. "If I'd just been able to see the brakas..." "The buggers ya can't see 're always the hardest ta deal with," he commiserated, shaking his head. The one person you couldn't see with an Akaku was the one standing behind you. As the two slices of metal came off one at a time, he let them thud onto a wooden workbench, leaving behind the outer area that now was clearly the forehead region of the Miru, with the thin line running from front to back. "Well. After that, I figured that if I was gonna post up in a house around here and liked fighting anyway, I'd better join up officially. Be on call for when my buddy needs me. Help out since it's basically what I've got for a home, now that I'm outta the jungle." He glanced up at the mention of the jungle. Seems both of them must have spent a little while in Le-Wahi. The Toa huffed then, and Balian recognized the dissatisfaction there that he'd seen in Matoran and some other Toa at the pub, when they talked about how much greater they could be, somewhere else. Balian couldn't say he could relate, but he recognized it. He clamped the metal plate onto the side of his workbench, and picked up a box of rivets, and the base mask. "Except that kinda day hasn't really come. I'm just out on patrol trying to fill the time, because every shift's been feeling the ****** same. So do the roads... Bet the food would too, if I didn't go and catch it on my off time. Guess I've been doing some second-guessing." The mask maker clamped the mask and plate together at three points, where a contrast between the metals became evident. Where the base mask was the clear dull silver of a mask waiting to be put on by an elemental being, the plate was darker with a more polished sheen. With his staff, he flame-cut a series of holes through both layers with even spacing, and dropped a lighter silver rivet in each, waiting for the next step. "Second-guessin's normal," Balian said as he worked. "Folk like to pretend it ain't, but it is. Eeeeeeveryone has at least one moment where they feel ou'a place. Most 've several. They just tend not to talk abou' i'." He finished laying one side's rivets and switched to the other. "Way aye sees it, wai'in' for th'danger ta show up is exactly wot we got the bobbies for. Ya might feel wasted 'n all, bu' tha's 'cause it's workin, i'nit?" He looked up, cocking his head. "I know it ain't crackin' heads, bu' yeh doin' the same good as if ya were. Stoppin' the baddies, bu' before they gets up te no good." The rivets laid, he moved to the inside of the mask, carefully melting and shaping the base of said rivets to the insides of the mask, ensuring they were solidly attached. "Pu' another way: ya say "that kinda day hasn't really come", an' aye can't say for sure i' has, but I s'spect i' did. Or rather, i' would'a happened, if you an' the guard hadn't been there ta discourage i'. No doubt, Ta'd be Rahkshi food by now if ye weren't mannin' the walls." His accent had been getting progressively thicker. It was a habit. He started off more proper and intelligible, but the more comfortable he got with someone, the more his accent slipped in.
  21. IC: Balian - Ta-Koro "Funny how it works like that." The Mask Maker spared a glance at Jolek, making a brief attempt to figure out which aspect of who he was had stuck with him from before... well, before. Guard duty? Protecting others? Or maybe just scooting stools around using elemental energies, he thought humorously with a smirk. He still wasn't totally sure which the Toa was- silver was such a ubiquitous color. Magnetism or Iron were probably the best bet- Magnetism being the best match for his color. "Some days it feels like I'm lucky I knew my name when I hit the shore, but getting in dustups just... ran deeper. Never doubted it." Ahh, so it was fighting. He smirked, turning back to his trade, just slightly indenting the metal in the shape of the two sort of half-circle patterns. "Don't know I've rightly met a Toa who weren't made fer gettin' in scraps. Not all of 'em really take to it though. Can't say I can imagine meself doin' much of it before. Bu' who knows, eh?" "It's good to find a calling that quick, though. Happy for you." Balian offered the guard an appreciative smirk and a nod. That kind of heartfelt well-wishing didn't come easily to him, nor to anyone else he knew that well, really, so he didn't rightly know how to react. He did appreciate the sentiment though, even if he didn't say so out loud. Jolek then settled into a pensive silence, and Balian let his mind wander to