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Hello BZPower or guest! Welcome to a new epic called "A Mix Between Worlds". It's about a Bionicle cross-over with other franchises such as Star Wars or Transformers. Here are the franchises so far: Transformers G1 by Hasbro/Marvel Comics/Takara-Tomy Warriors Cats by Erin Hunter Red vs. Blue by Rooster Teeth Star Wars by George Lucas Infinity Blade III by ChAIR Studios Pokémon by Nintendo Halo by Bungie/343 Industries/Microsoft Portal 2 by Valve You may suggest more franchises Note: Transformers will only be Generation 1 until I request so Chapters Prototype - Date released: Sep. 28, 2015 More to Come! Joining P.M. me and I'll send you the info sheet Review topic can be found here All themes and franchises belong to their rightful owners.
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Review topicView in a dynamic format on Google DriveNote: This story is all in one post, but is separated into chapters. This is due to the site automatically adding my replies to the main post. Each chapter has been subtly colour-coded for easier navigation. KIRAK THE SCAVENGER 1. "Curse it." hissed Kirak, inspecting the silver dagger he held in his clawed hands. He scowled at the sight of the various scuffs and scratches on what was once an immaculate chrome blade. He again tried to polish them away with and oiled rag, to no avail. Stowing the blade away on his left thigh, Kirak stood up. His sand-filled joints creaked as he raised his lanky body skyward, and his back clicked when he finally stood straight. He looked over the horizon, watching the sun set over the deserts of Okoto. Just then, his focus shifted to a tiny insect perched on the sill of his mask's left eyehole. He noted that the insect was etching into the metallic floor beneath it with its sharp little legs, so his benevolence towards the creature swiftly turned to malevolence. Kirak slowly raised his left hand to his face, and poised a clawed finger, ready to crush the insect. Kirak then struck... But overshot and jabbed his left eye. He yelped at the sharp pain, loud enough for his wail to echo across the canyons down before him. The insect, completely unfazed by the drama that occurred, casually buzzed away as if nothing had happened. Embarrassed and infuriated, Kirak lifted his charge revolver, and sent a shot hurtling towards the flittering bug. He of course missed, and shot again - and again, and again… Until he eventually hit it. It fell to the ground, in a tiny singed heap, which Kirak crushed and ground with his clawed foot, growling. Kirak inhaled deeply, and restored some composure, stowing his charge revolver on his right thigh. His eye was sore, his mask and dagger scratched, and now he was low on ammunition. However, it was slowly getting darker – his opportunity was drawing ever nearer. Kirak looked down into the canyon below, and leapt into the darkness. Priming his strong, digitigrade legs, he focused on the abyss and aimed for the rocky floor below. In his focus however, he failed to notice a particularly hand-like branch on the cliff face behind him, which hooked the gear on his back and sent Kirak into a tumbling spin, to which he again yelped. Plummeting towards the ground below, Kirak’s life of crime flashed before his eyes… Until he crashed with a tremendous clunk, in a thick cloud of sand. Weakly, Kirak propped himself up, noting the tremendous headache he had given himself. He coughed, before shaking sand out of the crevices in his mask and armour. “Gravity… Eugh… Gravity hurts.” He mumbled, meekly. He looked up to the fiendish branch that clipped him, and scowled. He reached for his charge revolver to shoot it, but then recalled that he only had three shots left. Cursing, he stood up, his legs still primed from earlier. He looked ahead, visualized his route, and sprinted through the canyon with much haste. His powerful legs punted him forwards with immense pace, leaving a mighty plume of sandy dust trailing behind him. In the dark, it was hard to see all the cacti, stones and branches that littered the floor of the trailing canyon pathways. But Kirak knew these paths, and leapt over or around each and every single obstacle – finally, something he could do right. Suddenly, something gripped tightly to his right leg, causing him to slam yet again face-first into the ground, sparks flying as he skidded across the stony path. The pain in his leg was incredible, searing through to his very core. He turned over, and looked down to his leg, only to meet eye-to-eye with a vicious animal trap that had clamped it’s maw to his ankle. He kicked his leg, attempting to dislodge the vile little machine, only for it to grip tighter. Kirak wailed as its tight hold began to pierce his metallic exoskeleton. Through reflex, he primed his right leg as if he were to make a jump… Sending a massive jolt of energy into the trap. It buzzed, steamed, clattered, and burst apart into hundreds of tiny pieces – one such piece hitting Kirak square in the face, knocking him out. 2. Night wore on in the desert region of Okoto. The various insects and creatures that lived on the land rested, and the cool night air breezed across the sand and stone, soothing the landscape’s burns from the searing sunshine of the previous day. Okotians roaming the desert returned to their camps and villages, and rested their weary heads, with sweet dreams of the mighty Toa and their victories. Many hours passed, and eventually the sun began to rise yet again over the desert, waking it and its inhabitants up from their slumbers. One inhabitant however, needed some encouragement. “Good morning, sleepyskull!” a little voice chimed, gleefully. Kirak yelped, startled by the noise, and jumped up into the canyon wall behind him. He stared down at the source of the noise, his horrified expression slumping to that of disappointment. There, standing down below, was a young Okotian, in red armour. Kirak sighed. “So that’s where all the screaming came from! We thought it was a dust coyote!” The little girl stated, looking as if she’d struck a most momentous revelation. She giggled, looking up to Kirak admiringly. “Eugh… And who do I have the… displeasure of meeting this fine morning?” Kirak grumbled, putting his arms behind his back and leaning one foot against the wall he had slumped against. The little girl puffed up her chest, before retrieving a little green flag from her back and jabbing its pole into the sand to her side. The flag had a rather crude portrayal of an Okotian’s mask sewn into it with white thread. “I am Bulip, scout of the Desert Exploration Squad of Okoto.” She proclaimed, with utmost pride. Kirak raised an eyebrow, and sniggered. Bulip inhaled, raising herself above such insolent rudeness, and stated her business, pacing in circles with her hands behind her back. “Now, monster, it is my doody - um, doo-tee - to record and analamalise all the makes of animals that I find in the desert. Now because you’re the firstest animal ever that has actually talked to me, I want you to tell me everything about yourself.” Kirak again sniggered, and then shook his head. Bulip glared crossly at Kirak, and propped her hands on her hips, pouting behind her mask. Kirak bent down to Bulip, meeting eye-to-eye with her, and smirked. “The less you know about me, Bulip, the better.” Kirak explained, condescendingly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be leaving. Toodle-oo.” Bulip stamped her foot, and shook her head. “No. I want to know what you are! Tell me!” She wailed. Kirak could tell that she was on the verge of tears. He rolled his eyes, and turned to walk away. As Kirak walked down the path, finding a suitable spot to again begin sprinting, he could hear the little pitter-patter of angry footsteps behind him, along with some sniffling. “It’s not fair! IT’S NOT FAIR!” Bulip screamed. Kirak skidded to a halt, holding his clawed hands to his ears in reaction to the sharp wail of the little red airhorn stood behind him. “By Makuta! Just… Bugger off!” Kirak shouted, shooing Bulip away with his hand. “NO!” Bulip yelled, again stamping her foot. “You are going to tell me all about you, otherwise… Otherwise…” “Otherwise… What?” Kirak barked. “Otherwise… I’ll bash you on the head!” Bulip threatened. Kirak stared at Bulip. She was breathing heavily, her little green flag clenched tightly in her hand. He then exploded with laughter, before shooting the little Okotian square in the face with his charge revolver, knocking her unconscious and sending her flying back several feet. She landed in the sand, with a black, circular burn seared into her mask, smoking. “That was worth it.” He sneered, before turning to sprint away. 3. The canyons in the desert region of Okoto are a complex system of tunnels and ravines that stretch across a vast distance. Pathways near the edges ramp up towards the level of the ground around the canyon, allowing easy access to this labyrinthine scar on the landscape. One must not be fooled however, for these paths are treacherous and long, and it is easy to get lost. Memorizing a route through the canyon is paramount if one must traverse it. Kirak’s knowledge of his particular path through the canyon served him well. He ran with more caution now though, for not only did the daytime sun pose the risk of him being spotted, but Kirak also feared that he may meet another one of those peculiar traps – or even worse, another child. He planned in his head that, if he did meet anything unprecedented, he’d either jump over it, or crush it into the sandy floor in his stride. He practiced this a few times, imagining the more humanoid cacti to be little green people, squishing under his strong feet. It made the journey much less stressful. Eventually, Kirak met his exit to canyon – a cliff face at the end of the path, with lots of outcrops he used as steps up and out of the canyon. Kirak began his ascent, using his powerful digitigrade legs to spring himself from step to step. Halfway up though, he found something surprising waiting for him – a black, grimy Okotian mask. “Not my colour.” He joked, picking the artefact up to inspect it. He noted the difference in shaping and intricacy in this mask to the more modern masks younger Okotians wore. It bore much simpler carvings, and the eye slits were more circular in shape. This intrigued him, so he stowed the mask on his back and continued his ascent. Eventually, Kirak reached the lip of the canyon, and looked out across the desert ahead of him. He looked back, and noted the vast distance that he’d traveled. He inhaled deeply, and smiled, before turning again to sprint across the desert. But just as he went to take a powerful step, his springy leg failed him, and he face planted into the scorching sands. He was pretty exhausted. “I think now would be an excellent time for some… Sunbathing.” He said, rolling onto his back, crossing his legs and propping his hands behind his head. He then noticed his new treasure poking into him, and pulled it out to look at it. The craftsmanship was truly awful. He wondered if this was what the Okotians had resorted to after their celebrities, the Mask Makers, killed each-other. He chuckled at the thought, before tossing the mask aside and continuing with his rest. Eventually, the sun began to set again, and the air began to cool. Kirak stood up, shaking any sand lodged in his armour free. Laying in the sun had replenished his body with energy, and also cleared his head somewhat. But now the air was cool, running would be much easier – both on his joints, and for his safety. He scanned across the desert, looking for his target. Lo and behold, there it was, the crater from Ekimu’s defeat, just ahead of him. Kirak checked his charge revolver – two shots left. “Should be enough, just in case.” He commented, before resuming his journey. 