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Hafu looked incredulously at a hazy blue figure in the near distance. At first, he thought the heat was making him see things. He shook his head, but the figure remained. In fact, it came closer, revealing itself to be a Ga-Matoran, wearing what appeared to be a dark blue Kaukau. It seemed to Hafu, that she was admiring one his many stone sculptures. “Ho ho, what is this?” he said to the newcomer. “A fan of my work? I am not signing any autographs today, sorry!” The Ga-Matoran looked at Hafu, slightly surprised. “Uh, hello there,” she replied. “Who are you?” “What?” exclaimed Hafu, a little shocked. “Surely you recognized the master carver Hafu when you see him?” The Ga-Matoran squinted. “I’m pretty sure ‘the master carver’ wears a Pakari, not a Ruru.” “I assure, my lady,” responded Hafu, trying to hide the fact of his hurt pride, “that I am in fact the master carver.” The Ga-Matoran shrugged, deciding to humour the Po-Matoran who claimed himself to be Hafu. “Anyway, what brings a water maiden all the way here to our arid village?” “Kohlii,” replied the Ga-Matoran. “I’m here for the Kohlii match. I’m the Ga-Koro forward.” “Oh, so you’re Hahli!” cried Hafu. “A pleasure to finally meet you! Hewkii’s told me about you. You’ll be going against him and me. I’m the Po-Koro defender, you know. I hope you’re prepared; we’re Kohlii champions for a reason!” “Oh, I’m more than prepared,” said Hahli, surprising Hafu with her confidence. “Question is: are you two prepared?” Hafu was taken aback but quickly found his composure. “Definitely,” he remarked. At that moment Hafu remember Hahli’s teammate. “Tell me, Hahli, is Macku with you?” “Oh, she’s right behind me. I decided to come a little early.” A short silence followed. “Anyway,” continued Hahli, “It was nice meeting you, ‘Hafu’. I’m off to check out the stadium. See you at the game!” Hafu didn’t know how to respond, all he could muster was: “Yeah, uh, see you!” Hahli continued her way down the Path of Prophecies. There was another Po-Matoran working on one of the sculptures – one who seemed to wear a brown Mahiki. He turned to greet her. “Hello, Ga-Matoran!” he said, courteously. “What brings you here to our wonderful village of Po-Koro?” Hahli smiled. “I’m here for the Kohlii match,” she answered. “Hahli, Ga-Koro forward. I was just done speaking to your defender, the one who claims to be the great Hafu.” “Yes, the one with an identity crisis,” chuckled the Po-Matoran. He dropped his pick and held out his hand. “Kamen the stonemason, at your service.” Hahli shook it gladly. Her gaze flew over the sculptures that surrounded them. “So, you and the Hafu impersonator over there take care of these sculptures?” “Yes, we are constantly taking care of the sculptures, so that they do not Disintegrate! Time and weather take their toll on our great works, wearing them down into dust. Disintegration is the enemy of Creation!” “Creation,” pondered Hahli. “Is that the principle that you Po-Matoran live by?” “Exactly!” Kamen was pleasantly surprised at the Ga-Matoran’s knowledge. “By combining the Virtues of Unity and Destiny, taught to us by Mata Nui, we have become skilled in Creation! And it is from our Principle that we learn our Kohlii Skill – Strategy!” He looked around to see if anyone was listening and added, quietly: “Take my advice, maiden. Seek out the Mahi Herder just outside of the village, he can teach you about our skill. Hewkii visits him to train - if you visit him too, you might actually stand a chance against our champions.” Hahli smiled. “Now, I shan’t neglect my Duty for too long. Farewell, Hahli, and good luck!” Hahli bid Kamen farewell and continued into Po-Koro. The Po-Matoran turned back to his work. “Can you believe it, Kamen?” He turned. Hafu was standing next to him, looking irritated. “She didn’t recognize me! And she had the gall to question my identity!” “It’s your mask, Hafu,” replied Kamen, amused at his friend’s grievance. “Ever since you had it changed, you’ve been a different Matoran. Even I can’t recognize you when I see you!” Hafu grumbled, unimpressed. “Besides,” added Kamen, “Hahli’s probably only ever heard of you, so she couldn’t recognize you. You mustn’t assume you’re THAT famous, Hafu.” Hafu grumbled further. “I’ll show her,” he muttered as he turned away. “I’ll show that Ga-Matoran.” Kamen laughed as he chipped at the stone. Masonry was hard work but having Hafu by his side made it entertaining. Hafu meanwhile had also returned to his work. He had barely begun when he felt he saw another blue figure in the distance. Upon closer inspection, it seemed the figure wore a Huna. Hafu dropped his tool and rushed to greet his comrade.
