Legolover-361

"I've always wanted to pinch a baseball player! It's good luck, you know."

IC: KynaeraMiddayGa-KoroKynaera was breathing too heavily to think; she just gripped the hand of the unknown Toa and allowed her to help her out of the water. Water drained from the chinks in Kynaera's armor, and her cloak, soaked full with water, stuck to her limbs and body; she blinked the salty moisture out of her eyes and waited for her bout of dizziness to subside."Thanks," she said, perhaps a bit tersely.There was a rush of water behind her, and she turned to see Greed engulfed by seawater on what remained of Ga-Koro's easternmost lily pad. Sloth was on his knees, wavering but furious. A standoff, then. Kynaera almost wanted to let it continue, but if Sloth was attacking Greed, she could act as tiebreaker.Her fingers curled tightly around her bladed staff like a large snake curls round its prey.She looked back at the Toa who had assisted her and nodded. "Maybe we'll talk later?" she suggested as her Kualsi began to glow. Why she said it, she wasn't quite sure; maybe it had been her old, innocent self speaking.

While that's certainly an intriguing idea, I believe it's canon that Lesovikk's hiatus takes place within the Matoran Universe in this timeline. You could make up your own little event that takes place in an alternate universe, but don't have any of Lesovikk's confirmed canon endeavors occur within an alternate universe, and don't go overboard with travels between alternate universes.Also, an announcement: The ending of the entry period shall be set to 12:00 PM EST, May 10. There will be no more postponements. If there is a lack of entries, I will determine how to work around it. I am still accepting judges in case this contest does receive a last-minute influx of entries.

"Together at last, they gazed off to the horizon, each wondering when the other would break the silence."

IC: KynaeraGa-KoroMiddayThe sequence of events was too quick for Kynaera to process it as more than a series of snapshots:Greed was gone. A rushing noise. The disintegration of the center of the lily pad. A shockwave of air and water. Liftoff. Blurs of debris and sea and sky.Only when Kynaera's heart ascended into her throat did she realize she had passed the apex of her flight.Instinctively, she nullified her mass. Her fall, due to her inertia, became a glide; twisting in midair, she shaped her body into a diving position and thus passed through the surface of the water.Kynaera was not an avid swimmer, but it was folly for someone of her former occupation to not learn how to swim.She blinked. The water stung her eyes, but she could deal with it; it was that or no vision at all, and Kynaera much preferred the former option.She spun, still underwater, and swam past the columns of light stabbing through the gloom. The currents could have been panicking for all she knew; they swept to and fro, shoving Kynaera in their haste. A few dead fish rested on the border of sea and air; a few smaller ones darted about Kynaera in flight.When her lungs began to burn and she surfaced for air, she suddenly realized her cloak would be soggy.OOC: I'll have Ky search for Greed tomorrow. It's too late for me to write such a post now, and I want Ky to do something.

I'm providing an offer for a couple volunteers to be Ena's companions on her grand romp past the Wild Hunt's camp and, hopefully, roundabout to the laboratory door. If no one's keen on volunteers, I can have Ena decide to make the mission solo. That is a punishment not even Huntsmen deserve. </maybesarcasm>

OOC: A Deputy Minister disappeared? I must've missed something in this topic.IC: VoloBar, Typewriter Town"I'm pretty sure you are old news," he said, "not to mention unimportant. As for important news... well, reporters are probably flocking to the Deputy Minister story like bees to honey. I don't want to be a dime-a-dozen reporter."Volo leaned against the back of his chair, his eyes still fixed on Adala's. She had the face of someone on the ropes, but he hadn't trapped her there; whatever had been said about her in the media obviously still affected her. Maybe she'd been the victim of a smear campaign -- yes, that was probably it, but Volo had never really paid attention to smear campaigns and so still couldn't recognize Adala.He tapped with his index finger the end of his cigarette to rid it of ash."Honestly. I only wanted to talk."

MY EYES MY EEEYEEEESS

OOC: No problem. By the way, I edited my post where Volo greets your character because, for some reason, I assumed Adala was male. IC: VoloBar, Typewriter TownVolo shrugged in response to Adala's query, sitting at a chair on the opposite side of the table. "You could call talking to people my hobby," he said, which was true. "The more people you talk to, the more of an idea you have of what's going on, y'know? -- and not just what is going on, but how people view it. Really interesting stuff."Adala... The name rang a bell in Volo's mind, but he couldn't tell why it sounded familiar. A lot of names were circling round nowadays, after all. He examined Adala's face for a couple seconds in thought before adding, "I can also recognize a gumshoe when I see one."