4. The Great Cataclysm is the name given to the tremendous shockwave of energy sent out across Okoto when Ekimu knocked the Mask of Ultimate Power from the face of his brother, Makuta. It is thought that this shockwave was the dreaded mask releasing its evil power across the land, which awoke many evil creatures such as the Skull Spiders, and allowed Makuta to manipulate evil even from beyond the grave. At the epicenter of the Great Cataclysm, a tremendous crater was formed, in which Ekimu’s body laid dormant before it’s recovery by the Protectors. It is said that residual energy from both the Mask of Ultimate Power and the Mask of Creation emanates here, and that this could only be utilized by one of tremendous power. Kirak tripped over a spear that had been left in the sand. He cursed at it, before picking it up and breaking it in two. He had such a clean run before that thing showed up. Otherwise, he was close – very close. He could smell the magical energies on the air. With every stride he made, he felt a mysterious presence come closer and closer to him. It drove him, fueling his thirst for the power that legend had promised him. After much trial and tribulation, Kirak had reached the crater, looking over it with joyous eyes. He laughed. “It’s tiny! I guess when an Okotian says that something is ‘gigantic’, one mustn’t expect much.” He joked, looking down into the dim pit below his feet. He leapt in, landing dead in the center of the crater where Ekimu once laid. Kirak noted Ekimu’s silhouette, scorched into the bare rock beneath his feet. Something however was off about the dead celebrity’s shadow – where was the Mask of Creation? “WHO GOES THERE?” A loud voice exclaimed, startling Kirak. Kirak yelped yet again. “Wh-who enquires?” Kirak retorted, clambering to his feet. “MY NAME IS NOT IMPORTANT, CREATURE.” Boomed the mysterious voice deafeningly. Kirak looked around frantically, looking for a source of the voice. “WELL?” It pressed, causing Kirak’s mask to shake. Kirak unsheathed his charge revolver, just in case. “I am Kirak, the Scavenger! I have come here to take what is unclaimed!” Kirak proclaimed proudly to the heavens, arms raised and stance spread. “SCAVENGER! YOU ARE A FOOL! THERE IS NOTHING WORTH CLAIMING HERE! YOU HAVE COMMITTED A FOOL’S ERRAND!” Kirak pondered, finger on his chin. “So... Shouty voice in the sky. If this place has nothing worth stealing—“ “SILENCE! YOU HAVE TRESPASSED UPON SACRED LAND, ON A FALSE PROMISE OF GREAT POWER!” Kirak was taken aback. Had he really travelled this far on a false promise? Was the ‘power’ he felt earlier just a symptom of his excitement? He pondered. “To whom is this land sacred?” “TO ME.” “And who are you?” There was a pause. Kirak heard shuffling coming from outside of the crater. “UH… Guys, what should I say? Oh okay. N-NONE OF YOUR CONCERN, FOUL CREATURE.” Kirak raised an eyebrow, and again pondered. He then raised his hand, and outstretched one finger. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, slyly. He heard quiet sniggering from over the lip of the crater, followed by shushing. This embarrassed him. “I HAVE NOT TIME FOR YOUR GAMES, THIEF!” Kirak smiled, and leapt straight up in the air. Lo and behold, a trio of young Okotian adolescents were huddled just over the edge of the crater, one with a horn over his mouth. Pranksters. “Neither do I!” Kirak exclaimed as he fell down. On landing, he took another leap up and out of the crater, towards to Okotians, to find them armed with spears – one of which had half a handle. “S-stay back!” Shouted the green Okotian with the horn. His was the voice that had been shouting at Kirak. “Oh, well I apologize little one, because I don’t tend to take orders from those I can crush.” Kirak responded, aiming his charge revolver. He was however, not alone in possessing such a weapon. Both of the green Okotian’s friends revealed their shoulder-mounted elemental shooters, which they aimed towards Kirak. A desert standoff, with one in the middle. The green Okotian threw his horn to the ground, and charged at Kirak with his spear. Just as he got close, Kirak grabbed the spear and used it to swing its wielder around into the crater. Just as this happened, Kirak began to recieve fire from the two elemental shooters. The shots were hot, but weren’t doing any real damage. Kirak casually raised his charge revolver, and shot each of his attackers square in the face, much to the same effect as with Builip that morning. “No ammunition.” Kirak stated quietly, sheathing the depleted charge revolver on his hip. “You’ll pay for that, monster!” The green Okotian insisted. Kirak turned to see the diminutive trickster wielding his spear in his shaky hands, clambering over the lip of the crater. Kirak sniggered, and unsheathed his dagger. To his opponent, Kirak’s dagger was more like a massive sword, which filled him with terror. Kirak noticed this. Suddenly, the air stood completely still. Just before he thought he would vanquish his dwarven foe, a seething pain coursed through Kirak’s body. He yelped – or rather, screamed – and fell to his knees, writhing in pain. Blue and red sparks surged through his body, bursting out through the cracks in his exoskeleton. Kirak’s life of crime yet again flashed before his eyes, this time tainted with images of a truly foul face, and the striking of two hammers on metal. As he writhed and convulsed, Kirak felt his body creak and shake with the immense energy coursing through it. “Th-the power… I-IT’S MINE!” Kirak shouted, before laughing manically amidst his pain. But it was not as it seemed. Armour shells exploded from Kirak’s body, still buzzing with magical energy as they landed in the sand. The green Okotian stood, watching the tall beast before him fall apart. Kirak slowly stood up, and attempted to reach out to something unseen, before finally crumbling into pieces. His mask fell to the ground, crackling with red and blue streaks of magical energy, before all subsided into silence. The green villager stood, aghast. He exhaled. His friends woke up from their induced slumber, with throbbing pain in their heads and singed marks on their masks. “Kungo? You… Okay?” One of them spoke. “Yeah, what… What happened?” The other enquired, adjusting her home-made black mask. “I’m good. And… I don’t know.” Replied Kungo, picking up the mask that lay in the pile of scrap before him. It was as cold and as dead as ice, but its gaze still pierced into Kungo’s being. - END -
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Umm... yeah. this is the review topic for my new Epic, Independence. Hope you like it.
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Hello BZPower, this is my first epic! It revolves around the adventures of the Kanohi Force in the 2004th Dimension as they gain greater intelligence and freedom from their unjust overlords. The story largely takes place in that dimension's Metru Nui, and so all of the Matoran characters use the MetruToran build. Anyway, I guess I'll post the first chapter now. Review topic Independence - Chapter One The green Matoran dashed through the streets of Onu-Metru, breaking several laws in the process. Firstly, all citizens of Metru Nui were to be powered off at this time of night. It was also illegal to leave one's Metru without permission from a supervisor. Lastly, on-foot speed was not to exceed two miles per hour. The hulking figure lumbering after the Mahiki-wearing outlaw made note of all this information and sent it back to the Onu-Metru police headquarters for future reference. Steam hissed from several exhausts on the pursuer's massive arm as it ratcheted down to grab an instrument from its torso. The giant flicked a switch on the cylinder and aimed it at the swift Le-Matoran. It watched, dumbfounded, as the criminal continued on unaffected. Checking The Code out of preprogrammed habit, the robot confirmed that the runner now qualified as defective. A hatch slid open on the robot's right shoulder and a small turret emerged, automatically locking on to the newly branded defective. The Matoran realized that the guard had entered Phase Two and tossed the tablet he was carrying into the nearest window. As he rummaged for something in his satchel, he could only hope that the tablet was now in the correct building and that the inky black sky had prevented the guard from noticing it. Finally finding what he was looking for, the Matoran hit a few buttons on a rectangular object while dodging laser fire. An orange portal appeared, hovering above the street. The Le-Matoran dove into the portal moments before it disappeared entirely. After performing scans in all imaginable spectrums to ensure that the perpetrator was not hiding, the robot began the walk back to the Onu-Metru police subdivision barracks. * * * The next morning at 5:00 AM, a Matoran powered on. This was a notable occurrence; Matoran usually awoke at 5:30. However, the government was lenient in some cases such as this one. This particular Matoran was a Le-Metru inventor. He wore a black Kakama and had green and black armor. Like the rest of the Matoran, he had no name besides his designation code: T1S. The pack on his back was slightly larger than the variety on most Matoran, seeing as he was an inventor. He was in Onu-Metru on a sanctioned business trip to pitch new inventions, but now it was time for him to return to his own Metru. He had powered on early so he could use a transport before the main rush. As he gathered his Akilini disk and the unsuccessful prototypes, he noticed something odd on the floor of his second-story apartment. He knelt down and collected a small stone tablet. One side was blank, while the other said, WAKE UP. What could this mean, and who was it from? he pondered with his slightly advanced brain. Supervisors always gave very specific instructions, which they then relayed to the antennae on the Matorans' backs. It couldn't be from them. The only logical solution he had was to present the tablet to a supervisor. He carefully put on his satchel before subjecting himself to the five minute screening process required to exit the building. * * * In the Onu-Metru underground, a Matoran sat at his desk, neatly recording every minor news story of late. As he copied down an article about the curfew being extended by a minute, his antennae began to hum. He tapped a button on the side of his mask and he heard the raspy, monotonous voice of a supervisor. "Loremaster unit IRE, report to Onu-Metru supervisor office 4 immediately." Using the button to toggle through options on an HUD, IRE confirmed that he had received the message and would follow the instructions immediately. As usual, heads turned as he walked to the office. It was unusual for a gray Onu-Matoran to wear a Kaukau. When he reached the office, a tall, thin supervisor with a purple shoulder patch was waiting next to a Matoran. "IRE, you will be travelling to Le-Metru with T1S to analyze an object he discovered. Our forensics department was unable to find out anything, but we feel that your extensive knowledge of history could prove useful." "Affirmative, supervisor." The spindly, black being then took T1S's Onu-Metru pass and handed IRE a Le-Metru pass. The pair made the short walk to the transport terminal in awkward silence. * * * In Ta-Metru, a Matoran sat on a bench and carefully watched the traffic. If he had been anyone else, he would have been labeled defective and dragged off. However, this Matoran was a previous Chronicler, one who had the privilege of travelling the city and recording important events. This position was gradually phased out and replaced with the numerous Loremasters. As such, he now did whatever odd jobs the supervisors assigned him. Suddenly, he received a message. "We only have one unit in forge 7. Head there immediately." When he arrived, he found an orange-and-blue Matoran hammering a red-hot sheet of metal. "Greetings. I assume you are the unit the supervisor sent to help?" the forgemaster asked. "Affirmative." "Excellent. Our task is to create some new armor for that guard unit." He gestured towards a massive black figure standing in the corner near some tools. "Hmm.... I think we need to get that cannon to retract before we can apply the plates. Can you turn him back on?" The former Chronicler nodded, and then walked over behind the guard. He removed a panel from the back of its head and was presented with several switches. He flicked what he assumed was the power switch and the forge was filled with sound. "YOU CLUMSY FOOL, WHAT DID YOU DO?!" the forgemaster shouted, just barely louder than the noise. They heard laser fire and started looking around frantically. Quickly the two discovered that the gunshots went with the sound, and that the sound was part of a video! They intently watched the projection on the wall, first in amazement and then in horror. "Why would this guard record himself shooting a Matoran?!" the Chronicler cried out. "I don't know, but we need to show a supervisor," the forgemaster said. As they headed for the office, they saw two annoyed-looking Matoran at the transport terminal. "Do you two know which supervisor office is best for reporting something?" "No," the gray one said. "Why do you ask?" The pair of Ta-Matoran made sure no one else was around. "We found a video of a guard shooting at a Matoran." T1S remembered the strange note he found. "You two are coming to Le-Metru."
