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BZPRPG - Kentoku Archipelago


Nuju Metru

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IC:

 

Color drained from Soraph's face with every word that Koga spoke into her mind, her eyes widening in response to fear mixed with surprise. She had never told anyone of her aspirations, of her dreams to reclaim her rightful seat upon the throne in Castle Vilda. She had kept those thoughts buried deep with the recesses of her mind, beyond depths even the most cunning of Fursics could plumb. No Willhammer, not even the Daikura First Son, could have discovered her ambitions through the Menti discipline without her knowledge, and especially without a struggle.

 

But somehow, Koga knew everything. He spoke of her desires as if they were common knowledge, facts known to the entire Empire. The First Son had said he'd been well educated - it was more than likely he would have had at least a cursory knowledge of various clans' histories, possibly even Vilda's. But the rest, the understanding he had of her longings..had he really been able to discern so much from their short time together?

 

As his face drew near to her's, Soraph's heart pounded like waves crashing upon the beach, the reverberations felt throughout her whole being. Her lips quivered as Koga spoke aloud for the first time, his fiery eyes searching for an answer in Soraph's.

 

:I do intend to take back my clan's throne. That seat should have been mine, is, mine, stolen by a twist of fate: Soraph said suddenly with steely resolve. :Thirst for power runs through the veins of all Dasaka, a holy urge bequeathed to us by the Great Spirit Zuto-Nui herself. Perhaps in runs deeper in mine, I do not deny it; Vilda are known to have a yearning for great and wild things.

 

:But do not think I intend to use you as a footstool! My aunt used a man to treacherously take what is not hers. I could not, will not, do the same. Ultimately, when I reclaim all that rightfully belongs to me, it shall be through my own power, not the power of politics. My intentions for you are... they are different, apart from my family's dynamics. You are intriguing, quite unlike lesser men that have cooed over me.

 

Soraph's head moved closer, Koga's face filling her field of vision. Her eyes now burned as brightly as his, both flaring with unchecked emotion.

 

:Am I arrogant? Maybe. I certainly have high hopes, but I also have the resolve to see them to fruition.

 

:Am I worthy? I already know the answer, so you must decide for yourself.

 

A grand plant burst into existence on the mental plane, luscious green leaves sprouting from a tangle of long, firm vines. The tendrils twisted and turned, a convoluted web of foliage, bright blue flowers budding randomly throughout. It was oblivious to the oppressive heat, floating towards the source, an intense flame that bore the likeness of a Dasaka. A single vine extended, slowly coiling itself around the hand of the man-fire. It stopped, tense and waiting. The seemed ready to move up and entangle the figure of fire completely, wrapping it in a cocoon of vines and flowers.

 

"Shall we fly?" Soraph asked, her mouth so close to Koga's now that their lips brushed for the briefest moment as she spoke.

Quiz by TheQuizzery.com

 

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You are strong and kinda smart, but not too much

Which Barraki are you?

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IC: Hogo Akone

The Psychophysical energies clashed and sparks of energy blasted from the point if contact.

 

Akone saw Aki leap over her, sword slashing in a wide arc. She ducked and turned to face where Aki would land. She unsummoned her blade and lashed out with blunt Soulsword energy. The psychophysical energy was like a huge ball of metal barrelling to Aki's position.

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IC: Daikura Koga

 

A long, heated pause, and then;

 

"Yes."

 

The fires disappeared, the burning resilience and commanding presence shifted, accepting the vines and welcoming them into the ember. Soraph could feel her consciousness pulled taught as if long wire until her head nearly split and she could hardly breath, and then with a magnificent sense of relief the plane shifted. The vines formed a woman, and her calves felt the gentle lapping of the warm, aquamarine water stretching endlessly in all directions. White sand squeezed up through toes. It was barren, but beautiful; an empty slate.

 

Koga emerged from the water, a liquid body shimmering into coherence. He stood on the water, the ripples of motion circling ever outward from the soles of his feet as the man stepped closer. Unlike the figure on the veranda, he wore no armor, no kanohi. It was Koga without the trappings of the world.

 

:Welcome Soraph,: even his voice seemed sweeter, :to my mind. Forgive me for pulling out the welcome mat, but there are things I would keep secret from all until I cease to breathe, and some even longer.: As he spoke he extended a hand toward the vine-woman and his legs sank below the waters until both beings were equals in height.

 

:Now, how do I reach into Hane's mind and see through her eyes?:

 

To the world Soraph and Koga were statues in sweet embrace.

Edited by Kughii
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IC/ Akimatai | Akone had made use of the simple ability that every Soulsword could use: blunt energy. Aki got hit, hard. She landed on her rump, but, putting her choice weapon away, she put one hand on the ground and scissor-kicked her foe in the face.

Edited by The Dapper Man

Morally unambiguous.

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Ic: They say it's easy being a princess. They think things are just fine and dandy for a princess. They think being at the top of the ladder makes things good and cool... And for the most part they're spot on. Things are lonely at the top and everyone can be a clever spy or some sleazy noble vying for a piece of me -- or just, you know, a piece of the empire -- but aside from the looming danger that any smile can be taken beyond face value I guess things are fine. Just fine.

 

I'm Yumiwa, chōjo and crown princess of the Dasaka Empire, and one day I will be rora, as my mother is now and my grandmother was before her and her mother before that. I am well-versed in history and lore, arts and sciences, am a litterateur at heart and a Mindhammer by choice, and right now I am reading and very late for bed.