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Welcome to the review topic for Embers. This tale unfolds in an alternate timeline where the Great Spirit Robot mysteriously shuts down in the midst of Teridax’s takeover. In the wake of this second Great Cataclysm, lightstones and heatstones begin to dim and die throughout the universe, dooming its denizens to a dark, cold demise. Metru Nui – with lifegiving light still seeping through the sun holes overhead, and its cold streets heated by the fires of the Great Furnace – becomes the last bastion for the Matoran species. But when the city’s Toa depart to rescue Matoran still trapped out in the dark of the dying universe, they leave the populace vulnerable to the machinations of an unexpected enemy, and return to a city they no longer recognise. I won’t include content warnings for each specific chapter, so be aware that this story will have a darker tone, both literally and figuratively. There are no clear-cut heroes in Embers, no easy answers or perfect heroes. The story deals with themes of loss and despair, PTSD and misplaced faith, but also hope despite adversity, and unity against great odds. In chapters to come, there will be depictions of violence, mentions of suicide, ethical dilemmas, and bonkle-styled cursing. For the purists out there, be warned that within the world of Embers, genders aren’t locked to specific elements, romance does exist, and some aspects of Bionicle history have been reinterpreted. On a similar note, I generally prefer not to mess with canon characters too much when writing fanfics. As such, this story won’t be featuring too many familiar faces. I’ll leave it up to the imagination of readers as to whether there were simply different heroes in this universe, or if the heroes of prime canon met with unfortunate fates off-screen. Those who’ve read some of my older stories on this site, or have played with me over on the RPG forum, may also recognise some names or character concepts. That’s just me recycling old ideas I like; no prior knowledge of older versions of those characters is required, and they will likely be portrayed differently in this story anyway (though I may slip in some sneaky references on occasion). With all of that out of the way, any feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy Embers. Book 1 - Darkness Book 2 - Duty Book 3 - Disunity Book 4 - Death Book 5 - Divinity Book 6 - Defiance
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Prologue – Dying Of The Light From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. Deep down, everyone’s afraid of the dark. It’s a powerful, primal thing, an instinct born long before any of us were created. In the dark, anything could be waiting. A ravenous rahi, a roving Rahkshi, Karzahni or Irnakk or Tren Krom or any one of the other nightmares of legend. But now we know there’s nothing waiting for us in the dark. Nothing at all. And somehow, that makes it even more frightening. Two years have passed since everything changed. Two years since the Turaga of Metru Nui sent the universe’s greatest Toa heroes to Karda Nui to reawaken the Great Spirit, a mission from which they never returned. Two years since the day that the stars formed the shape of the Kanohi Kraahkan and Makuta Teridax proclaimed his dominion over creation. Two years since war and strife wracked our universe. Two years since the terrible earthquake, and the even more terrifying stillness that followed it. Two years since the lightstones started to die. It started small, at first. Old stones fizzling out, as they sometimes did. But then newer stones started to die as well. Even the fresh ones dug out of the mines seemed dimmer. And then, within only a few weeks, there were no functioning lightstones left to be found. We could still hook them up to the city’s generators and charge them that way, but whatever had once empowered them naturally no longer worked. Soon, the same thing started to happen to our heatstones. And it wasn’t just Metru Nui. Boats began to arrive, ferrying Matoran, Turaga, and Toa from shores far afield, where the dark and cold had rendered entire lands unliveable. I myself was among them. Only the heat of the Great Furnace and the lifegiving light of Twin Suns still shining high overhead had kept Metru Nui from meeting the same fate. The city welcomed the refugees with open arms, of course. More Matoran meant more workers to help keep the city functioning enough for us all to continue surviving. More Turaga meant more wisdom to aid in navigating our new situation. More Toa meant more protectors. However, we soon learned of one land that our fellow Matoran had been unable to leave. Though those who sailed past or docked to resupply said its streets remained busy and its foundries still spewed smoke, Xia hadn’t sent a single ship our way. A team of Toa were sent to meet with the Toa of Xia and arrange the relocation of their Matoran, but of the six who departed, only three returned. The tidings they brought were grim: the Vortixx of Xia had slain their city’s Toa team and taken the Matoran as slaves, forcing them to work the power plants to keep their city alive. And when they’d learned of new Toa in their midst, the Vortixx had promptly tried to kill them as well. Debate raged for days, but the decision was never in doubt. The last fifty Toa in existence departed for Xia, intent on liberating the trapped Matoran. Weeks passed, and a lone boat limped back to Metru Nui, bearing four injured Toa and a few dozen rescued Matoran. Their report on the situation in Xia was a dire one. Embroiled in a battle to liberate the Matoran, the Toa had found themselves caught in an unexpected crossfire. From the South had come the Dark Hunters, intent on taking the city’s technology and power for themselves. And from the East had come the Skakdi hordes, seemingly motivated by nothing more than a defiant desire to end their lives fighting in the universe’s last great war, instead of dying quietly in the dark. We waited for our Toa to return. We prayed to our absent Great Spirit. Some even offered prayers to Makuta Teridax. Neither god answered us. A few brave Matoran even boarded a boat and set sail for Xia. They didn’t return either. And still, the rest of us waited. And waited. More than a year passed before the Toa finally came home, but the world they found was not the one they had left behind. And the world they made was not one any of us expected.