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- bionicle
- kanohi force
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She loved planes with all her heart, but she was happy to have fallen asleep on this one. The seventy-two hours since her new orders came in had been hellishly hectic for Lance Corporal Nadia Lorena White, ground detail, mechanic, and the Earth Federation’s Women’s Middleweight Champion of the Tokyo Beerfest for four years running. Just on the eve of her 22nd birthday party, she’d gotten a letter so embossed that she’d thought maybe she’d won five thousand dollars a year for life or something. Instead, she’d gotten orders that – once upon a time – would have made her even giddier. The letter was less of a letter and more of a Golden Ticket for pilots like her – it contained orders to report to within the week for participation in the Federation’s FAW-022 Raptor Program. The program was legendary for pilots like Lauren White – cutting-edge technology, the first transformable Walker in history (unless you believed the rumors of the spacers, which were chock full of outlandish Walker designs and names that the old rogues swore the Federation would never see until the mechs were marching through their capitals) and the chance to be a part of its initiation into the military mainstream. It had been in the works for five years, supposedly been worth the GDP of small Federation-states, and it was goddamn exclusive – jockeys, airmen, marines, it made no matter…as long as you were one of the best pilots on the planet. For the time it took her to get through three paragraphs, reading the letter was better than sex. The only problem is that the Raptor Program was being hosted in the Federation’s six spaceports, massive cities built around the mass drivers that were the planet’s arteries into space. Tokyo, Japan was not one such city, and it was in Tokyo, Japan, that Lauren had met... Don’t think about her, don’t think about her, don’t think about— Too late. ***** She was Lance Corporal Inoue Ayane, ninth generation soldier, first generation mech jockey, devoted girlfriend, and the Earth Federation’s Women’s Middleweight Runner-up at the Tokyo Beerfest, four years running. Lauren loved Ayane with all her heart, but she was not – to her family’s chagrin, she’d often joke – one of the world’s best pilots. Her girlfriend had been so supportive that it broke Lauren’s heart – and, to her dismay, had flatly refused to let her turn the orders down or risk something that would mean a discharge. You wanted a Walker long before you ever reached Tokyo, Ayane had chided her gently, her voice catching even if her face was still as a pond. If you gave that up for me, I’d hate myself. She was right on both counts, but as their final hours whittled down, Lauren had grown more and more despondent, finally not even leaving the bed to shower or grab a beer on her final day in Tokyo. To cheer her up, Ayane had done her best to make it the perfect day - preparing breakfast in bed, sharing stories of the memories they'd shared, and, several times, reminding her that sex was, in fact, better than any piece of paper. In the end, however, they resorted to a prone, quiet state, curled up against each other in the bed and listening for the sound of the plane that would take Lauren from the hangar on base. They lived together in an apartment just outside of that base, in a small, cozy setup outside Tokyo Bay. It was small and cozy, borderline cramped, but the place was a quaint little home that Lauren, poor growing up and the only daughter of an irascible Somali mechanic in Vancouver, had ever known. Ayane had moved into it with her jointly on their first day on assignment together as eighteen year olds, so similar to a college dorm that Lauren had jokingly asked if there was a sorority they should join. Within six months, the confines of the apartment had driven them firmly into couple status. The three and a half years between then and now had been the happiest of Lauren’s life, so as they lay together, Lauren’s breath as jumpy as a student’s before a presentation and Ayane’s slow and sad, she’d tried to focus on anything but the sinking feeling that her life was ending by the second. When her girlfriend promised her, in a quiet voice, that she would seek transfer after her the first chance she got, the dam broke – the first tears in three days ran down Nadia White’s eyes, and she rolled over onto her side to kiss the Japanese girl. Their lips had locked for several seconds – or maybe minutes – before the dull, bestial roar of a jet touching down on base reached their ears. Wiping her eyes and searching for her clothes with a fist, Nadia had given the woman she loved her best grin. “You gonna wish me luck?” she asked, as close to teasing as she could manage, fumbling with her bra. “I’ll need it if the thing wants to transform into a giant fusion-powered windmill or something.” Ayane had giggled. “The only way you screw up,” her girlfriend had promised, reaching out to hold Lauren’s hand before she could pull her tank top on, “is if you let yourself, babe. So don’t let yourself. That’s an order.” She’d growled teasingly to punctuate the sentence. Lauren had only planned on making a quick joke and saying her ‘I love yous’ as punctually as possible. Thanks entirely to Ayane, the jet was kept waiting on the tarmac for its cargo for so long, the lieutenant in charge of her case was forced to make way to their apartment complex and knock on the door herself. Typical Ayane. Always getting her in trouble. Sweet. Sweet trouble. The thought put a wan smile on her face until the second her back foot left the tarmac. ***** Said Lieutenant, one Grace Noah of Mission Control, turned out to be a bit of a chatterbox. Lauren could at least appreciate that, being a social animal herself, and they’d chatted politely about her job the last several weeks – processing the life stories of marines, pilots, and mech jockeys from the Western and Eastern Divisions of the Federation, as well as all four fleets and even the border patrol that was responsible for guarding Earth’s assets from more radical facets of the Ark Union. When the brass found a candidate they liked, it was Noah’s job to get on a plane, fly to whatever backwoods part of the planet they could be found at, and then bring them back to Horizon, the spaceport she was assigned to. It all sounded insanely busy, and Noah – a pretty girl with a geek physique who was a few years older than Lauren, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes that offset caramel skin – looked the part of exhausted errand girl. There were deep bags under her eyes, her hair needed a come, and - when Lauren joked tiredly with her about it to her face - her smile made it clear that she'd been at least been brushing, but in quite the hurry. After a few more minutes of chatter about the Raptor Program and the South American climate of Horizon, Noah finally reached an arrangement with her charge to get some well-deserved shut eye on the flight from Tokyo to Spaceport Four in Horizon. Within seconds of the deal being struck, it seemed like Noah was out, and Nadia, pleasantly, found herself following suit. She hadn’t slept at all in the three days leading up to this flight…and asleep, at least there was a chance she wouldn’t dream of Ayane. For eleven hours, her mind was a peaceful slate, a blank and relaxed opposite to her personality even on a normal day. In her current emotional maelstrom, the R&R was even more of a godsend. When she found herself being roused awake by the Lieutenant, it was nearing dusk. She could see the streaks of orange and purple through the sky, like God had declared scorched earth on his entire domain; the plumes of clouds in the sky were painted dark by the sunset. Nestled into this backdrop, like a prized egg in a nest, sat Horizon – a clean, orderly metropolis with view screens and skyscrapers Lauren could see from here. There was an expansive natural beach that the Lance Corporal caught sight of as they flew over top of it, and the roof of the Federation base glinted as they began their approach. But those were all sights that were shared by her old locale – even the Federation outpost, which Japan had refurbished during Lauren’s first months of deployment back in 2080, looked that sparkling new. But there was one thing that Horizon boasted that was a rarity in the rest of the world – the mass driver, a long, lean, cylindrical structure which seemed to pulse blue with life. Nadia’s eyes, glazed over in shock, trailed a Federation ship as it docked with the driver like it was the most casual thing in the world. “Welcome to Horizon, Lance Corporal,” Grace Noah said cheerfully, putting a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “The Jewel of Panama. Not that anybody calls it that in the real world, that’s just a tourist trap thing. Remind me to dig you up a couple brochures from the Chamber of Commerce here, they’re fantastic for a good over-the-top laugh.” Lauren was ushered out of the jet more than she walked out under her own power, and as she stepped out onto the tarmac to get her first taste of South American air, her eyes briefly traced over a single man at the end of the runway, arms crossed and stance casual. She took note of him for only a second before her eyes found her way back to…back to… “Jesus Christ,” she whispered. Lieutenant Noah laughed. “Careful who you say that to. They might tout him on the brochures next.” -Tyler- 1 reply
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Well, hello, Bionicave! This is Dallior here, with some EXCITING NEWS from our own Ghidora131, taking the reins of mine and Irrie's blaughs to blaugh something. Take it away, Ghid-Squid! Thanks, Dallior. I, the illustrious Ghidora131, will be writing an epic much like Voltex's "By The Numbers", featuring our very own BZPeeps! Just comment below1 with your username and gender to enter. And Kanohi Force members, don't bother. You're included by default. And now... cheeseburgers. ... That's it. Join my epic. Yayyyyyy... Well, you heard the psychopath. Comment below and have funs! 1Down here is where comments go. Edit: First comment merged into entry; please don't double comment! -Wind-
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A Tale from the Halkenverse <REVIEW TOPIC> The constant black haze shrouding Metru Nui at night is an Ideal place for crime. As if the city wasn’t any brighter than it was during the day, the choking darkness was only briefly relieved by the dim gas lamps and headlights on passing air-bikes. Most Matoran would shut themselves in their hovels at this hour, but those who worked late had no choice but to trudge home in the dark. And even so, they did so warily, constantly tense, as all sorts of thieves and murderers were active at this hour. Mere seconds to midnight, an alarm rang out on a local jeweller’s on one of the many coastal boulevards of Ga-Metru. Someone had broken in, and was scooping up all the precious jewels on display as easily as dust on the floor. When the Patrol Vahki arrived, the thief was already gone. The Commander barked orders, telling the rest of the squadron to search the streets. As they headed off, none of them saw the thief climb upwards on the rough edges of the wall above, heading far above the dimly lit streets. This thief was a Co-Matoran, A Matoran of smoke, and like their Suburban counterparts, The Le-Matoran, they are agile, nimble, and good at climbing. Away from prying eyes, the Thief began to make its escape. And he would’ve succeeded, if it weren’t for a Toa watching silently from the shadows. As soon as the thief climbed to one of the murky rooftops, someone leapt down from nearby, landing hard on the roof behind him. Despite the near darkness, the thief could see a faint silhouette, and an orange heart-light in the midst of the dense smog. On instinct, the thief ran, but the mysterious Toa was fast approaching. For every ledge the Matoran would climb, the Toa would effortlessly leap up. This continued until the Matoran was cornered at the edge of a tenement block. Knowing he could no longer run, the thief knew it was time to defend himself. He pulled out a portable Zamor pellet launcher, much to the Toa’s surprise. Knowing the type of thief he was battling, he might’ve got it off the black market. He fired a neon green blast at the silhouette, but his opponent was ready. The shell bounced harmlessly off the golden shield the Toa had deployed, and not only that, he had also brought and unsheathed a sword, which glowed a bright orange, as if it was composed of pure flame. In the dim glow, the Toa’s features could be seen more clearly, if that were possible. His armour was varying shades of red and orange, covering a heroic, muscular build. His mask was mainly concealed by a large breathing apparatus, with pronounced eyepieces. Panicking, the Thief let off two more shots at the Toa of Fire, but to no avail, as he approached rapidly, deflecting the pellets with his shielf, before using his sword to knock the thief’s pellet launcher out of his hand and into the streets far below. Before the thief could respond, the Toa sheathed his sword and charged right into the thief in one swift movement, knocking them both off the edge of the building. As wind rushed past them, the Toa secured his grip on the Thief, and behind his breathing apparatus, his mask began to glow slightly. As soon as they hit the streets below, a sphere of energy enveloped them, softening their landing. The force exerted on them was rather intense, but at least they were still alive. The Vahki arrived on the scene relatively quickly, and found the thief right next to his bag of pilfered jewels. He was arrested on the spot, but in the commotion, nobody noticed the mysterious Toa slink away into the night. Well, almost nobody. Unknown to him, a small floating camera drone had been recording his every movement, amplified with night-vision filters. From a discreetly parked air-vehicle, two Matoran watched the footage over and over, analysing his techniques. “He’s got initiative, daring, ruthless efficiency…” one of them muttered. “Do you perhaps think-“ The other one, sitting right beside him, cut him off. “I am certain, Vorris. This is exactly the one we need…” This story is purely non-canon. Any resemblance to any canon characters is purely a coincidence The Halkenverse was created by Xaeraz, expanded upon by Click, Nato, Ehksidian, and many others Bionicle Gen.1 © the LEGO company, 2001-2010
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http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/19549-gold-and-bones/ Hello! I'm a LONG time fan of Bionicle, and with this new generation, I wanted to try and mix the two generations we knew and loved. The villains I am going to try and keep the same, while the Toa I try to find a healthy medium between the personalities and powers we knew before, and the ones we are being introduced to! I'll be adding the other chapters to this story as I get the time (from managing college and life and such.) If anyone has any comments or suggestions, I'm open to them!