 

::Go to sleep, sweet daughter:: my mother tells me in my head. Her voice has always been a comforting thing for me and as much a presence to me as her kindly face. I struggle to think of something to say that could conceivably change her mind even for just a moment but it's no use. ::Yumi, put the book aside and go to sleep::

 

She knows me all too well, you know, like a mother should know her firstborn daughter. ::Yeeeesss, motherrr!:: I hastily mindmutter in return as I fold the book and slide it onto the shelf. Who am I to resist my mother at this point? But as I follow my marching orders and obey the Serene Imperial Majesty of the Dasaka herself I have to wonder what my sister is feeling. Here I am, free to roam and do as I please -- well, mostly, anyway; stupid parental rules; the darkness doesn't bother me! -- and my little sister is stuck in her hall to listen in to everyone's conversation, probably wishing she could have been born a little later so she could be normal like me and mom and pretty much everyone else alive.

 

Stupid girl.

 

Oh wait, she's my sister, I should be nice.

 

But I am nice! I can have my own thoughts though, right?

 

Right. I'm nice enough. Hahahahaha see? Nice, good, loving Yumiwa. :)

 

It takes me no effort to mentally peel the sheets off my bed and then cover myself after I lie down on my soft, cushy mattress and smother my body in the warm Valkyr down comforters, then snuff out the lights all at once. Yeah, things are a'ight being a princess, especially a crown princess, and as I hear my mother hum to me my favourite tune to help me to sleep from the other end of the royal apartments all I can think of is the wonderful time I'll be having tomorrow at my riding and Willhammer lessons.

 

So, for now, goodnight!

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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IC:

 

::Night, Yumi. Good night, mother.::

 

Desdemona smiled bashfully from her own quarters and tossed her spheres up in the air again, juggling them with a practiced aptitude for several minutes. One in particular - the one she had dropped earlier - caught her attention fleetingly, then again the next time it was in the air. A speck of an idea punctured her unconscious rhythm; she caught the two compatriots and rolled them off her open palm onto the bed. The third sphere, the one still in the air, was plummeting, ready to hit the floor with a sharp crack; in a brief fit of madness Desdemona put her idea into motion and tried to catch it - with her mind.

 

It hovered in front of her as though the air was made of molasses, and when Desde, eyes wide, tried to make it move it spun in lazy rings around her head like a planet in orbit. She giggled excitedly.

 

The moment was gone; her consciousness broke, and the ball thudded onto the bed with a soft poosh next to the other spheres. The princess beheld them with wide eyes, and went to pick them up and try again.

 

Neither her mother nor her big sister replied to her, or wished her good night. That's okay. They were probably just sleeping.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC/ Akimatai | Akone had made use of the simple ability that every Soulsword could use: blunt energy. Aki got hit, hard. She landed on her rump, but, putting her choice weapon away, she put one hand on the ground and scissor-kicked her foe in the face.

IC: Hogo Akone

Akone allowed a small smile as she watched the energy knock Aki over. Then she was up and landed a scissor-kick on Akone.

Oh no, I got compla-

Akone landed several feet back. She rolled and grabbed onto her Naginata that was impaled in the ground and brought it up into guard position.

Edited by Norik Of Gielinor
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IC:

 

"That's okay. I pretty much know everyone here," she replied, continuing down the street.

 

OOC: We might have to put this situation on hold until I can find some Eiyu characters. :P

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IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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IC: Hogo Akone

Oh dear. I seem to be in a bit of a catch here... Akone thought as the Soulsword swung towards Akone's weapon's shaft.

 

The Hogo mentally triggered her Kanohi Hau and a purple translucent forcefield sprung into existence around her, checking Aki's blow just in time.

 

Akone shut off the field and charged forward, swinging her glaive at Aki who was stopped short dead ahead by the sudden appearance and disappearance of Akone's Hau shield.

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IC | Akimatai dodged, stepped back, and assumed a defensive posture. Akone wore a Hau. That would be problematic. Aki would have to use an attack that her foe wouldn't possibly see coming. She used her kanohi again. Appearing to Akone's left in a crouched position, she swung at her legs.

Morally unambiguous.

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IC: Hogo Noshima

 

"I wish to leave the palace," said Noshima quietly, interrupting the silence that had fallen over the two since the end of their game. "It would make me greatly thankful if you were to accompany me."

 

A tiniest hint of a smile appeared on the Toroshu's face as she awaited her best friend's reply, a rather rare expression for her. Much time had passed since the last time they had relaxed together, away from the politics of the Imperial Court.

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IC | Akimatai dodged, stepped back, and assumed a defensive posture. Akone wore a Hau. That would be problematic. Aki would have to use an attack that her foe wouldn't possibly see coming. She used her kanohi again. Appearing to Akone's left in a crouched position, she swung at her legs.

IC: Hogo Akone

Not again, Akone thought when she felt the sword hit her legs.

 

She let her legs sweep out from under her and as her upper body fell over Aki, she managed to grab at Aki's back armour. She used her falling momentum to pull Aki backwards. Both fell, Akone on her side, Aki on her back, and Akone pushed her self off the ground. She Materialised her Blade and put it against Aki's neck from behind. Akone was panting hard.

 

"Well-pant-fought, Warrrior," she managed to pant.

Edited by Norik Of Gielinor
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IC | What. Just. Happened. That was the first thing that came to Aki's mind. Turns out she had been bested in combat. Not good. She would have to train long and hard, because if that duel was to-the-death, she would have been beheaded. Aki got to her feet, put away her sword and began to remove her claws.

 

"Likewise, friend, likewise." Aki replied.

 

Akone knew good sportsmanship, apparently. Aki did, too, but was rather disappointed in herself for losing the match. Once her weapons were off, she offered to shake her opponent's hand.

Edited by The Dapper Man

Morally unambiguous.