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So I was browsing the Slovenian online marketplace the other day and I found a guy selling a used Mata Tahu for 15 euros. I looked at that ad and thought to myself: do I really need a Toa Mata Tahu? I came to the conclusion that, no, I do not in fact need a Toa Mata Tahu. I want one. And I’m glad I bought it, because he is wonderful. He’s complete (although I did need to swap out the grey head piece) and he has wonderfully tight ball sockets for a 24 year old figure. And it just so happens that my brother has his golden Hau. Here he is with that Hau. 😁
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Sighting No. 1: Po-Koro Scorched sands shifted as a soft breeze blew across the Motara Desert, the only sound on what was otherwise a quiet, uneventful day in the dry region of Mata Nui. Ally was keeping watch on the village wall of Po-Koro, leaning on a stone and playing with his disk. Every so often he would gaze at the seemingly endless desert stretching out beyond the village like a waterless ocean. Ally threw his disk in the air, watching as it flew up spinning and froze in mid-air, before falling swiftly back down for him to catch. He was starting to consider marching up and down the wall just to break up the monotony of guard duty. When he would tire, he would go back to disk-throwing and then back to marching, a horrendously boring routine he was keeping up from morning and which he would continue to keep up until his watch was over. That was part of being a guard – a little action and a whole lot of vigilance and waiting. As the afternoon sun slowly inched towards the horizon, it seemed to Ally that there would be no action today. Sighing, he holstered his disk and walked closer to the wall to begin his march. As he approached the edge, however, he spotted a figure running across the desert, kicking up a large sand cloud as it went. He squinted. From his vantage point, the figure was too far to make out any details. From its posture it seemed like a quadruped. Its body was large and full. Was it a Muaka? Ally had heard of this creature from travellers’ whispers, but he wasn’t sure if there were any in Po-Wahi to be found. Suddenly, the mysterious Rahi-like figure stopped moving. It looked around itself, as if lost on unfamiliar territory. Then, much to Ally’s shock, it looked up in his direction. As far as it was, the Po-Matoran could’ve sworn it was looking directly at him. Just as the figure had done so, it was engulfed by the cloud it had created with its run. Ally felt for his disk, unnerved. But there were stranger things to come. The cloud started to drift in the direction of the village, carried by a howling wind. As it came closer and closer, it grew, until it was no longer a faint mist of sand but a giant impenetrable wall. “Sandstorm!” shouted Ally as loudly as he could. “Incoming sandsto-.” It hit him before he knew it. The wind was so strong, it carried him towards the edge of the staircase which led down to the village. Had Ally not grabbed a rock jutting out from the edge, he likely would’ve landed hard inside the village. As suddenly as the wind came it also disappeared. Ally climbed back up and ran back towards his vantage point. To his surprise, the desert was as calm as it was before. Nothing but scorched sands shifting in the breeze. “Ally!” It came from the village. Ally ran in the direction of the staircase. Looking down, he saw a familiar orange Kakama looking up at him. “Ally, are you alright?” “I’m fine, Huki,” the guard responded. “Did you feel that?” “We all felt it. What was that?” Ally wasn’t sure if he had an answer.
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Comments and suggestions regarding the multi-part story Sightings (https://www.bzpower.com/topic/36552-sightings-dark-times-day-one/) go here.
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Hello Everyone! I'm proud to myself to show you my work. The G1 Story Books in PDF format! Finished Books: CHRONICLESTale of the Toa: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAjTjUzY0NvZlVXb1k/view?usp=sharing Beware the Bohrok: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAjUUZoUExiUElYNk0/view?usp=sharing Makuta's Revenge: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAja3RheEFOaTVrdkU/view?usp=sharing Tales of the Masks: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAjMThGZVIweG9idTg/view?usp=sharing Mask of Light: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAjc05adE5GY3BPSkE/view?usp=sharingADVENTURESMystery of Metru Nui: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1a9tfUmfGoupNNEoPzTjEeWZCvnuF4q_jBARA MAGNAJourney's End: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_SlrBWfMDAjdDF5cWhzSlVqNTA/view?usp=sharingUpcoming Book: Trial by Fire
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Journey to Sri Lanka A ricreation of a Nymphaea Nouchali, the national flower of Sri Lanka. On top of it there's a Prodasineura Sita, a species of damselfly endemic to the same island. 08/08/24
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This was me last week because it's true, BIONICLE has been a huge inspiration on my writing, which is why I thanked the Greg man in my book's acknowledgements. Karzahni, I even put two obvious references in it. [I originally wrote this as a status update, because I didn't think anyone would want to read this, but since I'm just gushing about Bionicle, why not post it here?] In chapter 2: “I may not always agree with his methods…like using windows as doors, but as far as heroes go Cat-Man ranks.” And chapter 19, “With the added tension that we might be called upon at any second for operation free the band,” Jess said. In fact, this whole chapter is about the heroes having to rescue a rock band (called Corpse Lunge, yeah!) from a gang. No, I didn't base said band off the All American Rejects. I guess the rest of Bionicle's influences on my work are on the characters or things like my approach to world building and the dialogue. I feel like a lot of my villains' dialogue sounds straight out of '06-'09 Bionicle (so kind of edgy and cringe). I'm surprised that's all, especially considering I still think about Bionicle pretty frequently, although it's no longer my number one fandom now. True, a lot of that thinking