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This is an epic I'll be trying to work on over the next couple weeks, hopefully adding chapters as my college life allows me to. It's based in the current summer wave, both following and deviating from the plot bits we've been given at certain points. Hope you all enjoy! -------------------------------- Ch. 1 The City of the Mask Makers. Once, it was a bustling metropolis, busy with the hustle and bustle of the many Protectors of the ancient island of Okoto, and their great leaders, Ekimu and Makuta. The two brothers would work late into the night, forging masks for the denizens of the island, until Makuta’s envy spelled disaster for both himself and his brother. In a cataclysmic display of power, both brothers were knocked into an endless slumber. Ekimu was laid to rest in the city’s heart by the villages’ Protectors, while Makuta’s form was never found. Some think he was simply destroyed during the duel with his brother, but others believe his evil still resides in the cities ruins, slumbering, waiting for revenge. Many have begun to believe that rumor as the Skull Spiders began their reign of terror across the island, appearing within the city and driving the citizens of Okoto from their home. Vile arachnid creatures with an uncanny ability to control a being through their hive mind if given the chance to latch onto the being's face, creating a skull-like visage. Each village’s protector fought to defend their people, but could only help them retreat, to have to fight another day in the same helpless situation. Finally, in one final act of desperation, the Protectors assembled and performed the ritual of Time, summoning legendary heroes to their island-home through space and time itself. Through luck, persistence, and the Protector’s guidance, these heroes, known as Toa, hunted down artifacts of incredible power, golden masks forged by Ekimu before his ill-fated slumber and rich with elemental power. Brought together for the first time at the ruined gate of the City of the Mask Makers, the Toa found strength in unity and defeated what they thought was Okoto’s greatest evil, in the form of a monstrous Skull Spider, their Lord and leader. As the team of six elemental masters stood over-looking the bridge from which the Lord of Skull Spiders had met its fate, an ancient voice echoed through them. The sound did not resonate in their ears, but instead, their minds as their golden masks warmed against their metallic faces. “Great Toa, I am the voice of Ekimu. The ripple from your power has awoken my mind from it’s slumber, but you must find my resting place within the city to fully free me. Make haste…” Toa Lewa, the youngest of the team, clad in a silver and emerald armor that resembled the Jungle element he wielded, spoke up once the voice faded. “Well…that’s certainly not strange-mysterious at all. Are we actually going in THERE?” The Master of Jungle rose a silver-clad hand and pointed towards the mist-covered city. Nature itself had claimed the city almost more so than the Skull spiders had, moss and weeds cracking stone and adding a green tint to the brown stone ruins. Only wisps and shadows could be seen beneath the mists, leaving the naked eye to search for coherence in the swirling shades of grey and black. Gali, the Master of Water, smiled beneath her curved mask of gold, and replied in her smooth voice. “Yes, we are. Don’t tell me the great Toa of Jungle is afraid?” “No, Sister, the Toa-Hero of Jungle isn’t scared-afraid. He’s simply…wanting to be wary-careful.” The Toa of Ice, in his usual cold manner, rolled his crystal-blue eyes beneath his asymmetrical mask and remained silent. The air-headed Toa of jungle was trying to defend his ego, as always, and the city was holding the Ice Masters attention more so anyway. He blinked a few times, the telescope-device worked into the right side of his mask magnifying his view of the city, and Kopaka slowly panned across the ruins’ peaks. At first, only fog met his vision…but shape that wasn’t a broken tower or hanging mass caught his eye, only to disappear again when he blinked. Gali, in her usual fashion, seemed to pick up on the Toa of Ice’s sudden mood change and a soft touch met his golden pauldron. Kopaka tore his gaze from the city and met her warm, yellow eyes with his cold ones. “Kopaka, what is it?” She asked, her tone soft now, losing the teasing tone from Lewa, who was now arguing over the Master of Earth about the distance the Spider Lord had fallen from the bridge and the possibility of it being fatal. The Master of Ice replied in his quiet, chilly voice. “I…believe I saw something in the mists. It could be nothing, but…” “We will investigate, Brother. We will uncover this cities mystery, together, as a team.” Kopaka didn’t smile, the physical act wasn’t a practice he made a habit of, but her voice did quell some of the unease he felt, to a degree. She was the only member of the team who either didn’t look at Kopaka’s perfectionist attitude as cold, so he found a form of…understanding from her. Nodding without a word, he turned his gaze back to the city. The Master of Fire, Tahu, gripped his twin FlameSwords more tightly, their cores flickering like burning embers, and started forward, his voice strong like the flame itself. “We have conquered this Island's greatest evil. Surely whatever hides in the shadows of this city cannot hope to threaten us. As our sister has said, united, we are unstoppable.” The Master of Stone’s yellow eyes looked to Tahu, then back at the large gate ahead of them. Being attuned to the very stone they stood upon, Pohatu was not quite so convinced. He could feel vibrations through the stones, tiny kinetic waves passed through the stone of the city and rippled up through his bronze and silver body…but what caused them? Skull Spiders did not have foot-steps, or that would take away their element of surprise. “I don’t like this place, Tahu… Something foul lies in that city, something I don’t think we’ve seen before.” Tahu stopped and looked back at Pohatu at the sound of his grating stone-like voice. The Master of Stone was the bravest, most durable of them, and even he seemed…wary. Tahu frowned then…The Prophecy had deemed him the leader of this team of heroes, but he was still struggling at times to find a decision that was in the best interest of them all. To his luck, the hulking Master of Earth put a hand on Pohatu’s shoulder and spoke, though his own voice like a rumbling earth-quake, it was also light and confident. “Ekimu trusted this fate to us and to us alone. He would not have if he did not think us capable of the task, brothers and sister. We will face what this city has to throw at us, and for better or worse, we will come out the other side together.” None of the Toa could argue with that and moved forward towards the ruined city and its mysteries. Ch. 2 A pair of red eyes watched the Toa enter the cities gates from atop one of the many spires, and the being had to bite back a fit of laughter. These “heroes” moved as a group, which would make them easy to track, easy to predict. As much as the being wished to simply leap down upon them and pursue, he knew in the back of his shattered mind that HE would not approve of that. He always wanted to be informed of what was going on… Tearing his eyes from the group, Keretor expertly crawled down from his perch, four hands clutching at rocks and out-cropping’s in the tower as he made his way to the street level. Also known as the Skull Slicer, Keretor bound on thin, skeletal legs towards the city’s center, four arms tucked close to his exposed ribs as to improve movement. Somewhere in the storm of thoughts in his skull, he remembered running through the halls of an arena, hearing hundreds of fans cheering his name after each victory, over and over…then pain, darkness, a war in his mind…then the rest was an incoherent blur, up until his death and resurrection by Kulta, or as he was more commonly known, the Skull Grinder. For once, his mind collected on the memory of only a few months ago. He remembered pain, as if his bones were being clicked back into place, and a fire burning through him that woke Keretor from the eternal peace of death. While Kulta’s resurrection power had reanimated his body, his mind was left more in tatters then when he’d met his end. The only shreds of sanity he could remember clearly were two simple objectives; Obey Kulta, and retrieve the Golden Masks. The rest, well…The Grinder had been delightfully vague on. Finally, taking a turn around a sharp corner, the Slicer came to such an abrupt halt that the hook-swords across his back banged against his deep-green bones and armor with a solid clang. The sound raised the attention of the towering mass of bone and armor at the far end of the torch-lit room. Translucent-red ribs and armor reflected the fire-light as he turned to look down upon the Slicer, similarly red eyes seeming to radiate malevolence. Keretor instantly dropped to his bony knees, all four arms tucked under him in a bow as Kulta stepped over to him to hear his report. The Grinder easily stood atleast a solid five feet over the Slicer, and was twice as wide, despite being as skeletal as Keretor himself. The brute’s armor made up for the lack of physical mass though, covering most of the creature’s silver bones. “Keretor…” His voice was twisted, evil, echoing from his horned skull…yet it carried a certain collected tone to it, betraying the visage of death and destruction. “Usually it takes quite the effort to drag you away from sticking my Skull Spiders to the walls with your swords and listening to them scream, so what brings you to my chambers?” It took the Slicer a few minutes to cackle his way into coherence, but finally, he spoke, his voice shrill and high-pitched. “Heeeehahaha… The Toa, my Lord, they’ve entered the cities gates, hahaha…and they have the Golden Masks, like you predicted…eehehaha…” The Lord of the Skull creatures would’ve frowned if he had any flesh or mechanical parts left to do so, and he turned his back to the chuckling Slicer, looking back at the glowing trophy he had resting upon a pedestal at the center of the Chamber. The ornately-designed Mask of Creation rippled with raw power, its crown-like visage staring back at Kulta. It was one of the reasons the Toa had come to this ruined city, and surely, that wretched Mask Maker would lead them right to it. Rather than a threat, Kulta saw an opportunity… He already had one of the greatest masks in existence, only three remained out of his reach, but if he could get the Golden Masks from the Toa themselves, he could use them to empower the greatest of his undead creations. He would simply let the Toa wander into his claws of their own power. “Keretor, stall the Toa. Use whatever means you wish, but make sure you try to get one of the masks in the process… severed limbs won’t achieve our goals.” The Slicer snickered to himself, and stood, four hands clasping together in excitement for what was to come. The green-armored undead’s mind was racing now with all the different ways it could RIP one of those perfect little masks away from the Toa, all the glorious ways he could make them scream…when Kulta’s next command caught him off-guard. “And Keretor… once you disorient them, I want you to lead them back towards the Arena. The others will be waiting to assist you…” “But, my Lord…I can defeat them on my own, I will make them quiver in fear and-!” The Grinder turned back to Keretor, and stalked over to him, long skeletal legs carrying him the distance within a few strides, and clutched the Slicer by his skeletal neck, holding him off his skeletal feet with ease. The poor victim’s four arms were useless at trying to pry Kulta’s grip from his vertebrae. “You will do as I have commanded you, Keretor, or I will send you back into the black oblivion I tore you from and use your remains to feed the Warriors…Am I understood?” All the Slicer could do was nod, still chuckling to him, though not quite as whole-heartedly as before. Kulta threw him back towards the gate with a simple swing of the arm, and walked back over to the pedestal holding the mask, the sound of Keretor scampering back towards the city streets echoing through the halls. The mask of Creations golden glow reflected off Kulta’s silver-chrome bones, and the Grinder ran a clawed hand across its engraved surface…Yes, the Toa would come to him, in time, and he’d give them a proper welcome. Every current resident of the City would…
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So, we've got the LEGO website with all of the Bionicle G2 storyline up to date...but they are very short and do not go into detail. So I'm starting an epic. Chapter I The Legend There were once two brothers, Ekimu and Makuta. These two brothers were legendary mask makers on the island of Okoto. The island Okoto consisted of 6 regions, each having it's own elemental power. There was fire, water, stone, earth, jungle, and ice. The region of Fire is volcanic and fierce. Magma spills from the huge mountain ranges and run south forming broad, burning rivers. The region of earth is black, glasslike and nightmarish while the region of stone is a great barren desert spreading across the northwestern part of Okoto. The region of ice is extremely frigid (obviously) and glaciers and tundra permanently freeze it. The region of water is composed of lakes and thundering rivers that form large deltas. Finally, the region of jungle is a dangerous place full of gigantic trees and savage wildlife. Going back to the two brothers and mask makers, Ekimu's masks were considerably more acclaimed than Makuta's masks, expecially Ekimu's great Mask of Creation. Makuta's greatest mask at the moment was the Mask of Control. However, there was an ancient law that states a mask can only have a single elemental power in it, and because of his jealousy, Makuta broke the law and made The Mask of Ultimate Power. The moment Makuta put the mask on, he became so powerful that he grew very large and the earth quaked. Suddenly, Ekimu, realizing what his brother had done, managed to take off Makuta's Mask of Ultimate Power. This created a shockwave, sending both the brothers into an eternal sleep...