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IC: Eshai

 

Sanei's reaction made it very clear that there was something quite wrong. Sanei's reaction had been one of sheer rage earlier, but why would that cause her so much anger? It was intended to instill doubt and excess caution, but the outburst of fury was quite different than expected. Something inside her made her furious, angry that she could possibly lose to Eshai. But what exactly was it?

 

Then her master changed to actually speaking, her mind seemed rather distant. Then just as suddenly, she returned to speaking with her mind. It had been enough to stop whatever she was going to say, but not enough to cover the fact that something was most certainly eating away at her. Sanei was always working so hard towards everything she did, putting in too much effort, maybe this had the same cause.

 

She wondered for a moment if she should ask, but it really was not her place to question her employer. She decided to be careful, but take the question to Sanei all the same. She would just bring it around slowly.

 

"You always put so much effort into everything. Why is that?"

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IC:

You can trust me.

 

I’ll tell the tale as well as I know how. I was raised to be honest, and I’ll do what I can to remove myself from this story. It’s not my story, after all; it’d be dishonorable for me to color your view of him with my opinions.

 

Don’t ask me about myself. You won’t get any answers. I don’t think they’re important, and the less you know about me, the better. This isn’t my story, and I don’t want to make it mine. It’s his, and that’s how it should stay.

 

Like all of us, he was born. He was First Son from the instant he entered the world, and under the heavy judgments of his mother, he was raised and trained to play his piece. He was taught his position on the Archipelago, and was told that he must never stoop below it. He selected and studied his powers until he became adept with them. He grew taller and older, maybe wiser, with the passage of time.

 

The finest place to begin Kuno’s tale, though, is not his earliest beginning. The evening when the assassin was caught – and Kuno’s first scheme thus foiled – is a better one.

 

The young night was warm and pleasant, not at odds with Kuno’s slumped shoulders and slack brow. He was perched, softly motionless, atop his backless chair – an aristocratic snare designed to lay bare posture (or lack thereof) and subsequently enable assembled company to judge the sitter; this was a test Kuno never failed, at least when he was in his body – facing his tower suite’s unbroken crystal window. The window afforded a clear view of the Towers of Knowledge and the ocean, dull in the growing darkness; had his eyes been open, Kuno could have seen the orange line of dusk fade on the horizon. He looked to be asleep in his seat. I stood beside him, glancing around the room, as was my wont during times like this.

 

Kuno’s apartment on Sado was expansive and handsome; all ornate bamboo furniture, cleverly wrought lightstone lanterns, and little indoors fountains, it was the quintessence of status. The drapes and carpets were ruby red, emblematic of the Fursics, and the clan’s insignia was etched over and over again into the chiseled patterns of the wall. Such an apartment was due, by political courtesy, to the First Son of a powerful family whenever he was in the Imperial Palace, and Kuno resided in his haunt on Sado more often than most. He preferred to be at once closer to the action of the Rora’s court and farther from his mother, Toroshu Nera, who managed clan dealings on Kozu.

 

Ironically, his distant position on Sado made Kuno a better tool for Nera; she used him as her arm in the Imperial Palace, a duty that he at once resented and strove to fulfill with excellence. His adherence to the virtue of Power, his pride, and his outrage regarding events that took place before his birth compelled him too mightily to do anything but endeavor to excel. To resist Nera in more than just the clandestine stronghold of his heart was never an option for Kuno.

 

The assassination had been Nera’s idea and, loathe as Kuno had been do to anything his mother’s way, he had not seen a better alternative, so had been forced to take the path she’d suggested. But the attempt, for all its careful consideration, failed; the assassin’s target, an isolationist Hogo courtier who held the Rora’s ear, was not touched by so much as a gust of wind, let alone the intended crystal dagger. Too quickly, the assassin was found and captured by the Palace Guard. Kuno, a floating spirit, watched it happen, and to his great frustration could do nothing.

 

Kuno’s Kanohi Iden let him leave his body at will, an ability that he prized as highly as his Menti disciplines. He could watch and listen, insensible by others, to anything and anyone; as long as his presence, his “feel” on the mental plane, was not being searched for, he was undetectable when thus detached, especially among crowds. For obvious reasons, Kuno employed his Iden only when I was at hand to guard his body. He had deigned earlier in the evening to observe the assassin’s progress this way; when she was discovered, taken forcefully by the guards and escorted to a cell underground, his spirit flitted back to his physical half. As soon as he’d returned to himself, Kuno’s posture improved dramatically, and his shoulders clenched in aggravation.

 

But there was no time for fury, not now, and he knew it. Mastering himself, Kuno stood at once from the backless chair, and headed for the door with meaningful strides. I followed, grabbing something on my way. He was about to depart when I called to him from the threshold of the room, and held it up.

 

“Your cloak,” I said, shaking it a little.

 

He stopped at once, realizing my intention. A First Son was never seen in public without sporting some of his regalia; in his haste, Kuno had almost left his apartment naked of stature, and such a thing could not be done, especially considering his objective tonight. If he left home in his present state, he would draw suspicious glances, glances that might be recalled… Extra attention was the last thing Kuno wanted on this outing.

 

Kuno nodded curtly. I approached, threw the red mantle over him. As I fixed its clasps near his neck, the steely tension he held in his shoulders was like rock under my hands. I sometimes had to stand on my toes to get the right angle on the brooches; he was tall even for a male. But dressing him was something I’d done countless times, and my steady fingers knew the motions. In seconds, the cloak was secure, and he left with me at his heels.

 

Though much of the city stilled with the coming of darkness, the gardens did not. This was Kuno’s destination, and nobody stopped or questioned him on his way there. As Fursic First Son, it was within his rights to visit the gardens whenever he wanted. Very little was not within his rights. By night, the stunning floral vistas of the Gardens were nearly as enthralling as they were by day; near the edge, the ambient light from the rest of the Palace pervaded into the trees and bushes, but in at the center of the Gardens, the only light was from the moon and stars; dappled, it fell through the branches and glowed within the crystal walkway. It was beautiful, but Kuno had no time for beauty.