is critically examining as an adult something that I loved as a child (which I do for a lot of media I like btw). These days, when it comes to actually reliving Bionicle, it's limited to re-watching TLB and re-reading some of the Legends books or comics. And of course, I'm listening to Bionicle music, while writing this. I know I'm not the first Bionicle fan to became a professional artist (or semi-pro in my case lol). I vaguely recall an epic posted here years ago called "Glitch in the System" written by...Lady Kopaka? that she rewrote and later self-published. Kind of wish I could find a copy, but I'm having trouble finding it. Anyway, for years I've said that proof Bionicle made it's mark is when new artists cite it as inspiring their work. Well, you know my motto: be the change you want to see. Bionicle's not dead as long as people like Nato G are making music for it, or other people are making other art for it or the archive is still up and running. Actually, they're probably a lot of Bionicle fans still keeping the dream alive, even if I don't know about most of them because I'm so inactive here. All that having been said, Bionicle's not dead as long I'm around and writing. You know what, why am I preaching to the choir? I need to go annoy people spread the way of the Bionicle somewhere else. Wow, all these words about being a huge fan and I can't think of a good Bionicle sendoff. Disgraceful. Oh well, windfly!
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Ballads of the Bionicle I've long been a fan of lore/character songs for my favourite franchises, but I was surprised to discover that there's not a lot of that kind of content around for Bionicle. Since I have no musical skill of my own, I started writing some lyrics and playing around with Suno AI to see what I could come up with. I was very impressed with what the AI has been able to produce, so I've decided to start uploading some of the better pieces to YouTube to share with the community. The first video went up this morning to coincide with 810NICLE Day: I know AI-generated content can be a controversial topic, so if it’s not your thing, I completely understand. I’m not trying to take anything away from the amazingly talented real musicians we have in our community. I'm creating these songs purely for fun, and make no profit from them. Free download links for the MP3s are included with each video for anyone who wants to have the songs. New tracks are scheduled to go up weekly, covering everything from the Matoran Universe, to Bara Magna, to G2, so make sure to subscribe to the channel if you're interested in hearing more. Check out the list below for direct links: Toa Nuva Song - Six Heroes, One Destiny Makuta Teridax Song - The Plan Turaga Vakama Song - A Leader's Lies Turaga Dume Song - My City Will Stand Makuta G2 Song - I'm Back! Miserix Song - The Dragon Lord Nektann Song - The Last Warlord Hakann Song - Flames of Ambition Thok Song - The Smartest Piraka Lesovikk Song - I Will Not Fail Takadox Song - Look Into My Eyes Tren Krom Song - The First Flesh Lariska Song - You'll See it Coming Helryx Song - Beyond Destiny Skrall Song - On The March Tahu Song - The Red One Bahrag Song - Stronger Together Matoro Song - Sacrifice Naming Day Song - Renamed
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Chloridifier Built for Round One of BioCup 2024, theme was Energy, subtheme Chemical energy. Since my subtheme was Chemical Energy I decided to build a creature based on acid, for the transparent container on the back I used a Toa Metru canister, for the body two Large Kiril masks from the Tower of Toa Playset. 12/06/2024
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Hello, I'm planning to run a space-themed Bionicle RPG on Discord, and I'm looking for some additional players. If you're interested, let me know and I can send you an invite to the Discord server. 200 years ago, the Spaceship Artakan crashed into the desolate planet of Omega, stranding a population of Agori settlers. Even worse, when they woke up from their cryo-sleep, a malfunction caused them to suffer amnesia, forgetting their mission and their past. With no hope of rescue, they struggled to build a new settlement in the narrow Twilight Band, the only habitable zone of the planet. Currently, their population has grown, but there is unrest between factions of the Agori, and strange earthquakes continue to threaten their new home. A class of recently graduated students now have a chance to further explore their world, to uncover the mysteries of their past and the strange planet around them. This is… Fourfold of Fate: Legacy of the Starship Artakan. Players will play Agori teenagers, recently graduated and ready to explore and put their talents to use. Players will have access to different mask powers, pets, and eventually all sorts of new tools and weapons, as they uncover mysteries, solve puzzles, and take part in occasional combat encounters. There will be four different routes the players can participate in. Underwater Exploration: Professor Sufina Blanca has taken an interest in the unexplored ocean beneath the icecap on the Cold Side. She desires to lead a team with a submersible to explore the depths and search for signs of life. This will feature Exploration, Puzzle Solving, and Teamwork. Underground Adventure: Eccentric technologist Fabarar DeepWood has discovered a radio signal that seems to originate south of the mountains. He wishes to travel beneath the mountains through the mines of Naxos to discover the source, in addition to scouting for new minerals and energy crystals to mine. This will feature Vehicular Operations, Technology, and Exploration. Investigating the Maze: Esteemed Adventurer Huaju Dolostone wishes to map out a route through the rugged canyons of the Maze to reach the other side of the planet, so they can further explore for more resources. This will feature Combat, Teamwork, and Diplomacy. Conspiracies and Politics: A lower class radical Eztli Aodh is seeking societal change, hoping to unearth conspiracies to turn the public against the ruling Orchids. She wants to lead a team to the wreckage of the Artakan and dig into the past. This will feature Politics, Investigation, and Espionage. More details can be found in the Intro Game Documentation. Hope to see you there!