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So, Without sounding too dramatic, Welcome to a new comic Series! Allow me to tell you a short story before we begin. A long time ago In the time before time, I stumbled upon BZPower and started reading some of ye olde sprite comics, Most notably Dark709's and Wise One's. Inspired by their shenanigans, I decided to make my own comics. And they were baaaad, Like bare bones, blank background, MS paint bad. However, as my artistic skills improved throughout the years, I progressively got better, and eventually, after many failed series lay in the bottom of my hard drive, I decided to finally put a comic series on BZPower. Now that that's out of the way, Here we go! CHAPTER ONE Comic 1:Rough Landing Comic 2:Internal Monologuing Comic 3:The plot actually progresses for once Comic 4:The Sacrificial Maiden Comic 5:Another Amnesiac Comic 6:The battle ends quickly Comic 7:A formal introduction Intermission 1:Another Story Guest star auditions aren't open at this current moment, But I'll Notify anyone who's Interested. CREDITS: Dark709 and many, many others for Inspiring me to make Comics, and also for making and collaborating on the Chimoru Omega kit. Soran for making the Chimoru R kit Anyone else I may have forgotten And YOU, for reading these. Comments and Criticism are welcome. Thanks for stopping by!
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Hello, faithful readers! This is Dallior here with the rebirth of an old Epic! Legends of Sanguivox was an Epic that I had started but never finished, so I've been tweaking it and making re-birth ready! Welcome, one and all, to another legend of Bionicle. I am Turaga Dume, and this is a tale of the Toa preceding me, many years after the Great Cataclysm. It all started in a place not far from here, in Le-Metru. A great danger, the Ryu, were plaguing the Matoran with no end in sight. They were giant plants, who absorbed and killed Matoran, or anything else. No one - or thing - was safe. The other Toa that could help were being killed by Makuta's Brotherhood, and the Le-Matoran were losing hope fast. Until the unthinkable happened... a new Toa was born... a Toa of Fire. Post in the comments any suggestions, declarations, or celebrations!
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MAIN STORY TOPIC: http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/16205-bionicle-rise-of-the-antagona/ Voya Nui thought it had seen it's last days when the Piraka arrived. Now, they come to face with something equally worse. In the main timeline, these beings are known as the Toa Inika, but here, they are the Antagona, Sevants of Karzhani, and bringers of darkness. Will the Matoran of Voya Nui survive against their onslaught? or will the entire island fall to their shadowy forces? If you have Comments or Criticism about this story, feel free to post away! I'll update the story whenever I can.
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A few days ago I finished A Play of Light and have been emailing it out to various interested friends as a PDF for their reading. I apologize that some people get to read it all before BZPower does! I hope you've enjoyed the first few chapters that have been posted. The Chrysalis Saga schedule now looks like this. I'll be posting each chapter on Monday, with the last three chapters posted within a single week. I mentioned that it was a long concluding scene, so it feels right to put them up close together for those that are following every day. Last night I started a new document with the title of Part Two. Chapter 1. Page 1. It's almost disheartening to start over that way! But I'm ridiculously excited for this one as it really gets into answering more questions about the story, and there are some pretty epic plots involved. There's also a more expanded cast right from the start, so it'll have a faster pace earlier on. It also helps that there's less setup necessary. I think that in a few months, as A Play of Light posting wraps up, I'll start blogging a few teasers for the next one. Not sure how else I would keep this blog relatively active... if you have any ideas please share them! I'm open to being creative with including people in development without spoiling it for them. I'm sure Part Two will take me at least a year to write, so if 2015 turns out really well, I might finish by next December. If not, then probably by mid-2016. Till next time.
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Alright, my other epic (Foundations of War) is currently on hiatus. I'm taking time off from it to reorganize the plot, as it has gone rather chaotic recently. Once I'm done, I plan to write that along with this saga. In the meantime, I have created this epic. It records the adventures of a lost society of Toa and their strange tales and conflicts. Since it has a large cast of character, each divided into one of four factions, I have provided a Google Doc with them all organized for reference whilst reading: Clicky Review Topic: Clicky Now without further ado, behold! (This first chapter is going to be rather short, don't worry. The rest are going to be longer.) CHAPTER I Allow me to give you a brief history of my people. We are all Toa. Or, that is what we are normally referred to as. Long ago, when the universe was new, there was a grand convocation of Toa that took place in the southern islands. We planned to discuss how to govern ourselves, if we should do so. However, only the Toa from the south came. The rest stayed in their own islands, not caring for our discussions. Then, something happened. While we were debating various matters, the island teleported. Correct, it teleported. One moment it was there, the next it was gone. When we examined our location, we determined that we were no longer within the world that we once were in. Another planet? Maybe. Another universe? Also a possibility. We don’t know. As time went on, we decided it was time for us to organize ourselves into a government. Our island landed in the middle of a desert, us being the only life forms on it. We divided into four families, based on our elements. The first family, the Satemi Family, lived inside a great fortress. It was heated by many fires and torches. It hid many historic records and tablets. Every event that happened in our society was documented there. Toa of Fire, Stone, Light, Plasma, and Psionics dwelled there. Then was the Onephes Family. Their headquarters was located inside a gigantic statue of a Toa. Its walls were cold and dark, there being very little light or warmth. Toa of Ice, Shadow, Magnetism, Sonics, and Gravity lived inside the statue. There they meditated and sought for a greater connection with the world, both physical and spiritual. The third family was the Taspu Family. They made their residence within the winding and twisting tunnels of the underground. They utilized the elements of Water, Air, and Iron. The last was the Uuhetu Family. They shared the underground tunnels with the Taspu. They consisted of Lightning, The Green, and Earth. Right now, I am currently walking through the narrow passages of the underground. In recent times, the Taspu and Uuhetu families have waged war against each other simply because the other side is different from them. There’s always been a rivalry between the families. As a member of the Satemi Family, I have often competed against the Onephes in friendly games. However since the Taspus and the Uuhetus live in the same area, their competition has grown into hate. War has broken out, and it’s been going on for the past few years. However now, both families have launched small attacks on Satemi and Onephes merchants that sold weapons to the other side. We have now formed an alliance. Our mission is peacekeeping. Presently, our goal is to cut off the passage between the Uuhetu barracks and their main tunnel. Beside me walks Selk, Nahi, and Baniti. On my other side is are the Onephes soldiers for my unit. They are Saa and Huni. The tunnel that we are in right now is rather wide, however the ceiling is low handing. The bricks are covered with dust. My name is Yahya. And this is my tale. “Alright, here we are,” said Baniti. He was the leader of the unit. “We are inside the small passageway that connects the barracks and the main transportation tunnel. If we can cut off their training stations from the rest of the network, there will be no more new soldiers available. At least for a short period of time.” “How are we going to do this?” asked Saa. “We need to find a way to seal it off without causing a cave-in. The Uuhetu Family has access to Toa of Earth. This is why I’ve brought Yahya with us. He is going to create a barrier of stone, and Nahi is going to melt it into magma.” “How will we keep the magma from cooling?” said Nahi. “Yahya is going to seal the pool of magma with a wall of stone on either side of the passageway. So, when the Uuhetus reopen it, the hot magma floods in." Yahya and Nahi got to work. They all walked over to the end of the tunnel, which connected to the main hallway. Yahya formed a wall on the opposite side of the tunnel. He then created a stone formation that plugged up the passageway. Nahi began melting the stone. Just as it was going to flood back onto them, Yahya placed another wall, thus sealing up the entire tunnel. “So it’s both a barrier and a trap?” said Huni. “Indeed,” replied Baniti. The group of six headed out of the tunnel. They came to the small hole in the ceiling. Sunlight streamed in. Saa shot a zipline that was attached to his arm to the rim of the hole. He carried the other five up to it one by one, and then himself. They were now standing on the surface. The desert. Far off, they could see the dim outline of the statue and the fortress. “Alright, let’s head home,” said Baniti. “Remember, this will be the first of many missions that we will undergo. The Uuhetus will be delayed, which will allow the other peacekeeping units to concentrate on keeping the Taspus at bay.” They began to walk toward the structures. Their vision wavered in the heat. However, they didn’t notice the group of figures emerging from the sand, their eyes filled with rage and malice. Their hearts beat to the drums of war, and their minds were chaotically evil.