 

The assassin had been imprisoned in one of the Rora’s cells, which were dug out underground below the healing centers; the healing centers, in their turn, were below the bottom level of the Gardens, where Kuno now stood. It was as close as he’d be able to get to the assassin without arousing suspicion.

 

In the morning, the assassin would doubtless meet Rayuke’s steel; before then, though, Willhammers would question her. Although she had been hired by a maverick Taajar – and so did not know Kuno, the Taajar’s master – and although she had sworn upon the name of Zuto Nui to keep that employer’s identity secret, Kuno could risk nothing. He had to beat the other Willhammers to her. They may have already been inside. He had no time to waste; he gave me a look, sat down on the banister of the crystal walkway, and leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on the crystal walkway. I sat beside him and prepared to pretend to speak to him, in case anyone passed us. Vigilance was my duty while he did his.

 

Kuno’s body became still as he extended himself on the mental plane, and probed about for the assassin’s mind. He located her feel quickly among the other prisoners, and found to his grim satisfaction that she was still alone, and more importantly, that she was within his reach. He sprang upon her.

 

The assassin probably heard, in her imagination, a ponderous dripping noise first. This would have intensified to the relaxed chuckle of pouring water, then the glad laughter of a fountain, then the powerful roar of a waterfall; spellbound and overpowered within the space of a moment – she was no Willhammer, and Kuno knew it – her mind was overtaken by gushing water that flooded the niches of her consciousness. The water level rose; Kuno pushed deeper and deeper, his psychic fingers reaching for her inner mind and the spark of life.

 

Meanwhile, I noticed movement on the other side of a grove of softly bioluminescent ferns. A Datsue, accompanied by two Dashi shadows, was strolling aimlessly along the moonlit path. Her head swung idly side-to-side, taking in the nighttime plants; on one such rotation, her gaze happened upon Kuno and me, reposing under mottled shade. Unfortunately, this Datsue was polite, and she deigned to approach Kuno, doubtless to exchange the same meaningless pleasantries that they would have given one another in court. But Kuno’s mind was elsewhere, and he would be unable to play with her; in his silence, he would condemn himself. I readied an unseen finger to give him a sharp poke that would return his focus to the physical plane. I would hold off as long as I could.

 

Through the assassin’s eyes, Kuno saw two Dasaka unlock the cell door and enter the room. He had to hurry. The assassin knew only the rumble of the sea, and was pacified by it; Kuno, vigorous and hurried on the seafloor, urged his currents onward. He broke the dam of the inner mind, surged in. He spared a second glance at the Rora’s Willhammers, who looked at the slack-faced assassin wearily. Their mouths moved, no doubt trying to question the assassin verbally before resorting to mental entry. He had seconds.

 

“Good evening, Kuno,” the Datsue said as she drew near along the path, smiling benignly even in the face of his closed-off pose. “I see we have had the same idea; how enchanting the Gardens are by night!” Choosing to ignore his continued fixation on the ground, she directed her attention to me. “Ah, dear, please remind me of your name.”

 

“Ikori, madam,” I replied. I couldn’t poke him when the Datsue was looking at me so closely, or else she’d see.

 

“Ikori,” she nodded. “Yes. Kuno, do tell me, how is your mother?”

 

Kuno, in a final exertion, drowned the assassin’s consciousness and immediately retreated, leaving no vestigial traces of his presence. The Rora’s Willhammers, when they tried to enter their prisoner’s mind, found it to be a void. One of them felt for the assassin’s pulse; there was no heartbeat. Kuno’s liability was dead.

 

At once, Kuno was back on the physical plane, and his body was alive again. He returned just in time to hear the word “mother” spoken questioningly in a voice that was not mine. He recovered seamlessly. As casually as he could, the Fursic First Son sat up and looked at the Datsue, taking stock of her and recognizing her without letting her know that he had only just done so.

 

“She is well, Datsue Tsura,” he answered politely.

 

“Energetic as ever, I’m sure.” Tsura grinned knowingly. “Nera and I trained at the yards together, you see, and I do enjoy keeping track of her… our journeys have been slightly different, of course, but there was a day when we shared everything with one another.”

 

“It is difficult to imagine my mother sharing anything with anyone,” Kuno said evenly. Tsura wouldn’t have been able to detect the tiniest malice in his tone.

 

“She is a Toroshu,” Tsura agreed, “And their sort are notoriously secretive, even if they’re not Fursics!” She seemed not to care that her jab had also prodded her conversation companion; Kuno brushed it off with grace.

 

“Tsura,” Kuno asked, a sudden recollection about Tsura making him genuinely interested in the conversation. “What was the island of Mata Nui like?”

 

“It was intriguing,” Tsura replied, delighting in her rapt audience. “Quite different, but eerily familiar at once… They speak in our language, they divide themselves into clans, they wear Kanohi, and they pay respect to a Great Spirit. But how dissimilar they are! The people of Mata Nui have powers we cannot comprehend; some of them can summon fire to their fists, others can move the earth to suit their wishes. Metal is in abundance, there… they use it for things as menial as toys!”

 

“Toys?” Kuno asked. This sort of tidbit about Mata Nui was baffling to him, as it was to us all.

 

“Yes!” Tsura exclaimed delightedly, her old eyes crinkling. “The very first creature that we happened upon was a Skakdi. He was sitting on the beach with a little toy, made of metal, which flipped up and down in his hand. It was so clever; I do regret now that Saru chopped it in two. Though, of course, Nihi would have had the Skakdi’s head meet a similar fate, if she’d had her way.”