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Hello everyone! 💗 I'd love to know which battle vehicle sets are your favorite and see if anyone likes the same ones I do :0 My favorite is the Rockoh-T3, I love the vehicle shaping and the little Pohatu riding it with a new mask design, such a good set in my eyes!
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This is the first episode of a BIONICLE documentary series I made with my friend Political_Slime, where we reveal the original pitch that kicked off constraction through an exclusive interview with Andrew Nagel, a design consultant. This is a story we uncovered back in September 2021. For many years, we thought Christian Faber's Cybots project in 1995 was what started the concept, but that turned out to not be the case. Hope you all enjoy this first ep!
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Vidrar Built for the First Round of Biocup 2022, the theme was Kaiju, Subtheme Aquatic. I created a microscale undersea station where humans captured one of Vidrar's pups... now she has found the human base and is very angry. For the fin I used one of Ben 10's dark blue rubber wings while the pups were created using a Visorak foot. 16/06/22
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One of the ideas I originally had for "The Referee" was a story chronicling the genesis of the popular Mata Nui game. While I ultimately went another direction with the aforementioned story, I felt the idea was too good not to use. So here is the story of Koli. Enjoy! Edit: changed the latter half of the story slightly. Thank you @Master Inika for the feedback. THE CREATION OF KOLI Small black figures were starting to appear on the desert horizon. As they neared the Path of Prophecies, they revealed themselves to be a cavalcade from Onu-Koro. In the front and back rode members of the Ussalry on crabs adorned in purple and black, flanking an older, larger Ussal in the middle. On that Ussal sat the village elder - Turaga Whenua. Turaga Onewa of Po-Koro stood on the village wall and anxiously watched the procession approach. The two Turaga had a matter of great urgency to discuss: a disagreement between members of their respective villages which, if ignored, could end in disaster. The Onu-Koro cavalcade stopped at the village entrance. The guards of Po-Koro exchanged looks with the members of the Ussalry. After a tense moment of silence, the Po-Matoran saluted and allowed the cavalcade to pass, although their gaze stood fixed on the congregation as it entered. Up above, Turaga Onewa sighed with relief and hurried back down. He found the newcomers dismounting their crabs in the nearby shade. The Onu-Matoran, still blinking from the glow of the bright desert sand, were holding their staffs firmly, carefully examining their surroundings and the Po-Matoran, who in turn, eyed the newcomers with barely disguised contempt. Two members of the Ussalry helped Turaga Whenua get down from his Ussal. Whenua stepped out of the shade and looked around, as if he was searching for someone to welcome him and his congregation to the village. Turaga Onewa smiled and stepped forward. “Brother! Welcome to Po-Koro!” Whenua looked and when he saw Onewa approach, he smiled as well and held out his fist. The two Turaga greeted each other like in the time before time. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” continued Onewa. “I hope your journey was uneventful. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t feel it was urgent.” “Thank you, brother, for your kind welcome,” replied Whenua. “While I don’t like to leave my familiar underground caverns, I feel in this case, I had no other choice but to come here.” Onewa nodded grimly. Together, they took a walk. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” joked Whenua, referring to the newly built village. Onewa chuckled. “It isn’t exactly Po-Metru,” he said, “but it’s as close as we will ever get.” “You should come and see what we’ve done with Onu-Koro,” said Whenua. “I believe you’ll like the ambient.” “I’m sure I will,” replied Onewa, “but let us leave that for another time. Come to my hut, we have important matters to attend to.” *** Onewa explained what had happened. A miner from a visiting group of Onu-Matoran had made some less than savoury comments about Po-Koro sculptures. The Po-Matoran, naturally offended by such a statement, returned the favour by questioning the quality of Onu-Koro stone. What followed was a heated exchange of words and Matoran tools. The elder of Po-Koro barely stopped the fight from getting any worse. “Where are the miners now?” asked Whenua. “They are keeping to themselves in their hut,” answered Onewa. “They barely go outside and when they do, I can feel the resentment in the air.” “I’m sorry about their behaviour, brother.” “You need not apologise, my friend. The blame lies in the pride of both our people. What we need to do is find a way to reconcile the differences between them.” “What did you have in mind?” “Remember the game