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Post your thoughts about my new multi-chapter story, Search for Takanuva, here! Link to the story: http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/16318-the-search-for-takanuva/
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Chapter 1: The Discovery 1000 years after the return to Spherus Magna, the planet is again full of life and beautiful landscapes. Harmony is everywhere, and matoran and agori are happy. The Toa Mata are now wise turaga, and a new generation of the matoran race has arrived. Now i'll tell you a story about one matoran. That matoran's name is Takilo. Takilo was wandering near Vulcanus, when he found something very special. -Turaga Tahu! Turaga Tahu! Takilo shouted, and ran to turaga's hut -Look what i found! Takilo said, and showed the mask he found to Tahu. -You've made an important discovery, my friend. Tahu said. -Important discovery? Takilo said. -How important? -Very important, very important indeed. You have found Avohkii, the mask of light! Tahu declared Tahu explained that the mask belonged to Takanuva, toa of light, who had disappeared after the return to the planet. -Some say that he was captured by dark forces. Others tell that he just wanted to be alone. Tahu explained to Takilo -Before he became a toa, he was much like you. He wandered around the island of Mata Nui, searching for stories to tell. Tahu told. -What happened to him? Takilo asked. -We don't know. Tahu said. -Maybe you should go look for him. -I will find him. Takilo promised to Tahu, took the mask, and left the turaga's hut. (End of Chapter 1)
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Fire Tears Part 1 It was a normal night within Ta-Koto, the capitol city of the Fire Region that consisted of one massive black castle with many spires and adjacent towers. Kaeren stood within one of those towers, staring down at a map of Okoto. A taller Ta-Matoran stood across the table from Kaeren staring down at the maps. "We've noticed concentrations of Skull Spiders here and here in our region..." he jabbed a crimson finger at two points on the map. "Are you going to order the Guards to try to search for a nest Jakab?" Kaeren asked earnestly, trying to learn as much as he can. "Yes, I think that would be the right move little brother." Jakab nodded. Jakab looked much the same as kaeren, except his standard Matoran mask was a bit scarred. Kaeren was about to say something to his older brother when suddenly horns began to sound throughout the castle. "We are under attack!" Jakab shouted. He drew his twin lava swords from his back in one smooth motion, before turning towards the open window. Kaeren rushed over to the window to see Ta-Koto guards raising the main gate to the city, except that Skull Spiders were still streaming in over the gate as it was slowly closing. "I have to go, stay here Kaeren." Jakab said. "No! I'm coming with you! I can fight! I'm old enough to fight now, you've been training me!" Kaeren said defiantly. Jakab turned back to Kaeren. "No little brother, it is not your time yet to test your worth in battle. You will be an official Ta-Koto Guard in a few days. Which means you will be under my command since I am Captain of the Guard. Stay here brother, that is an order." with that Jakab threw open the door and dashed down the stairs... Kaeren stood by the window, feeling extremly helpless as more Skull Spiders began to stream into Ta-Koto. The gate finally closed, but there was still a good deal inside. He watched as Ta-Koto guards began to fight hard against the creatures, using their spears as they defended their home. He even saw his brother down at the forefront, slashing at Skull Spiders with his swords. That's it I'm going down there to help. Kaeren thought. He turned away from the window and moved across the room where several Ta-Koto Guard spears were being hung against the wall. Kaeren grabbed one of the red two-pronged spears and lifted it up before he also grabbed a shield with the flame insignia of the Ta-Koto guard across the front. He turned and dashed through the open door before heading down the stairs. Even as he moved through the tower, making his way to the fight he could still hear the sounds of battle. The Ta-Matoran threw open the door to the tower and stepped out into the courtyard. It was chaos, red armored Ta-Koto guards were everywhere attacking Skull Spiders. A Skull Spider scuttled towards Kaeren and jumped at him, Kaeren lifted his shield, deflecting the Spider and launching it into the air. Bolts of flame burst into several Skull Spiders and Kaeren turned to see The Protector of Fire, Vakama joining the fight also, his black cloak swirling behind him as he used his elemental blaster. Kaeren jumped into the fray then, using his spear as he struck at several Skull Spiders, taking three out this way. That was when Kaeren looked up, only to notice a large group of Skull Spiders crawl over the wall before launching themselves onto a group of the Guard' heads. "Watch out!" Kaeren shouted but it was too late, the Skull Spiders latched onto the Guards masks. They went rigid before they turned and began attacking their own comrades. Kaeren looked up to see his brother surrounded by piles of unmoving Skull Spiders, it gave him new found motivation in his attacks. The battle wasn't going well, it was obvious to Kaeren as he fought for his life that the Ta-Koto Guards were overwhelmed by the Spider threat.While he was busy fighting he heard his brother Jakab shouting commands at his men constantly. More and more Matoran were falling, Skull Spiders hugging their face before they rose with a new sinister purpose. The infected Matoran then began to do something organized. They swarmed the Guards booth on the side of the courtyard, grabbing the controls for the massive gate into the city, and releasing it so the gate would now open. Kaeren stood still with fear as the gate fell open, allowing passage for more Spiders to come through. Except there were no more Skull Spiders outside the gate, there was nothing except the Fire Region countryside and the massive lava moat that surrounded the castle. Then the infected did something Kaeren almost couldn't comprehend. They began to walk out onto the gate which served as a bridge across the lava moat before they stepped off the edge, willingly dropping themselves down into the lava. "By Ekimu don't!" Kaeren shouted, but it was too late, he watched as other Ta-Matoran threw themselves into the molten lava. Ta-Matoran were more heat resistant then any other Matoran, they could survive maybe a few seconds or even a few minutes in the lava, and still with severe injuries. That was why lava surfing was such a dangerous sport, most Ta-Matoran practiced first in water so they learned to never fall of their board. He charged through the crowd, running out into the gate and looking over the side to see if there was anyway to help the Matoran. Some of their arms were reaching upwards out of the lava as they slowly sank beneath its depth, he could see a few of their masks, still with a Skull Spider attatched above the surface before they sank as well. Fury overtook Kaeren as he got to his feet. He turned towards the nearest Skull Spider and unleashed a blast of flame from his palm, knocking it into the lava.
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Some Legends aren’t what they should’ve been. You know the drill, you have your dashing heroes who gain mysterious powers, use it to combat evil, restore hope, and strive to save the land from peril. Things that have been apparent ever since the Toa first arrived on Mata Nui. But what if things didn’t go the way they were supposed to? What if the dashing heroes used their newfound powers for evil? What if they used them to side with evil and crush hope? What if they were determined to drive the land into even more peril? This is what would happen if fate didn’t take the path it intended to… prepare to take a look into an alternate world, where heroes are not always destined to be heroes… Gathered friends, listen again to the legend of the Bionicle… But not like you’ve ever heard it before. BIONICLE: RISE OF THE ANTAGONA PROLOGUE In a distant silver sea, a barren realm lay. This realm was home to the maddest of rulers, the great Karzahni. In turn, the realm was as mad as he was, with burning ice, cold fire, and vicious creatures. It would be suicide for anyone to purposely go into such a place. But someone did. In fact, six fearless Matoran ventured into the chaotic realm. They might’ve just never come there in the first place if they knew what would happen to them… They were soon captured by Karzhani’s elite guards, and set to work. If any of them stopped working and lay down to rest, they would instantly freeze into rock. The fact that their new master was a remorseless slave driver didn’t help. However, Karzahni had a soft spot for one of his workers, a Ga-Matoran named Hahli. She told him all about the outside world he knew nothing about, of the great metropolis that was Metru Nui, and the fabled oceans surrounding Mata Nui. After a full day of work, a brave Ko-Matoran tried to taunt him, but the overlord protested, saying that he wasn’t worth his time. However, the Matoran grew persistent, and eventually pushed Karzahni over the edge, demanding that he show him the worst thing possible. He Did. With his mask of alternate futures, he materialized a vision in each of the opposing Matoran’s minds. Karzahni showed the Matoran what would happen if their fabled leader, the Great Spirit Mata Nui, failed to wake up and was cast into oblivion. Chaos and darkness gripped the land. Shadows reigned unchallenged. The bravest heroes were turned into hopeless wrecks. And above all, the entire universe would fall into eternal madness. All the Matoran broke down in wake of this terrifying vision, yet Karzahni was distracted by the thoughts of this “Mata Nui”, this “Great Spirit”, unwittingly giving time for the Matoran to escape. In another universe, the Matoran would carry on to their destination, Voya Nui, to finish their mission. But this is not that universe. As they made their way to the Toa Canisters, they were stopped by Hahli. She told them that Karzahni had other plans for them, that what they were doing was wrong, and if they carried on, their vision would come true. They hesitated for a second, and that cost them their freedom as Karzahni stopped pondering and started after the Matoran. He heard what Hahli had said, and knew that everything was going to plan. In the conversation that followed, Karzahni told them that what they had been told was all lies, and that they were only on a suicide mission to Voya Nui. Protesting, a brave-sounding Ta-Matoran told him that none of what he said was true, and that they had to escape to save Mata Nui. So Karzahni did one more thing to convince them to stay. His mask glowed once again, and showed all the Matoran what would happen if they carried on to Voya Nui. He showed them vicious monsters, cataclysmic volcanic eruptions, death of their most beloved friends, and above all, the entire island of Mata Nui, which had once been their home, desolate and destroyed before their very eyes. The Matoran despaired upon seeing the vison, and the horrors that they witnessed were enough to drive their minds directly away from ever heading towards VoyaNui. Upon seeing the horrors Karzahni directed at them, they vowed never to let what they saw ever happen. What happened to them next remains a mystery, but despite their vision, they left the realm of Karzahni a few days later, on route to Voya Nui. What fate had in store for them, as well as Karzahni’s full intentions were, still remained a mystery. But they carried on regardless of what they saw, after all, visions were visions, just projected paranoia of a madman. They had already learned what they needed to do when they arrived. Soon they left the silver sea, and into realms unknown. A storm raged around them, pitching and rolling the canisters in all directions, sometimes in the space of a minute. Despite this, the Matoran stuck together, connected by a seemingly invisible rope. Then the lightning struck. Red lightning, beaming down from the heavens, hit all six of the canisters floating on the ocean. At first, nothing apparent happened, but when the canisters reached the shores of Voya Nui and opened, the Matoran inside… were changed. Crawling out from their ocean-battered canisters, the six figures stood up to their full height, much taller than any of them originally were, now bearing weapons glowing with immense power and armour made from precious materials. They had become Toa. But inside, they were anything but. It was at this point they remembered Karzahni’s orders. The six Toa turned towards the jungles, the lakes, even the volcano of the island, with one thing in mind: storm the island, enslave the inhabitants, Find the fabled Mask of Life, and raze the whole place to the ground. They were no longer Toa, as that name was only for stuck-up, righteous heroes. They were the Antagona, Destructive emissaries of Karzahni. Six corrupt monsters, one destiny. This is their story. This story was initially inspired by a Prompt from the alternate universe game by Dr. Johnathan Crane. Thanks, Crane! [post=http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/13875-the-alternate-universe-game/?p=794399]The Prompt in question.[/post] This is my first attempt at writing a Bionicle-based story. This one focuses around the idea that the Toa Inika became villains instead of heroes. Yes, I'm well aware that "Antagona" Is directly inspired by "Antagonist", but then again, most '06-onwards Bionicle words are sometimes based on english. Comments, Criticism and feedbacks are welcome. I hope you enjoy this tale, and look forward to future chapters!