 

“Nihi?” Kuno asked.

 

“She was one of the Dasaka chosen for the first expedition,” Tsura explained. “She was selected for her passion, you see; she wanted nothing more than to see the Piraka dead, after what they did to her sister… But this, in turn, prejudiced her against all Skakdi.”

 

Something in Kuno’s manner subtly shifted. “Are there many Skakdi on Mata Nui?” he inquired of the Datsue, sitting forward a little. Even such a subtle change, to the trained eye, proclaimed Kuno’s fiercely renewed interest.

 

“Yes, I believe so,” Tsura said. “Nihi was sure to ask about that when we visited one of the Mata Nuian Toroshu – or, Toroshu equivalents, they call them ‘Akiri’ – named Hahli. She was, if you’d believe it, a Dashi – or, Dashi equivalent, they call them ‘Matoran’ over there – and she told us that yes, many Skakdi had made Mata Nui their home, though they were not native to the island. When we mentioned the name of that Skakdi we’d encountered on the beach, Grokk, Hahli seemed to know him. She told us that he’d done hateful, hateful crimes… so maybe Nihi is right about the Skakdi race. Perhaps they are all as evil as the Piraka.”

 

“Perhaps,” Kuno echoed before standing. I stood too, and Kuno bowed to Tsura. “Datsue, it was a pleasure as always to encounter you; I look forward to our next conversation. Your wisdom and wit are without rival.”

 

“Don’t make me blush, Kuno,” Tsura interjected sweetly.

 

“The hour, though, is late, and I should excuse myself to sleep,” Kuno went on. “Zuto Nui watch over you, and good night.”

 

We parted ways with the Datsue and her Dashi shadows, and headed out along the same crystal path we’d taken into the Gardens. As Tsura was lost from view, Kuno turned his head back to me and spoke with hushed animation. There was no mention of the murdered assassin; that was beyond his concern now, for he had found a new scheme to achieve the invasion that his clan sought.

 

“Fetch me this Nihi.”

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OOC: I think I'll try writing Sanei in first-person for a change... might be interesting.

 

IC: Sanei - Sado

 

I fought back a wave of frustration directed at my guard. I'd made it perfectly clear that I didn't want to talk about it, but she'd brought it up anyway. Still, the topic would probably come up again later... might as well address it now. Besides, the question wasn't all that different from something I'd heard a thousand times before-'Slow down, Sanei, take it easy. Why don't you take a vacation? You're killing yourself.'

 

So, it was only natural that I reply with something I'd said and thought a thousand times: "It is befitting of a member of Clan Umbraline to work tirelessly." My tone was crisp, the familiar words 'spoken' with just a hint of pride. "It is only natural that I strive to uphold my family name."

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IC: Eshai

 

Eshai didn't respond, merely listening in silence. It was a good enough answer, it told everything that was needed to understand. But at the same time, it seemed almost hollow. There was pride inside the voice, but that didn't change the fact that walking at a heightened pace did nothing to uphold one's honor. There was something more to it, that she was certain of.

 

But, that was enough from her. Eshai knew that asking that question itself was more than she should have. It just wasn't her place to ask questions of her betters. "Yes, I understand what you speak of. I once held similar goals within my own clan."

 

Earlier Sanei had questioned her about her clan, and gotten the most evasive of answers. If Sanei was willing to talk about herself, even as little as she had, perhaps it would only be fair is she herself offered up something. "Earlier you spoke questions of my clan. Do you truly wish to know of it?"

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IC: Sanei - Sado

 

Again, Eshai had managed to surprise me. I'd expected her to become silent once more, but instead she seemed to want to have a conversation. While a small part of me objected to talking to someone with as low a status as hers for longer than was necessary, there wasn't any harm in getting to know her a bit better. And, though I'd never admit it, her abilities as a warrior had earned her a bit of respect from me.

 

Besides, any onlookers would assume that I was talking to a Menti, so there wasn't much risk in speaking with her.

 

"As a Menti should," I 'said.' "Yes, I would like to know more of your clan."

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IC:

 

While Tazera climbed up to the crows nest, the commodore made her way aft, deftly moving between the Suihei that were changing the watch right now in an efficient and quick manner. She walked up the steps leading to the quarterdeck. As she moved she felt her uniform's cloak flapping around her legs. The wind had picked up quite a bit and looking out to the horizon over the starboard bow she saw the last of the evening light reflecting off of the towers of Sado, casting a glitter against the few clouds in the sky. Pulling out her own spyglass she trained it on the island, taking a closer look to see the progression of the evening tide.

 

Sado's spires were lit from below, creating a mystic feel that the commodore felt she couldn't quite describe, or preferred not to, lest she risked the magic be lost by belittling it with common words. For a second, the words of Mune crossed her mind, teaching her to appreciate the land she was serving to protect. The sight through her spyglass now was a good reminder. But she didn't linger on the feeling, there was work to be done. They would reach the port within the hour and she knew that they needed to unload and do some more work before she could declare shore leave for the non-essential crew. The more they got ready now, the quicker the Dashi could put their feet on solid ground for the first time in a month.

 

Juding by the change of watch and the state of the deck, the Suihei would need some minutes more to get ready at their currenty rapid working pace. She turned towards the helmswoman. "Ease off a little." she ordered. The Dashi nodded. "Aye, commodore." and started to turn the ship a little more leeward. Meanwhile, Ayiwah turned back to the deck and called out:

 

"Haul in the mains and close the foresail!"

 

There was a bustle of activity and the flapping sound of canvas as the order was carried out. With the mainsails down and the jibs and foresail now catching the wind in full the Yukanna slowed down quite a bit, without them having to change to a less direct course. It provided the crew with the time they needed before docking.