we used to play back on Metru Nui?” “Akilini?” “Yes. Our people both want to prove they are the best at what they do. We need to give them something to channel their competitiveness.” Whenua pondered. “But where are you going to get all those disks?” Onewa smiled. “We don’t need disks. We already have rocks.” *** The Matoran gathered at the back of the village. Barries of stone were placed around a field, creating what Turaga Onewa called a “stadium”. In each corner were two pillars covered at the top by another. Onewa called them “goals”. Around the field, makeshift stands were constructed for the Matoran. The people from both villages were now seated, far from each other, conversing loudly and occasionally throwing an insult to the other camp. On the floor of the stadium lay crudely crafted stone balls. Turaga Whenua and Turaga Onewa entered the field. “I hope this works,” murmured Onewa. “I have a feeling it will,” calmed Whenua. “Now, won’t the ‘referee’ ordain the match?” Onewa bumbed fists with Whenua and stepped towards the middle of the stadium. “Attention, dear Matoran!” he called. The crowds fell silent at once. “As you are no doubt aware, there has been some discord between the people of Po-Koro and Onu-Koro. Turaga Whenua and I do not believe in violence as a means of solving conflict. We have henceforth decided that the people of our villages will settle our differences another way.” He pointed towards the stone balls on the floor. “We propose to you a game to determine who is in the right. Players from both villages will compete in kicking these balls into the opponents’ goals.” The crowds gasped with intrigue and excitement. “We will play until one of the two teams scores 21 goals. The one to do so will win the match. Are we understood?” Cheers from the stands made it clear that the Matoran understood. “Very well. May the game begin!” *** The game lasted the entire afternoon. At first, the Matoran struggled to master this new sport and played rough, necessitating a few interventions by the Turaga. But after some time, they played as if they knew how to play from the very beginning. At first, the Po-Matoran seemed to have the upper hand against the slow and sun-blinded Onu-Matoran. As twilight began to shine on the field, however, the earth-dwellers started to catch up. Every goal was met with excited shouts from the stands. The spirit of competition grew and while it did get loud, no tools were ever thrown. It was now getting dark and the teams were tied at 20 goals. “Maybe we shouldn’t have copied that rule about 21 goals,” whispered Whenua to his Po-Koro equivalent. “Next time we play, we should change it to something else. Maybe a predetermined number of goals. What do you say, brother?” Much to the Onu-Turaga’s annoyance, Onewa wasn’t listening. He was too focused on the game. The crowd was silently anticipating the final, tiebreaking goal. All eyes were on a Kakama wielding Po-Matoran, who had showed incredible skill in this new sport. “That’s Huki,” said Onewa to Whenua with barely contained excitement. “He is the captain of the Po-Koro Guard and my right-hand Matoran.” The fateful moment had begun as Onepu, a member of the Ussalry who had joined the game, sent a ball flying into Huki’s goal. Thinking quickly, the Po-Matoran took a step back and when the ball came close, he struck it with his head, sending it into the goal guarded by a miner named Taipu. The Onu-Matoran goalkeeper had no time to react. The ball flew past him and straight into the goal. Elated Po-Matoran stood up and celebrated Po-Koro’s victory. Onewa found that he too was standing and cheering. “Calm down, brother!” laughed Whenua. “You still have to play referee.” Onewa immediately sat back down, ready to quell any argument that would erupt as a result of the outcome. He scanned the stands and stadium. To his surprise, he found Onu-Matoran congratulating the Po-Matoran equals, shaking hands and patting each other on the back. It seemed that thanks to the game, the spirit of camaraderie trumped the spectre of resentment. Realising this, he shook hands with the Onu-Turaga. “Wonderful game, brother!” said Whenua. “Your players have shown incredible skill.” “Your players were not far behind!” replied Onewa. “But thank you.” They both watched as the crowd lifted Huki and carried him across the stands. “There’s still one thing left to discuss, though,” remarked Whenua, suddenly. Onewa looked at him with confusion. “What’s that?” “How shall we call this new game?” Onewa pondered. It can’t be Akilini, he said to himself. Then he came up with a number of sophisticated names, none of which he felt suited this simple sport. At last, he found it and shared it with Whenua.
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So there's been a bunch of rumors recently about bionicle coming back in 2025-2026, none of it is confirmed but i've seen it trending in the lego community so we can only hope it's true, made this thread so that everyone can discuss thoughts and their own rumors.