questions he might carry the conversation on with, while his hands followed their practiced motions, finishing the outline of one half and beginning the other. Before he settled on a particular question though, Jolek spoke up again. "What's it like, seeing someone wear one of your masks?" he asked further on, taking a moment to glance back over his shoulder and towards the displays before returning his gaze to the craftsman. "Kinda like looking at a face you made?" The old smith examined his chisel for a moment while he pondered the question, then set back to work once more. "I 'spect I've come ta see masks differenly 'an most folk do. Vey ain't so much of a par'a someone as most fink. They're art, sure 'nough, but armor an' tools as well. So when I sees someone wearin' my work, mostly wha' I feel is pride. Pride knowin' I'm the one gave 'em the power an' good looks 'ey're wearin'. Ye'd fink a' first i''d be weird seein' yer 'andywork movin' an' lookin' about wiv minces- eyes, sorry- 'n a mouf 'n all, but nah. I 'spect it did feel weird the first time. But I don' rememba the first time!" he shrugged with a mirthful grin. He removed the mask from the clamp holding it in place, then set it aside, the two sections well and neatly outlined, but still at the same level as the rest. Instead of continuing, he set the mask aside entirely, and instead brought out a roughly triangular sheet of metal and set to heating it through with his staff. "Still though, there's that par'a me wha' gets all giddy inside, when I sees my work, ou' in the street. Makes me wan'a grab the nearest bloke 'n tell'im that's me work, 'n pass out cigars," he barked a laugh. The metal heated, he picked a wider hammer up and started to curve the metal plate around the curved side of the anvil. "My turn for a question, mm?" he asked, grinning up toward Jolek. "Wo'd it take ye to findja spo' in the guard? Wen' on an advencha first? Ran inta a patrol and got talked into it?" OoC: I hope the Cockney rhyming slang isn't too hard to follow when it slips in. I can stop using it if it's too much. Or else Jolek can act as confused as you feel, and get a little culture clash moment organically!
  22. IC: Balian - Kanohi Dragon Forge @Razgriz A little snicker slipped by the mask maker's lips at the Toa's expense. Not recognizing a joke? This one must not get out much. "Jolek. It's a pleasure, sir." "Pleasure's all mine," he returned with a wave of his hand after setting his staff back, then reached for his hammer and resumed his work on the details. Aerodynamics were the key for any Miru, although it was a matter of principle for the most part. Toa didn't order Miru anymore, they got Kadin instead. The Miru was loved for its shape more than anything, and that meant the orders- this one included- tended to be for powerless Matoran Kahoni. "My first time stopping in, but I feel like I always pass you by on my patrol." "Mmm..." Balian hummed in recognition. That's where he had seen him before, he was a guard then. Yes, that did seem to jog his memory a bit. He looked up again from his work and have the Toa a second once-over, matching it to a memory. "How long you been making masks, Balian?" He examined the curve of the face plates through his scopes again, determining it was done, before dunking it into the oil once more. "Oh, longer 'n I ken remember. Last clear thing I can remember is wakin' oop on the beach in frun'a a jungle. Wan'ered aroun', findin' my way, until I ended up hea, in Ta-Koro. Picked up a Franz," he said, waggling his hammer, "And pre'y quickly figga'd out I was made f'r it." He appreciated the question, honestly. He wasn't one of those old crotchety masters so devoted to their craft that to even breathe in their presence was disrespectful. He set down the ball-peen hammer and picked up a chisel, then, noticing Jolek was still standing, pointed out a stool tucked away in a corner. Then he set to etching the forehead into the two sections Miru always had. "Y'know how it is, us off-islanders, can't remember who we were before 'n all that. Sometimes I'll have dreams though. Vague things, but somewhere in there I'm always in my forge. A different forge though, one from before. Maybe as far back as when I was a Matoran. So, I ain't got a straight answer, but iss been a looooong time. I knew it from the moment I started here in Ta." He tapped his temple, looking up at Jolek once again. "Memories migh've left the loaf, but me ol' brasses never forget," he said with a confident grin, giving his knuckles a crack.