 

Soon, Sado was completely on the starboard side and those hands who were not taking care of an immediate task took the time to take in the sight of the island from a distance as well, at least for a few minutes. Then the piers of the yards came into view, stretching out far into the blue waters. There was need to, considering the number of smaller vessels and ships that were docked there at the moment. The hands that had paused, now were hard at work again.

 

"Ready about!"

 

"Ready!" they called back.

 

"Hard alee!"

 

As the prow of the trimaran turned into the wind, the sleek vessel began to slow down and with the timing of the crew, they were running into port just in time without much need for correction. Ayiwah allowed herself a hint of satsifaction playing over her features. The Yukanna was home.

 

 

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OOC: Hope you don't mind Shivada coming in...

 

IC: (Dastana Shivada)

 

She had caught this little rat while on patrol through the palace. She had been in the halls, dressed in the attire of a handmaid. Shivada had walked the palace for years, and was rather friendly with the maids. This one seemed to her a new edition to the staff, quite innocent looking, at first. Excepting a small lump on the side of her robes, that was visible under the pale cloth. At that point, Shivada had became suspicious, and upon a pat-down, discovered a plain looking Tanto, of transparent crystal.

 

At which point, she pinned the would-be assassin to the floor.

 

With the help of another guard, Shivada half-dragged, half-carried the woman through the gardens to the prison cells. After which, they strapped her to a chair, and waited for the Rora's master Willhammers to come and interrogate. Shivada, despite being of the disipline, wasn't as skilled as the two, and with her fellow, stood guard in the chamber. Naginatas crossed over the doorway.

 

IC: (Senavysh Angavur)

 

Sunshard in hand, Sena cautiously approched the origin of the beam. It was in the middle of a field, coming from a small little dwelling. Being slightly superstitious, her mind began to race. Had these beings channeled some unholy energies? Was it a kind of weapon? She didn't know, but she would try to stop it. Part of her screamed 'Don't go to the magical light', and she half accepted it was the rational thing to do. But she was a Taajar Jahagir, not a craven.

 

So she pushed on.

 

It eerily quiet. The beam made nary a sound, the sound of her footsteps drowned by a cushion of grass. The jangle of crystalline mail, and the sound of her and her cousins breathing were the only thing breaking the silence. But as they neared, she heard noise, noise that could have been a thousand things. She increased her pace until she was only feet away from the door. With a silent signal, she and her companions rushed it.

 

The door opened with a crack, the yellow blade of her long-kris glimmered, and a cry came out of her mouth. "Stop your sorcery! By the will of Mother Zuto!"

I occasionally return to BZP for a nostalgic trip back. Hit me up on discord if you need anything. 
 
BZPRPG Characters that I will possibly revive, Mons-Shajs-Tarotrix-Aryll Vudigg-Jorruk Yokin-Senavysh Angavur

 

 

 

 

 

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IC: Eshai

 

She hadn't known if Sanei still had any interest, or if it was just a mildly passing thought that had already vanished. She would have preferred it to be the latter, but was relatively unsurprised when Sanei still wished to know.

 

Sanei had hired her without ever being told what clan she was from. She could very well have been a member of an opposing family before being brought down to nothing. Maybe she had even been a downright enemy, but still she had been hired. It spoke of either Sanei's trustful nature, or her stupidity. As of the moment, she doubted the latter.

 

Eshai could tell whatever story she wanted, create something that had never happened and pass it off as fact. But, lying to her employer went against her own beliefs.

 

"My clan held great value on strength above mental power. The ability to use your mind can help you when you have time to think and to use them. In battle, one often has to rely on merely fighting in the moment, and reflexes and strength win out when one has to rely on instinct." She began, giving a pause should Sanei have any questions.

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IC: Eshai

 

"This desire for strength is what brought my clan to ruin. The last male born to my clan died in an attempt to prove his strength, leaving no one left to carry on my clan. The clan fell into pieces, swallowed up by those surrounding it. As far as I know, they are all dead now."

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IC: Eshai

 

"It took place over a period of time, the deterioration was a slow process. It has been long enough that I am no longer sure on the exact date, only that it was several centuries back." She stopped, calmly glancing up at the sky.

 

"It appears to be getting late."

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IC: Sanei - Sado

 

I nodded again. That explained why I only recalled the barest details- I probably hadn't been born yet.

 

That thought made me pause. Eshai was almost certainly older than I by a few centuries. I suddenly began to wonder what she thought of me... young and foolish, maybe? She'd already commented on how hard I worked at everything, and said she'd once had goals similar to mine... perhaps I reminded her of herself at a young age. Had her life once revolved around honoring her family name, much like mine did, only to find it torn away from her?

 

Then I caught myself. What she thought of me didn't matter- after all, she had no clan, something that even the lowest of Saihoko possessed. Besides, I was a member of Clan Umbraline, the most powerful Clan in the Archipelago. My clan would certainly never fall within my lifetime, if ever. Really, comparing myself to Eshai was laughable. She was my guard, I reminded myself, nothing more.

 

"Hmm? Oh, yes," I said, returning to verbal speech. Some of my usual insufferable tone was beginning to creep back into my voice.

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IC: Eiyu Ankora (Sado)

 

As a Holy Woman, Ankora was quickly granted access to the beautiful gardens of Sado, sticking out like a green tumor in the cobalt blue sea of crystal all around her, the park was a place Ankora gladly frequented.

 

She could hear the chatter of the odd Janu bird here and there, perhaps out on a walk with their Dasaka partners, or maybe even the rare wild one.

 

One such burd settled in a tree beside her, Ankora perked up to study the majestic creature, taking special note of its fine coat of feathers.