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Morphol Built for the Creeps from the Concept collab, a collab in which we built mocs based on Barraki's original concept art: In this case, I chose the one with the orange visor and long arms. I decided to reinterpret the long arms with a pair of tentacles and create a sort of diving suit for this creature. I used both Vidiyo and Dots rubber pieces for this moc, the head is also made of rubber parts: 3 white Kraata. 08/10/23
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Floral Fury Built for the "Plants vs. Horror" collab hosted by Bionilug. I know, it's not so much horror, let's say the real horror comes from the point of view of the Matoran in this specific situation. 13/11/2023
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BT: Orphan More on Instagram My take on a BT from Death Stranding
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Edit (2nd of May, 2024): Made some minor revisions, mostly involving some unclear and anachronistic dialogue. One thing that really bothered me about the 2004-05 story arc, is how it doesn't provide any satisfying conclusion to Onewa's character arc. How did the irate Toa of Stone, who it seemed kept looking for fights, become someone called "the referee"? The question bothered me enough to try and fill the gap with a story. The Toa Metru have landed back on the island of Mata Nui. Vakama is off retrieving the Vahi and Onewa is tasked with leading the team while the Ta-Toa is away. As he helps his brothers and sister unload, he finds himself looking inwards and thinking about his relationship with the Toa of fire. Enjoy! THE REFEREE A fleet of six airships hovered over a tropical island, filling the air with a mechanical buzz. Soon thereafter, the noise was replaced by the faint, rhythmic sound of Increase Weight Kanoka striking the insides of each metal behemoth. One by one, the ships began to descend. With a gentle crash, they landed, covering about a kio of land. Then the doors of the leading airship opened with a hiss. Toa Onewa stepped outside and studied his surroundings. Not far from the landing site was a vast sandy coastline. Judging by its size, there was enough room for all the Matoran spheres they were carrying. He turned to his brothers and sister. “Unload them here on the beach,” he ordered. “I want everyone to take one airship each. When you’re done, go and help the others.” The four Toa stood in place. “Come on,” he added, a little impatient. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be finished.” Finally, his fellow Toa moved out silently. Onewa watched them go and in that moment, he felt something he’d never admit to anyone: he missed Vakama. The Toa of Fire had gone to retrieve the Mask of Time, but not before instructing Onewa to take charge of the rescue operation. “Take them to the island,” Vakama said to him, “and make sure they’re safe. If I don’t come back, you know what you must do to wake them. I’m counting on you.” Those words still rang in Onewa’s mind. After all this time, after all their disagreements and displays of ill will, Vakama trusted him enough to leave the fate of the Matoran, and of the team, in his hands. It was enough to make Onewa think. “No wonder we kept you as leader,” the Toa of Stone murmured. “You’re enough of a sage to be a Ko-Matoran.” Now he found himself wishing Vakama was here. It was clear the other Toa felt uneasy about Onewa being in charge and that they followed him reluctantly. The Po-Toa sighed. “How did you do it?” he thought, sadly. His question left unanswered, he started to unload. *** The unloading process was slow but steady. Whenua had already emptied the first airship and was now helping Nuju and Matau unload the second. Onewa watched them work together. “With more hands to help with each following airship, we are sure to be done by nightfall,” he thought, content. “Good job, brothers.” Nokama, however, was nowhere to be seen. Onewa looked across the coast. He found her not far away, sitting near the water’s edge. He headed towards her. “Sister!” Nokama looked at him, startled. “Why aren’t you helping us unload?” “I’m keeping watch,” the Toa of Water replied. “You never know when a Rahi might strike.” “You can keep watch while you work,” snapped Onewa. “And besides, the Matoran are safe and asleep in their spheres. They’ll be all right. Now come, let’s empty these ships before Vakama arrives.” Onewa had already turned to walk back. Then he noticed that Nokama wasn’t following him. The Ga-Toa was still sitting by the water, clutching her knees tightly to her chest. Onewa approached her calmly. “Sister?” “What if something’s happened to him?” said Nokama, her voice heavy with worry. Onewa gulped. He knew exactly who she was talking about. “What if he got attacked? What if he drowned before he found the mask? We don’t know!” She dug her mask into her hands. “Oh, we never should’ve left him go alone.” Onewa didn’t know what to say. His frustration at Nokama had evaporated like spilled Liquid Protodermis in a forge. He sat down beside her and gently put a hand on her shoulder. “You and I both know what Vakama is like. Stubborn. Hot-headed. A little foolish, maybe. But he’s also strong and determined. I don’t know what’s taking him so long, but I’m sure he will return sooner or later.” Nokama smiled weakly. “You know what, sister, you’re right,” Onewa added, standing up, “we could use someone on watch. Keep a good look-out.” “I will. Thank you, brother.” Onewa returned a smile as weak and fragile as Nokama’s. He couldn’t shake the thought that something really had happened to Vakama. The memories of all the times the two Toa came to blows hit him like a wave. “Why?” pondered Onewa. “Why did I have to be so hard on him? He was a good leader. Good enough.” He extended his gaze towards the vast horizon. “I’m sorry, brother,” he thought. “Please