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Link to Epic Hey, y'all! Thanks for taking a look at my first Epic since 2007! (I know, I'm equally shocked). Any comments, criticism, and otherwise thoughts on it will be extremely appreciated! And again, thanks for taking time to read it. Hopefully it's half decent
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A Mystery Explored Chapter 1 Ajura barely twirled her finger, making the water sphere rotate on its axis. She usually did this to unwind after a day of dealing with irascible Matoran, or to clear her mind and focus on a problem at hand. Having to separate a physical altercation between two Ko-Matoran and their slightly different predictions on the star’s alignment counted as both. How simple, yet complex, she mused. A perfect sphere, but with a simple yet small flicker of my wrist, and it becomes an entirely different shape. The ball was now a diamond. From a continuous, smooth surface, to seemingly solid sides. The intricacy… The droplets flew out of her hand violently, splashing against the wall. And there’s someone who isn’t intricate in any way, Ajura thought. “Having fun twisting some droplets around?” asked Orde. “It’s as if you want to go back and spend your days studying the thing. Does controlling water mean nothing to you?” “Oh, it means quite a lot,” Ajura said as she stood up from her chair to face Orde fully. “I can control it, yes. Does that mean I spend my days over a desk trying to study water or Liquid Protodermis from far away? Not anymore. But now that I control it, it affords me so many more opportunities to learn. One door opens up, leading to a thousand corridors.” Orde couldn’t hold his snicker. “I’m sorry… corridors? I didn’t realize you were also into architecture. Here, I’ll call that Po-Matoran Hafu and tell him that you don’t really want to be a Toa anymore, that you want to design houses now.” Ajura’s expression didn’t change. “You really think you’re funny, don’t you?” “It could also be me having subconsciously projecting so many of my famed jokes into your head that now you consider them funny.” Ajura smiled. “Look at that, you might actually have an actual sense of humor after all.” “Yeah, well, humor isn’t gonna do much during our next patrolling session.” “No?” Ajura was bringing the droplets back near her palm. “You might be able to use it to get some Matoran to stop fighting each other.” “Or I could also use the more direct formula.” “Even though violently flinging Matoran against a wall using your telekinesis doesn’t actually fix anything.” “Alright, first, I was talking about that Doom Viper I stunned using that telekinesis, and second, you can’t just shoot all of my ideas down!” “No promises.” Before Orde’s retort, the high-pitched dinging noise that signaled someone entering the Toa Base rang. “Looks like I’ll get to test more of my strategies sooner than I expected,” Orde beamed. Ajura unsheathed her Water Sabre and followed Orde. She wanted to keep close to him in case he decided that the area was too peaceful for his taste. *** If they had to guess, the next block of foundries would be as calm and serene as the last seven had been. Ajura and Orde had been patrolling for about three hours now, and nothing seemed to be amiss in Ta-Metru. Two more blocks and they were off to Le-Metru. “It’s odd, isn’t it?” “What is?” Ajura asked, scanning for any signs of trouble. “You’d think that with this place being so… non-temperature friendly, the Matoran here would be more hot-headed.” “There’s only one hot-headed being here, and it sure isn’t a Matoran.” Orde let the jab at him slide, but he nonetheless stopped walking abruptly. “What is it?” “Ajura, just because I was never a Matoran doesn’t mean you can classify me as a being, or make fun of who I am.” “Orde, it was just teasi-“ “I DON’T LIKE IT!” The outer wall of one of the foundries began to shake violently. “Orde, please calm down!” “JUST BECAUSE I WASN’T A MATORAN DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T FEEL LIKE THEY DO, OR CAN CARE ABOUT THEM.” “ALRIGHT, I GET IT! BUT CALM DOWN OR ELSE YOU’LL BE HURTING OTHER MATORAN!” Orde paused and looked at the wall that was beginning to cave in. He’d let his telekinesis run rampant. He breathed, and used his telekinesis to try and return the wall to the shape it once was. “What do you think you’re doing to my foundry?!” asked a Ta-Matoran that ran out of the disfigured building. “Apologies for that. We’ll have it fixed,” said Ajura. “Yeah well, you’d better!” Orde eyed him as he scurried back to his foundry. “I don’t trust him.” “Yeah, well, I don’t think he trusts us much either thanks to your temper tantrum.” Ajura made a mental note to send someone to fix the wall. Orde was great at punching holes, but his psionic powers weren’t as powerful as to allow him to undo the damage. She pushed Orde along. “In all seriousness, think about it, Ajura. No conflict, no fight between Matoran? How come Ta-Metru is that quiet? Heck, how come the entire island is this calm?” “You’d have the League to thank for that. You know that.” “The League? I have to thank a band of tyrannical despots who decided to form a trade pact with Metru Nui that leaves us out of their dealings?” “Orde, we’ve spoken about this. You have no proof that the League of Six Kingdoms is tyrannical. Are they the rulers of our universe? Yes, they were appointed as such by Mata Nui. Does this mean there could be someone else that could be ruling? Certainly. But we have no proof or evidence that they are such cruel leaders as you like to think about them.” Orde folded his arms. “That’s easy for you to say. We have to stay here and not see what’s going on out there.” “Well, it’s not like we have much of a ch-“ “TOA!” Orde and Ajura turned around to notice another Ta-Matoran running towards them with an expression of anguish on his face. They quietly glanced at each other, worried at the Matoran’s state. “Please, you have to come with me!” “Of course. Your name?” “M… Maglya. Please, come with me Toa!” Ajura, why is he leading us to his foundry? Why not tell us here? I don’t know about you, but this seems slightly off, projected Orde into Ajura’s head. As the more diplomatic and level-headed of the two, she would be better suited to get the answer out of the Matoran. “We will, Maglya. We just need to know, why not tell us here?” “It’s about the Archive Mole infestation. They’ve been fighting amongst themselves and destroyed much of my property!” Wait, Ajura. Don’t Archive Moles work together? “We understand, Maglya. We’ll go with you to figure out the problem.” *** Maglya’s veiled message had indeed been hidden as a code. When the three of them were inside Maglya’s foundry, where the sound of the Matoran working was loud enough, he told the Toa this would be a safe place where no one would be able to eavesdrop on them. “Why would someone evasedrop?” “Because of what you yourself were saying, Toa! You know, about the League.” Ajura looked at Orde with annoyance. “Maglya, I understand that you are worried of the state of other islands,” assured Ajura. “But we have no proof of what my friend here was saying. So let’s deal with the situation at hand. What’s the problem?” Slightly off-put by Ajura’s dismissal of Orde’s comments, Maglya paused and then resumed. “My friend… Kadira. Po-Matoran living on the Tren Krom Peninsula, I… we send each other letters ever since he was relocated there. Even with the League’s conquest of the Northern Continent Kadira has always been able to stay in contact with me. Sure, the letters arrive late, and other times they might get lost, but I always know how he’s doing. In his last letter he told me that he was relocating in secret, to go to a better place. He said he’d send me a message again once he was there.” Orde crossed one leg over the other. “Alright, so why hasn’t he answered back?” “I don’t know, but the point is I got that letter seven months ago! I’ve written three more times and no responses have returned.” Ajura felt pity for the Matoran, but knew that they couldn’t go around helping every Matoran in a pickle. “Alright, anything else we should know?” “In the letter, he… well, he highlighted some of the letters. And they spell out something.” Maglya pulled out the letter. It was worn down, as if it had been folded, clutched, hidden, and clutched over again. Order didn't need his telepathy to know how much pain Kadira's disappearance was causing Maglya. Under every few letter there was a line under it. Not too visible from far away, but from close up it was quite evident: VALMAI MANGAIA “Well,” whispered Ajura wide-eyed. “That’s not foreboding or anything.” Orde couldn’t contain the smile. “Does this mean we get to go out there and see what’s going on?” Ajura didn’t want to leave. Metru Nui had a certain safety, and their team hadn’t communicated with any Toa outside the island for a long time now. But there was something in this story that suggested that there were deeper layers. Only scholars like the Ko-Matoran and Ga-Matoran knew these archaic terms that well. Why this Po-Matoran from the Northern Continent knew them, she had no clue. And even though the term ‘Mangaia’ was more understandable, ‘Valmai’ wasn’t the kind of word she’d hear from a Matoran, unless there was something very serious going on. Was this Matoran insane? Had he learned something that had put him at risk? Ajura wasn’t sure. But it was worth investigating. Review Topic
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On December 1, I'll be posting the first chapter of A Play of Light. I've finished revising the first half of the book, and this probably was the harder half as I wrote it longer ago when I was still piecing together the story. Had to rewrite and tighten up a few parts, but otherwise it's looking like a solid submission for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy.
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It's October 23 and I've already broken a few goals already. 1. Expected the epic to be less than 100,000 words. It isn't, and looks likely to be nearly 130,000. 2. Also expected it to be less than 300 pages, and looks to be closer to 350. 3. Final scene needs not one, not two, but THREE chapters to wrap up. I had all the action in my head for over a year now, but as I began to write it out I realized just how much there was to cover. It's amazing how so many things come together, and it's very important to negotiate them so that each thread gets its own worthy ending. On that note, I'm beginning the final scene. It should more or less roll out of me in the next week, so I believe I'm on track for December launch. Wanted to let you all know what's going on at this time. Hope you can wait a bit longer! =)
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Spherus Quest: An Episodic Comedy Adventure Character Bios coming soon... Preface Once, every 1000 cycles of the machinations of the known and unknown dimensions of existence and non-existence, a comedy line dances into the Grand Ol’ Oprey of life that escapes the meager limits of language cobbled together by the feeble minds of Matoran. Although severely limited in their ability to describe the glorious lovechild of hilarity and wit that is this comedy, many eons of intense delegation among the foremost seers and scientists that are able to call a giant robot their home have refined their sacred chants into a few sentences… “Pretty good, but I was a little lost there, and this guy already did something like that a year ago. Here’s the link. I’m getting a mod to close this thread.” So much for the tongues of Matoran. Regardless, this comedy has seen fit to grace the presence of your computer screen, Bionicle fan. In doing so, it has caused the room you are now sitting in to be saturated by holy light, and converted your pc or phone or tablet or magic mirror or potato into a holy computer. You’re welcome. Your specific device can now run Battlefield 4 on medium graphical settings and comes with a gift card for 20 dollars in Steam wallet funds. … Wait, why are you still here? Huh, you still want to read this? Really? Wow, ok… Gosh, really? That’s super cool of you. To be honest, I didn’t think anybody would get this far. I guess I’ll write something up real quick Well, here you go. CHAPTER 1 The Toa Nuva begin to discuss with the Agori leader Raanu the terms for building a Matoran refuge on the newly reconstructed planet of Spherus Magna. Although now considered beautiful and life sustaining, the planet still had its share of new dangers and challenges... Tahu: That direction. It’s perfect. Raanu: Our Thornax bushes are that way. Tahu: Okay… that other perfect direction. Right there. Raanu: That’s our other Thornax spot. Tahu: That way? Raanu: Thornax Tahu: (Points up) Raanu: Thornax Tahu: (Points down) Raanu: Thor- Tahu: (Points angrily at Lewa) Raanu: Hmmm… Tahu: What’s with you people and Thornax!? Raanu: What’s with you people and living!? Tahu: Look, we need a place to build a freaking Matoran City! For Matoran! By Matoran! Maybe if you, like, grew food instead of Thornax you wouldn’t be subsisting off of a gladiatorial combat system Raanu: Don’t be confoundin’ me wiff yur fancy orthopedics, boy. I like my innards where they be. Gali: Sir, this may be a better question: where are the Thornax NOT? (Raanu’s eyes glass over) Gali: Sir? Lewa: I think you broke it. (Gali splashes water on the Agori’s face) Raanu: I told ya’ he was lyin' on the floor this mornin’! Onua: Easy, old timer. Agori: Sorry, youngins, I thought I heard somebody mention Thornax and a negative word in the same sentence… Kopaka: Sir, we just need an area where the Agori wouldn’t mind us building a new home for the Matoran. Raanu: Why are you white? Lewa: Ohmygosh… Kopaka: We’re not going there. Cykron: Yes sir. Kopaka: Any ideas old man? Agori: I had a few , Casper, if you’d let me think. Kopaka: Ok we’re already done professionally. Cykron: Couldn’t resist. Pohatu: I just had a super cool idea! Onua: No Pohatu: Brother, there are no Mahi around. Anywhere. At all. Gali: Wait, what Mahi? Onua: (Sticks finger in Gali's face) Exactly. (Awkward silence) Pohatu: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT AND YOU KNOW IT. Onua: LIES. Gali: Quiet! What's your idea, Pohatu. Pohatu: . Anyway, why don’t we build a city that can house both Matoran and Agori peacefully? Gali: Sounds good to me. Lewa: Sure. Tahu: Dibs on mayor. Kopaka: … Onua: THEY WERE SO FULL OF LIFE. Raanu: Never eat asparagus before goin’ on a date, boys. Take it from me. Turaga Duma: Dibs on mayor. Tahu: NOW WAIT JUST A SEC- Oh, hello wise one. When did you get here? Turaga Dume: I'm with you, always. Tahu: That’s terrifying. Turaga Duma: Yes. Raanu: Is it dark in here or am I having a stroke… Kopaka: I sincerely hope it’s the latter. Raanu: Ow yep, still white. (The other Turaga approach, along with other Turaga from other unknown regions of the recently destroyed Matoran Universe) Vakama: Have we reached a verdict, friends? Tahu: Raanu should not be leading his own life, let alone a nation of Agori. Vakama: Yes, we will take care of that soon enough. (Scary music plays. Raanu eats a fig newton, because that’s what old people eat.) Cykron: This writing stuff is easy! Vakama: Have you come to a conclusion of where to build a new Matoran/Agori city? Gali: We have a few ideas. Vakama: (Gesturing for the other Turaga to form around him) Let’s hear it. Roughly ten minutes later… Duma: Then it is decided. We will arrange a small scouting party of six capable Matoran to venture into the newly reformed wilds of Spherus Magna in order to find the ideal location for our new city. Whenua: Why only six? Duma: It’s served us pretty well so far. Whenua: Why Matoran? Duma: Because we need all of the Toa we can spare to guard the rest of the Matoran here. Whenua: Why… Cykron: Because I came up with this story in the five minutes between calculus and english class. Whenua: Ah. Duma: Any other questions? Whenua: Well, I- Duma: Anyone at all? Whenua: I just- Vakama: I think we’re good here. Nuju: *Whistles* Vakama: Haha oh, Nuju! *Everyone laughs* *Raanu dies* Stay tuned for Chapter 2!