"Stand back. I'm a certified sign whisperer."

OOC: Eyru, I'm tempted to make my Kynaera post all lowercase to match your Greed post. IC: KynaeraMiddayGa-KoroA whooshhhh of rushing water, a hissssss, and then a swirling eruption of steam from all sides like a translucent curtain drawn across a stage after the penultimate act.Sloth had brought down the plasma barriers.The mist curled about Ga-Koro and the pier like a living, voracious organism. Through its innards, Kynaera could see, fixating on her, the paired points of diffused, blood-red light that were Greed's eyes. Those same eyes had wished Turaga Nokama farewell as she sank beneath the water, had gazed into Kynaera's own as she had been entangled in a web called Daedra. Now they were different. Ravenous.The wind picked up, howling as though heralding ill fortune.The beams of light narrowed to slits. There was a movement of green, as if behind a white veil blowing in the wind, and then the eyes and body of Toa Daedra Greed vanished.Kynaera knew what was going to happen a second before it did. Her heart trembled. the moisture in the air formed an umbra about her glowing Kanohi.Greed appeared from thin air, his sword tracing a precise arc through the mist where Kynaera's body had been a split-second before.Had been.Kynaera dropped to the ground several feet behind him, landing deftly in a crouch and increasing his mass twofold. This was an act of war: Pride the Daedra had been replaced with Kynaera the killer.If the lily pad was not, as Kynaera suspected, too thin to support Greed's increased weight... she would deal with that when she had to.

That's a pretty cool song musically. It sounds like a throwback to classic rock, and the musicianship is good. I do think, though, there are a few points where the vocals sound a little off. Maybe it's shifting from the lower notes to the higher notes? It's just my opinion, though, and the ending "WOO-OOH-HOO" is great.

IC: EnaMorningBattlefield, refugee defensive lineEna considered. Scouting would at least be a good start to determining the Hunt's plans. Maybe there was something interesting to discover. At least, Ena hoped so.After numerous years of constant letdowns, hoping was an alien concept to Ena. At first, she wondered about the vague thrill in her chest that something might be accomplished. Then she realized whatever somethings were to be accomplished could only be small, and the thrill subsided."I'd be willing to lead a scouting team," said Ena. "Actually... I'd like to stop by that old laboratory I've heard about if we have the time. I haven't been there yet."OOC: Are there any commanders among the refugees, or are decisions generally made through common consensus? Never mind, I bothered to read the first post.

IC: EnaMorningBattlefield"I'm glad they did." Ena would have paired her response with a smile, but her cheek muscles were stiff from disuse. It was easier to keep the same face she had kept for so many years during the fighting and its aftermath: no smile, no frown, just the face of someone who'd seen far too much for her age.Besides, the hidden meaning of Amarthis's thanks was not lost on Ena:Thank you for killing the person who would have otherwise killed me.What a messed up world this was."We need to move forward," said Ena, gesturing down the grand corridor. "We've been on the defensive for too long now. I'm not saying we should charge into their camp with swords a-wavin', but... we want to put pressure on them. Their vulnerability might be their camp... Maybe if we light their camp with fire, they'll disperse or something. Dunno." She glanced to her feet, hands on her hips. "I mean... basically, we're still cornered, and I'm going a little stir-crazy."