 

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not I should've gone for Willhammer instead" Ankora said to the Janu bird, in response it released a high-pitched chirp.

 

"Maybe then I'd be sure of intelligent conversation" she said with a chuckle.

 

OOC: Ankora is open for interaction

Edited by Dr. O

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IC | What. Just. Happened. That was the first thing that came to Aki's mind. Turns out she had been bested in combat. Not good. She would have to train long and hard, because if that duel was to-the-death, she would have been beheaded. Aki got to her feet, put away her sword and began to remove her claws.

 

"Likewise, friend, likewise." Aki replied.

 

Akone knew good sportsmanship, apparently. Aki did, too, but was rather disappointed in herself for losing the match. Once her weapons were off, she offered to shake her opponent's hand.

IC: Hogo Akone

Akone smiled a little. She felt exerted from this fight.

 

"You're good," Akone said as she shook Aki's hand.

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OOC:

First post as a Dasaka.

 

Also, Geardirector, here's some interaction. Sakrayo and Ankora are both Datsue in clans related to knowledge, so a good for interaction, right?

 

IC: Sakrayo - Sado

The Datsue walked through the gardens of Sado, as she liked to do when she was not needed at the School of the Mind. Her walking cane hit the ground, and she walked forward. She was really looking for someone to talk to, when she heard something that interested her.

 

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not I should've gone for Willhammer instead"

"Maybe then I'd be sure of intelligent conversation."

Sakrayo turned around and faced the voice. It was a Datsue, like herself, talking to a Janu bird. Sakrayo walked up to her and said,
"Hello. I'm Daikura Sakrayo, and I was looking for someone to talk to. Who are you?"

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IC: Eiyu Ankora (Sado)

 

Ankora turned to see a fellow Datsue walk up beside her. Perhaps she was going to get her wish after all.

 

"Eiyu Ankora at your service" she responded, giving the other Datsue a polite nod.

 

"Daikura, you say?" she continued, cocking her head in an inquistive manner, "I believe I ran into your Palace Guardian just recently. Friendly enough gal, and quite the mind on her too"

Edited by Dr. O

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IC: Eiyu Ankora (Sado)

 

Ankora flashed a mischievious, almost malicious grin. It was time to get philosophical up in here.

 

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid. First of all, ignoring the circumstances in which the question was asked; tell how? tell apart, tell off, tell about? The different ways one could take that question are practically endless."

 

"For the sake of argument, let's say you asked me to tell you about my unorthodox train of thought, then we run into another conundrum. Am I to tell about its unorthodoxy, its nature as a train of thought, or both?"

 

"And if both, then in what order, and how? In song, in speech, in writing, in poetry? Or perhaps even with hand signals"

 

To punctuate the statement, Ankora started making nonsensical gestures with her hand.

Edited by Dr. O

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OOC: Time to try first person...

 

IC: Eshai

 

That was all that I wanted to tell Sanei, it was all that she needed to know. Anything more was beyond what I was willing to speak of, there was no point in burdening Sanei with information she no doubt had no interest in. My clan was gone, to speak of them brought back memories that I would prefer remained buried. Every detail was a painful reminder that I had once had family, once been among those I could call my friends. Never had I thought that there would be a time when not one of them still remained.

 

As far as I knew, they were all dead now, lost into history as nothing more than a passing memory. I had outlived them all to become the sole survivor. I wondered if anyone else from that time remembered them, knew that they even existed. Sanei held no knowledge of them, showing that they probably were not taught about. Unsurprising considering the small size of the clan, but all the same it hurt. They had deserved more than to just vanish into nothingness. They were good people, they had earned a place in history.

 

But history is reserved for those with power, only the most famous will be remembered. They could do absolutely nothing, but be revered as a great leader when time passes. But the people belong such greatness, who would remember them? Only their friends and family. And what happened when those friends and family followed them into death?

 

Anything left to history would be but passing references in books, barely a word about the people themselves. But I knew them, even knowI could recall details about their lives. Such small things, and yet so important to understanding a person. I could never even begin to explain to anyone else what they were like. All the words I could ever speak would not be enough to describe one person, and I knew so many. And they would all be forgotten as soon as I myself was gone.

 

Perhaps Sanei and I were not so different. She wanted to preserve the honor of her clan, I did not want mine to be lost forever. But I was but one person, I could no more preserve a clan than I could create one anew. I would be the last member of my clan. And then, with me, it would die. Did Sanei even wonder if she would be remembered after her death? Clan Umbraline was powerful, but wouldn't those not of the highest rank just vanish into oblivion as history moved onward?

 

Perhaps she did not realize, but in the end our fates would be the same. Everyone is forgotten but an influential few.

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Ic: When I awoke the next morning I felt pretty nice and well rested as I folded the comforter away from my body and sat upright in my really big bed. The sun shone warm rays through the huge stained crystal windows on one wall and cast pretty pretty hues of gold, green and crimson across my room's expanse and my eyelids. I got up and stretched, first gingerly to the sides before sitting at the foot of my bed and reaching up to the bed's canopy, but then I yawned wide and loud and collapsed backwards, ending up... pretty much how I was before: Lying on the bed.

 

I shut my eyes and masticated as my mind urged me to sleep even longer, but I should have known that all this bliss would come crashing down around me like a doormouse's mind crushed by a Willhammer's domination.

 

"Yumi!" Hanako called out.

 

She didn't bother knocking -- no, my perky little handmaiden generally doesn't knock on my doors. I don't really mind it. I mean, she's my best friend and everything so why should I care--

 

"Yumi, wake up!" she persisted, throwing the curtains farther to the corners and doubling the ambient light in my room.