make it back in one piece.” *** Dawn broke above the island, illuminating the airships parked near the coast. One day had already passed and yet the Toa still weren’t done. They had only emptied three of the six ships. But Onewa didn’t mind. “If Vakama can take his time,” he thought, “then so can we. What’s the rush?” He was standing by the loading dock of the fourth airship. He was about to start rolling the next sphere when a deep voice interrupted him. “Brother!” “Whenua! What’s wrong?” “Nuju and Matau have gotten into a fight. I tried to calm them down, but they won’t let up.” Onewa followed the Toa of Earth as he ran back to the beach. There, they found the other two Toa. Nuju was whistling madly at Matau, who in turn, was shouting: “I don’t know what you’re speak-saying! Can you stop whistling like a broken Moto-Sled and act like a Toa?!” Onewa watched them fight. “They’re acting like wild Akilini players,” he thought. “Maybe they could use a referee.” He stepped forwards, inhaling deeply. “HEY!” Matau and Nuju froze. Onewa came closer. “What is going on here?” “I know-nothing!” said Matau, quick to defend himself. “I accidentally knock him over and he starts spitting at me like a mad bird!” Nuju responded with a series of clicks and whistles. Onewa waited for him to stop. “Nuju, can you tell me what Matau did to you?” The Toa of Ice let out another barrage of chirps and scratches. Onewa held back a curse. Nuju’s refusal to talk Matoran was starting to get on his nerves. But he remained calm. He noticed the Toa of Ice was point at his own head. “Is there something wrong with your mask?” asked Onewa. Nuju whistled excitedly. Then he held his scope and pointed at Matau. Onewa put two and two together. “You think Matau broke your scope? Is that it?” Nuju let out a high-pitched whistle. Matau scoffed. “I gave you one small shove, scholar, and you fell,” he said. “How would that break-” “Quiet!” Matau did as Onewa said. “Nuju, try to use your scope.” The Ko-Toa tried to zoom in. Onewa watched closely as the mechanism seemed to jam. “I see,” he said. “Listen, Nuju, I know nothing about scopes. I don’t know if it’s broken or if it’s just stuck. I’ll ask Vakama to check it for you when he gets back. And as for you, Matau,” he continued, turning to the Toa of Air, “I’d try to be more careful. You could’ve hurt Nuju, you know that? Also, I want you to remember we’re handling Matoran, here. We need to take care”. Onewa exhaled. “Now, how about we go back to work?” *** The rays of the evening sun reflected off the silver spheres scattered across the golden beach. Onewa, Whenua, Matau and Nuju sat with their backs against the cliffside. They were exhausted, but they were also relieved. They had finally managed to unload all the Matoran. “Good-nice sight,” said Matau. “Now, what do we do?” “We wait for Vakama,” answered Onewa. “He will tell us what to do next.” “But he still hasn’t returned,” added Whenua, grimly. “I fear he might not come back at all.” Nuju clicked solemnly. Onewa was barely paying attention. He was thinking about Vakama’s instructions. “Can I do it?” he thought. “Can I really ask myself and my brothers to give up their power? I don’t think I’m strong enough to do that.” Once he finished that thought, another one followed: “I really wish you were here, fire-spitter. You’d know what to say.” Just then, Nokama ran up. “He’s here!” she exclaimed. “Vakama has returned!” The Toa looked at each other as if to ask if they heard that correctly. Then the realisation hit and they ran with Nokama to the other side of the beach. There, they found a red figure walking lethargically towards them. Onewa was the first to greet him. “Brother!” he cried. “It’s so good to see you aga-” He gasped. Vakama looked like he had been through a biostorm. His armour was scraped and melted and it appeared that he was limping slightly. But his gaze was exactly like that of a Toa of Fire – determined and unyielding. Vakama’s eyes met Onewa’s. “It’s good to see you too, brother,” he said to the Toa of Stone and turned to the rest. “It’s good to see all of you.” Then he eyed the beach, covered with metal spheres. He smiled warmly. “Did everything go smoothly?” “Like a test flight on a good day!” answered Matau. The response earned him an angry stare from Nuju. Vakama didn’t notice. “I believe you have laboured long and hard,” he started. “And I have some very important things to tell you.” “What important things?” asked Nokama. Onewa held out a hand to stop her. “Never mind that,” he said and turned back to Vakama. “Did you retrieve the Mask of Time?” Vakama pulled the mask from behind his back. The Vahi had seen better days – it had changed from gleaming gold to rusted orange. A faint trace of a small crack ran along its side. But it was here. The Toa awed at the sight. “You know,” said Onewa, “have I ever told you what a good maskmaker you are, Vakama?” Vakama’s smile widened. “You have now.” Onewa smiled back. “This here is a work of art. Although,” he added, “it could use some more touches. You ought to give it to me so I can add some decorations.” The group erupted with laughter. “There will be plenty time to do that …” replied Vakama, “… in the morning. I believe we all need a rest.” The other Toa murmured in agreement. Resolutions can wait until the next day. It had been a long and arduous journey, but now the Toa were united once more. Their tale was coming to an end. Tomorrow, a new one would begin.
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Search for diamonds Burn it all Until they gleam in the fire More on Instagram
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This track came out of my newly ignited love for Bionicle as a whole thanks to Essenger & Cryoshell's collab. I let my inspiration go wild, I hope you will like it as well. Audio in WAV. Bionicles.wav
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