IC: EnaMorningBattlefieldEna paused, her string still drawn back to her right audio receptor, listening as though she hadn't heard the horn the first time.The horn blasted again, echoing through the spacious corridor as if the corridor itself were the trumpet's neck, and the Huntsmen wheeled about in retreat. Ena watched them depart with a wary eye. She didn't lower her bow and relax its string till the last mount had vanished beyond the grand corridor; then she stood and, with a last glance at the enemy's path of withdrawal, turned and reviewed the rest of the refugee forces scattered behind.Some of them were wounded. The casualties, if there were any, were blessedly few. Ena nodded to herself a few times as she ensured no one needed her help; then she walked into the battlefield and retrieved the few arrows she had loosed.When a Huntsman was killed, its body dissipated. There was still blood to clean off those arrows that had struck their targets -- that is to say, all those Ena had fired -- but there were no bodies from which to tear the arrows. She simply picked them off the rusted ground.After she picked up her last arrow and cleaned it on a small cloth she carried, she straightened and looked about herself. She stood in the center of what had been the battlefield. The arched ceiling stood like a cloud far, far above Ena's head. The columns that had once supported that ceiling were either damaged or collapsed now. In one place, part of the ceiling had snapped off with its respective column, opening a hole through which sunlight fell like a veil.If this place weren't a war-zone -- in fact, if all of the Matoran universe hadn't succumbed to strife and bloodshed -- historians and tourists would have adored this location.But now? Now, only a ragtag band of refugees stood here, scanning not the architecture but the weapons and bloodstains scattered about it.Why Ena didn't feel sorrier about this state of affairs was a disconcerting mystery.OOC: I trust my description of the area is acceptable? If not, I can edit it.

I honestly didn't know Mata Nui was a robot till the big reveal in 2008. I may have had my suspicions (I don't remember very clearly), but the reveal was definitely a pleasant surprise for me.

The songs you linked are awesome. I'll definitely try to listen to the soundtrack sometime soon. I remember thinking M83 would sound cooler if it took a more cinematic direction when I listened to one of their songs off Maybe I'm Dreaming, and apparently I was right.

IC: RaknarMiddaySlim SidewaysRight. "Kin". Raknar didn't scoff, but it was a near miss.You're not my brother, he thought, looking straight into the other's eyes. You're not my friend. No blood binds us.His words were more careful. "Raknar. And I don't know you." He said it with a straight face because it was true: He had no relations to any Iron Tribe survivors, for he had reconstructed his life on his own, and a fat lot of good that had done him.

IC: (Adala, Typerwiter Town Bar) [...] I sat down at a table, resting comfortably into the soft cushions as I looked about the area, sitting about two tables away was a Ta-Matoran. He was about as tall as any Matoran, wearing deep red armor, his arms and legs a sort of yellowish-orange. The look he had as he scanned about the room, he was fishing for something of interest. Before his eyes caught mine, I looked down and pulled out the notepad from my satchel. I was lucky that Deputy Minister Etolin's disappearance had attracted attention away from me. Reporters of every ilk, people I once thought were my friends, gutted me, attacked me, left me broken. I lost so many "friends" in that ensuing smear campaign. I don't even know what I stumbled across, but somebody wanted my credibility destroyed and they got that. Only for a while though, that's all they would get. My father always sad I was incredibly stubborn, guess he was right. I flipped open the notepad, scribbling some notes down. Plaza Nuva- Where all the white collars live and work. As much as I dislike the idea of it I might need a team if I expect to get any information there. Breaking and entering likely. Gearheadville- Hot bikes and usually even hotter mechanics. I'd rather avoid Gearheadville, but I don't have much of a choice, I need a speeder, no money to buy one though. Stab 'N' Grab- Where I bought my revolver, great place for info if you're willing to pay more for it, usually reliable. Ghetto- Best for any info on gang movements, current plans, deep cover might be necessary if I want to get anywhere here. I rest my left hand on my head, sighing. So once again I was at square one. Brilliant. IC: VoloBar, Typewriter TownDing went the bell above the door as someone else entered. Volo waited till the door had clicked shut again before turning in his seat. The newcomer was scribbling in a notepad: another reporter? She paused after a minute of writing and sighed, covering her forehead in her left hand.Other than a few people sitting in corners, this bar was empty. This was as good a time as any to initiate a conversation.Volo removed the cigarette from his mouth, exhaled the smoke, which twirled in a wavy spiral over his table, and stood."Hey," he said as he approached, twisting the cigarette in the first two fingers of his right hand; a tendril of smoke still trailed from its end. He extended his other hand. "Name's Volo."OOC: Edited because I should check a character's gender before assuming.

IC: RaknarMiddaySlim SidewaysRaknar didn't look at the person beside him till that person had taken a seat. Another Iron Tribe member. He looked vaguely familiar, but then, all Iron Tribe survivors did."Mrm," said Raknar in greeting.