  23. IC: Kimala - Just outside the Great Takea, like everyone else The tall Toa of Crystal found herself just about dancing to try and not step on or run into someone as she followed the Matoran out, only to find herself in another crowd. She shot Timak an apologetic glance for contributing to what was likely sensory overload. "Why don't we keep moving and find a quieter spot?" she suggested. IC: Lapu The even taller Toa of Plants glanced down at the unexpected squeeze. A small smile touched his woody mask, accompanied by a nod of assurance. He wasn't overwhelmed, he just didn't like crowds. As such, he slowed his step as they approached, and folded his arms, standing a couple of paces back from the edge of the group. He didn't bother trying to follow the conversation- he'd just follow Kanohi or Hakari's lead once things had been hashed out. OoC: Well, I haven't had two of my characters meet face to face since Act 1! You're welcome for not indulging my urge to make Kimala and Lapu spend a whole paragraph each mentally complimenting the other.
  24. OoC: Not at all, in hindsight, I ought to have come up with the details of the shop myself, but alas, I was never one for purple prose. I didn't include it, because it didn't make much of a difference for me, after all! IC: Balian the Mask Maker, Kanohi Dragon Forge, Ta-Koro The boots at his door announced the knock before it came, and the well-practiced smith's strikes did not falter, though curiosity did cause his eyes for flick to the door momentarily at the timing of the knock. An observant fellow, whomever it was. "Cammon in," he called, loud enough to be heard clearly, but just under what would be considered a yell. His accent was quaint, and what some would consider 'lower class', and others would call 'neighborly'. He held his torch-staff to the mask as he observed the Toa who entered, maintaining the heat. Green-scoped, and natural silver eyes examined the details of the individual. A number of elemental possibilities sprang to mind at the muted color scheme- Iron, Magnetism, maybe even Earth or Gravity. Sonics was out of the question though- no earmuffs. He might've seen the boy about in the past. Rather, he was certain he had, but couldn't place where. They certainly had never spoken though. A face in the street, likely. "Yo," the customer said, youthful voice thrumming out from the lungs a little louder than normal to carry into the bright spot of the forge. "'Ello," Balian greeted back with a nod, before turning his face down to the mask again to resume hammering the unique aquiline features of the Miru. "Wa' can I do for ya?" "You mind if I watch for a bit?" The mask maker paused on his next strike, leaning back a little, his portly frame settling on the leg farther from the Toa whom apparently was in fact not a customer, brow furrowed lightly as he discerned whether he was serious or not. "Pardon the intrusion." The old codger's brow rose, and he nodded with a shrug, then held his hammer out as if pointing at the visitor. "No harm in it, as long as you're ready ta cough up some widgets. Show ain't free, ya know." He grinned, clearly jesting. "Nahhh, have a seat 'n take a load off, lad. Ma name's Balien if ye didn't already know that. Wass yours?" As he spoke, he turned back down to the mask, setting the hammer down to give it another little burst of heat.
  25. OoC: Time I finally officially joined Ta-Koro! IC: Balian the Mask Maker - Ta-Koro, "The Kanohi Dragon Forge" Ting! Ting! Ting! The Turaga lifted the mask with a pair of tongs and inspected it, the green lens of his Akaku widening as he focused, taking in the details of the metal in ways mere eyes could not. Surface irregularities imperceptible by the untrained were as clear as black and white to him. Or they would be, if there were any. And impurities under the surface could not escape the penetrating scope of his mask power. Again, there were none. He smiled in satisfaction and dunked the mask into a cauldron of cool oil, which hissed violently as hot met cold. The process was not yet finished though, so once more he picked up his staff and held it over his anvil as he placed the mask in place once more. What remained of the elemental power he had once possessed, long ago, heated the metal to his precise expectations. The green lens clicked shut, and the small red one clicked on, irregularities in the heat displaying for him alone to see. When it was ready, he picked up his ball peen hammer and took to lightly tapping at the softened metal, coaxing it into the precise optimal shape he had made a hundred times before. He would be at the task for the rest of the day yet, but already the distinct shape of a Miru could be discerned. One of the trickier shapes, but always a popular one. His smile persisted through his labor, happy as could be with the role he filled in Ta-Koro. One would be hard-pressed to find a Matoran, Toa, or Turaga more in their element than he was. OoC: Balian the Mask Maker is now open for business, and for interaction! Note, he doesn't usually sell the masks he makes, aside for commissions. His usual fare is sold by mask salesmen (some of which are happy) elsewhere.
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