 

Oh, maybe I should care from now on. This is way too much. She even opened the windows and that just doubled the brightness again!

 

"Ughhh go awayyyy..." I murmured halfheartedly and buried my head in the super soft comforter. I mean, yeah, I was well rested but that doesn't mean I liked having my beauty sleep interrupted. 'Sides, I was literally in the middle of waking up. I'd be up and around in no time! That is... if Hanako had bothered waiting another, oh, hour or two.

 

"Yumi! It's past the sundial's ninth hour! You'll be late for lessons!" Hanako helpfully prodded. I could hear her retreat into my walk-in closet for a moment as my mind raced to full alert and I bolted upright. "I recommend you put this on, my lady," my handmaiden counseled as she laid one of my red half-skirts on my lap. I sort of coldly inspected the garment and felt its fine weaves with absentminded fascination before resolving that, yes, I should probably put that on and do so promptly so I could carry on being chojo and not just some spoiled princess with lackluster time-reading powers.

 

I got up and slipped the clothes on quietly -- Hana always hates it when I do things without speaking to her and narrating my feelings about it but I find such playing to be fun! -- and moved to one of the windows she had opened, then sat upon a stool she gingerly tucked behind me just as I sat. I seemed cool and patient on the outside as I allowed her to begin putting the moist sponge of oils and fragrances on my face and body, but I just wanted to get moving. I might be late for my lessons!

 

Now, some girls and ladies aren't exactly fond of learning. I can't imagine why, though. I mean, learning is part of living! Learning gives us knowledge and knowledge makes us better and being better gives us more Power. I absolutely love learning new things, and every moment I'm spending getting preened up by Hana just delays that adventure. She always says that Umbralines are the fairest of them all and that I, among all of them, radiate beauty the most. Normally I would discount that for flattery among friends, but when that opinion is shared by several people of varying backgrounds I start listening. (Or maybe they're just flattering me because I'm the chojo ad they think that by making me feel good about myself they can be my cupbearer or something. Well let me make it clear to you that I hate it when people are nice just to expect something, which I guess kinda validates Hana's opinion of me because she can't get anything more from this arrangement. Hmm.)

 

"You know what?" I said as I seized her hand with mine, halting the morning scrub. "I'm going to pass on this for now." I got up and started for my room's door. "Grab my cloak; let's go."

 

"Yes, Yumi," Hana agreed as she followed in my wake. It's a good thing she was as quick as me because I was already out the door by the time she was readily following me.

 

* * * * *

Whenever I leave the apartments I am always accompanied by my own personal escort. First there is Hanako and she always walks beside and a little behind me. The other handmaidens -- I have three others, see -- follow at a much more respectable distance. They are still friends but nowhere as near and dear to me as Hana. Actually, they really aren't friends really even though they are always friendly to me, but then again I am the chojo and they are supposed to be generous to their master, so they're more just servants to me. Anyway, beyond Hanako and the servants there are the guards who encircle me virtually all the time even when I'm not aware that they are there. One or two are always near and within sight, but I know -- Hana tells me this -- that there are at least a half-dozen of them and they flit in and out of sight, always watching and protecting me. I still don't feel safe, though.

 

It's not that I doubt their loyalty -- the members of Clan Hogo have protected the royal family for as long as an Umbraline has sat on the Crystal Throne without a single hint of betrayal on their record -- it's just that the fact that the retainers are often out of sight that troubles me. Don't think I'm some poor, helpless lady always worried about some tragedy befalling my frail constitution, I just don't trust what I don't know... And what I do know is that this is Sado and intrigue drifts on every corner of the palace grounds.

 

I heard from one guard just yesterday that there was an arrest -- some would-be assassin was captured and incarcerated. What made it all so much more troubling was that the captive apparently died in his cell with no sign of force. I'm not sure what to make of it but just the thought of that scares me a little. This is a dangerous place.

 

Luckily I'll be under the tutelage of Inokio soon. I could already see his clan banner flapping limply from his windowsill on the Yards and eagerly awaited for his lesson. Inokio was the First Son of Clan Korae, a relatively insignificant clan by all respects beside their tradition of raising excellent naval officers, and had used his status to have his home permanently placed in the Yards. Like his clan, it was small compared to everything around it but it was a breath of fresh air for me away from the vastness of the Imperial Palace, which's sun-struck glimmer still shines down on me even as I'm walking away from it at a distance. (Majestic and cool? Frick yeah! But I'm too used to it to really care.)

 

Finally! I came up to Inokio's door and one of my servants knocked on it twice. Two Hogo retainers suddenly appeared and stood on either side of the doorway like decorative knight armor just as Inokio unlatched the door to let me and my maidens in.

 

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation for his lesson. Inokio is more than a First Son; he is one of the famed "Battlemasters," (the title given to masters of three disciplines) and the only male to hold that title currently, something that, in some eyes (like mine!), gives him as much if not more cool factor than his place as First Son. I sniff something absolutely delectable in the air and turn to Inokio in delight. "What have you baked? Is that--..." I ask and eagerly waltz towards his kitchen, abandoning my thought as I went.

 

"Oh, just your favourite," Inokio chuckles. "Cherry honey crumbcake. BUT, before you eat any--" he says and sagely holds a finger upwards indicating to wait a moment.

 

"Tugh lay!" I mumble back with a mouthful and cracked a grin.

 

"I see, I see," Inokio says with a disappointed sigh as he shakes his head. "Hanako, there's a new book of music and an instrument awaiting for you in the other room. Enjoy yourself as I excuse myself and the chojo for the lesson. Yumi?"

 

"Oh mui weigh," I say before I stuffed another mouthful of pastry into my maw and follow the battlemaster out onto the back porch to his private pier.

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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