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Welcome all to my new Bionicle Epic! This records the travels of Kordé, a De-Matoran as he embarks on many adventures across the Universe. Review topic: http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/14806-review-topic-foundations-of-war/ Part I ~ The Enemy is Masked Chapter I Kordé walked down a long pathway. It was made of gravel and was covered on both sides by tall grass. Looking around, he saw the many workers of the land. He was a De-Matoran, clad in black noble Ruru. The Matoran of this faction were a conglomeration of the various breeds. According to legend, a large group of Matoran from different settlements arrived on the island from the north. They were radically different in design and culture, making them one of the most diverse settlements in the universe. That is, until The Death struck. The Death was a disease that came from a location unknown to even the brightest minds of the Koro. When it struck the Matoran, their histories were dimmed to the point in which memories seemed like vague dreams. They were also physically weakened. The weakness was so horrible that they all looked the same after it was eradicated: no higher than two feet. After The Death, the Matoran chose a leader among them. Her name was Naugall, a Bo-Matoran, who was the one least affected by the plague. Although her bodily form was diminished just like the others, her memories were the least tainted. Because of this, everyone looked to her for sage guidence. Kordé’s errand was not to work, for he had already finished his shift. His mission took him outside the wall. After Naugall was elected the ruler, she organized the Matoran into one village: The Koro. The Koro is located on a peninsula at the north western point of the island. At the edge of the land that the Matoran cultivated, a wall was erected. It was made from rock mined by the Onu-Matoran in the deep places of the world. Naugall claimed that beyond the wall rested The Wild, where dark things sleep. Despite this, Kordé did not fear The Wild. In fact, he was intrigued by it. The guards at the wall were lenient and did not care if anything left the walls...so long as anything other than a Matoran didn't come back in. After around thirty minutes or so of walking he finally arrived at the entrance. They saw him approaching, so they began to pull the wrench. The old stone doors groaned and creaked as their ancient mechanisms came to life once more. As Kordé ventured into The Wild, he turned left. There he saw The Wold, which was the great forest that grew near the wall. He walked on the path that he blazed for himself long ago. “Today, I’m going to go further than I've gone before,” he said to himself. Most of the time he would walk until it got too steep and then he’d turn back. This time, he planned to go further and see what was at the summit of the land’s elevation. He passed by the same old trees and the same old plants. There were occasional pockets of ferns that grew every so often. He learned from Gaffo, another Bo-Matoran, that ferns liked cool climates. “If you’re stuck in The Wold and you’re overheating,” she once said. “Then find a patch of ferns and make camp there. They enjoy cooler microclimates, so that’s a clear indication of a good spot to rest.” Although it was never so hot that he needed to do that, he often remembered Gaffo’s words, for they might be useful some day. He found the tree that he would often rest under. Its long and gnarled roots were exposed from the ground and offered a naturally-made bed. Kordé paused there for a moment, however didn't plan on resting for very long. It was then that he noticed something odd. The ferns up ahead were smothered down. Walking over to investigate, he assumed that a rahi rested there a while ago. However there was something shiny on the ground. Getting down on his knees, he looked closer. They were daggers. On the bottom they were flat, and on the top they had rounded sides. This gave them a three-sided tip. Kordé put them into his knapsack. Returning to the trail, he continued on his walk. Some fifteen minutes later, he saw another Matoran ahead of him. He wore a grey Great Huna. He called out to him. “Hello, there!” The Matoran looked up at Kordé and blinked a few times as if coming out from a daze. There was a long pause between the two. “Hello?” Silence. Many minutes of awkwardness passed. And then out of nowhere, the Matoran reared back its head and broke out into a sprint toward him. “Wait, what are you doing?” shouted Kordé, turning around to flee. It wasn’t long before the attacker had overtaken him. Kordé tripped on a root and fell on the ground, the contents of his knapsack spilling over the ground. Scrambling to his feet, he picked up the two daggers that he had collected earlier. The attacker was now upon him. Kordé threw the first blade at him. It hit with grim accuracy and sank into his chest. The Matoran staggered backward a few paces, but began chase once more. Surprised, Kordé ran up to him and drove the blade into the left eyehole of its mask. The body collapsed, but not without stirring. It was soon back on its feet, chasing him once more. Just when it was about to tackle Kordé, he heard a whiz in the air, followed by a twang. Then another, and then another. Turning around, he saw that his attacker was being loaded with arrows. More and more kept coming and striking until it looked like the Matoran had turned into a porcupine. Into view came a giant. It was towering and intimidating, and wielded a long bow with black-feathered arrows. He bore a handsome noble Kakama. He was grey and black. “That little guy probably won't cause anymore problems now,” he said in a strange tone. The giant walked towards Kordé. “Hello, there small one. What are you doing so far from The Koro?” “I...I come to The Wold every day.” “Hm, that is good, that is good. I cherish in some company every so often. Tell me small one, what is your name?” “Um...Kordé…” “Kordé. Good strong name. Mine is Fhargall. It is nice to meet you. Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got to get down to business.” Fhargall bent down and pulled out the daggers from the Matoran’s body. He handed them to Kordé. “Those are made from some quality metal.” “Um...excuse me...mister…” “Yes?” “What are you?” “Why, I’m a Fa-Matoran, a musician, a traveler, a frontiersman, and an explorer.” “H...how? How are you a Matoran? You’re HUGE!” “I’m not a Matoran from around here, let’s say. But that is a tale for a different time. Now, let’s get down to business.” He then proceeded to examining the satchel that the Matoran had. He noticed that Kordé was still looking slightly stunned. “What’s wrong, little one?” he asked. “You...you just killed him…” “No, that poor fellow died long ago. His body was reanimated by...someone. Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him. I rather disabled his bodily functions. His spirit departed from this plane of existence many years ago from the looks of it.” Kordé, still quite unsure of the situation, sat down. Fhargall was still rummaging through the dead Matoran’s satchel. “Why did he attack me?” “Well, whoever reanimated his body wanted put him here to guard one of three things: A person, a location, or an object. Seeing that there is no one else here, we can rule out the first option. He could have also been guarding the location, which is unlikely because you come here frequently, so he would have attacked you before then. That leaves the third option to be the most likely.” “How do you know so much about this?” “Experience, lad! Experience.” He continued rummaging. “Actually, I do not believe that he was placed here to be a guard at all. In fact, he was probably a courier who saw you as something that would jeopardize his mission. And I think I’ve found something…” He held aloft a glass orb, solid black like the night. “Interesting,” he said, placing it into his pack. He got up to his feet. “Say, Kordé...would you like to stay with me for the night? I’ve been very lonely wandering these woods alone.” Kordé was unsure as to how he should answer. “Can I trust you?” “Little one, if I was untrustworthy then I would have killed you right now on the spot. However I have not. I have the weaponry to do so, but I chose not to.” “Yes, but you could kill me later.” “True, but if I were to do that then I would not be bringing the topic of the conversation to the prospect of me slaying you.” Kordé pondered this. “Um...alright. I’ve always wanted to sleep in the woods for some time now.” Very well. I’ve made camp just up trail. Follow me.” On the way, Fhargall pulled out a guitar-like instrument, and began to play a tune. He began to sing to it, his harmonious voice blending richly with the nature around them. Kordé couldn’t quite describe what Fhargall sang, but it was a mixture of the songs and customs of the many cultures of the world, so fabulously weaved together in perfect unison. It was like magic. When they arrived at Fhargall’s camp, it was nearly nighttime. His tent was made of leather with several cloth patches in it. Once there, Fhargall began to build a fire while Kordé sat and watched. “So, little one. Do you have any questions for me?” he casually asked. “Um...yes...I do. Why are you so tall?” “Haha, you’re inquisitive! Well, I shall tell you little one.” He walked over and sat next to Kordé on the log. “You see, I’m an adventurer. I’m a traveler. And as a journeyman, I have seen many different cultures, and heard many tales. Ones of courageous heroes and diabolical villains. Of justice and treachery. You see long ago, when the world was new, there was a noble Matoran named…” The melodic sounds of Fhargall’s voice caused Kordé to nod off to sleep. He was awaken by a stiff prod in the stomach. “Sit up, but don’t make a sound,” hissed Fhargall. Slowly, Kordé rose and sat on the log. “We are being watched,” he whispered, gesturing to a pair of eyes in a distant shrub. A second after Kordé saw them, they disappeared. He also saw another pair in a tree, but it too vanished. “Keep low, and have your daggers at the ready,” he said. Fhargall placed a lone arrow on his bow, and drew back the string. Kordé held his twin blades tightly in his hands. The forest around them was alive with the unknown foes. Each second seemed like a year as they stood perfectly still. At last, Fhargall released the bow from the string, and it whizzed through the air. The muffled yelp that followed indicated that it had struck the intended target. Moments later, Kordé saw nothing more than the blackness of the bodies that were mobbing on top of him.
