Bzprpg - Ta-Wahi

[Light]

IC: Nita followed the others quietly, listening to their conversation.

[Constructelf]

IC Turo Meanwhile, Turo was playing with one of his lockpicks while whistling a "song" to himself.

[Dralcax]

OOC: Let's get this started again...

IC Geon

Geon formulated a quick plan. Using his Kakama, he swiftly ran behind Axeron, then slashed at Axeron with his sword.

[NorikSigma]

IC: Feran"I agree. I'm still sad over that," Feran replied.OOC: Wait, is Dorgath part of the Team?

[Visaru]

OOC

Yes, he is.

 

IC

Dorgath nodded awkwardly and fell into silence. He wasn't very good at keeping up conversation or being very charismatic. He didn't know what else to say to keep his ally talking, and had even less of an idea about how to possibly influence Feran into questioning the Turaga.

 

The silence continued as the team approached the looming Ta-Koro gates, where a Miru wearing guard waited to raise the bridge for them.

[NorikSigma]

IC: FeranFeran looked off into the distance for q while."I always wanted to talk to the Tiraga. He was always... he always struck me as a serenely strong leader. And we were there a few seconds.after he died," Feran said.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"That's one of those things that I really don't want to think about," Nei said, frowning.

[Franco]

IC: "Ah, dear boy, but it is of no matter." Naara leaned back into the wall. Her arms extended, she arched her spine and sighed. The toa's gaze had previously basked the room in emerald effulgence as it waited the return of its primary occupant. Now it glided across Dorian to settle its ethereal light on his gaze alone. She paused to study him for a brief second before she smirked again. "You have much more pertinent things to teach me, if you may educate me on anything." One of Naara's hands unfolded sinuously, index finger making the most slight and casual of curls from pointing at Dorian to gesturing back towards the spot adjacent to her body on the cot. "Come and duly inform me of the process of your incarceration."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

I'm a tremendously educated guy. If I were allowed to have personal effects in my cell from pre-incarceration, I would have diplomas hanging like a shawl (or a scarf; haters are my motivators!) around my mirror for a variety of subjects. But the way Naara fired massive words that would make plebeian heads explode like they were hit with mortar shells...whoo. I get jittery just thinking about it.

 

As soon as she beckoned with her finger I was on the cot: even without the Calix, I could still get places in a blink through sheer physical training. Couple that with psychological voodoo, and I was for all intents and purposes a total ghost. Or a devil.

 

I felt Naara loosen and fall apart like ice, melting into a puddle of water at my feet, as I crept up behind her on the cot and began to massage gently at her back and shoulders, relieving the underlying tension that had built up there while she waited for me. Naara's head bobbed languidly, falling back onto my chin; her eyes were closed and peaceful, and from the view here, I almost missed the view of her smirk. Almost.

 

"I turned myself in for a bunch of crimes I either didn't commit, or was guilty of by association," I sighed, moving my grip down from Naara's shoulders to her sides. "And a couple that I did commit, but I was drunk for and can't remember."

 

"Only a couple?"

 

Naara's eyes opened up lazily at that, staring up at me with so much hazel I felt as though it may have actually discolored my face a little bit, and I laughed with a closed mouth as I leaned in and kissed her forehead.

 

"If I'd really committed them, they wouldn't ever know enough to file charges."

 

-Tyler

Edited March 13, 2013 by Tyler Durden

[Franco]

IC: "Well, then." Naara percolated into Dorian's arms, contact eliciting a sigh more of relaxation than of lethargy. She let her eyelids fall. "Considering the manner in which you've waltzed about this place, I'd guess you find little trouble with the current arrangements. Yet..."

 

Her smirk fell for a second and she almost frowned. Then it reclaimed her expression and caused another opening of the eyes, gaze-frank, but playful-hovering about her love's as a sprightly hummingbird hovers about nectar.

 

"'Yours is a life that doesn't deserve to be wasted,'" She recited softly. "'You deserve better than the gilded prison this place offers,' Dorian."

Edited March 17, 2013 by Mr. Peanuts

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"I know I do."

 

Naara's eyes killed me, drove into my heart harder than any flamberge, and I reached up gently and cradled her jawbone with the crook between my thumb and my index finger, using the former to connect with her cheekbone and twirling the latter around her jawline. She settled into my touch smoothly, with all the grace I'd come to associate with her very being. The weight of her words was more blunt, hammering into me with stark familiarity and a bit of guilt. I wanted to think that the Dorian who'd said those words was long dead, that he'd sunk to the bottom of the ocean with the Kumu Islets, but as a great philosopher once said, you can't always get what you want. I'd just sort of...melded the two Dorians into one being, attempted some form of balance between the two.

 

Time to use a lifeline. I've already phoned a friend in Tuara. There's no 50/50. I suppose I have to ask the audience.

 

Which would you choose, nihilism or purity?

 

"But I won't be here forever," I continued, slightly more forcefully. "I promise you that. And when I get out, the two of us are going to build a life together, anywhere in the world you want to lay a foundation. And no one will ever interfere with us again if we don't want them to. And we'll be unstoppable."

 

That same philosopher, he later went on to say that if you try sometimes, you just might find that, well...you get what you need.

 

-Tyler

[Razgriz]

IC: Well, this was a familiar scenario.

 

How many times had it been that he found himself trudging through ash, dirt, slush, or sand, slowly staggering into a city both looking and feeling half dead? For example, we'll run a status check. Eyes? Dry, aching. Tongue? Practically a desert. Entire muscular system? Throbbing, achey, sometimes barely responsive. Soles of the feet? Hide like that of a Tahtorahk, can barely feel the things any more. And that's just scratching the surface.

 

It was no wonder Jolek wore a weary, satisfied grin as he entered Ta-Koro. Excellent conditioning and athleticism only carried you so far in cross-island travels.

 

OOC: Let's see how long this burst of activity lasts~

Edited March 17, 2013 by Raz: Lord of Going Fast

[Franco]

IC:

 

Naara smiled.

 

...

 

"It's reassuring to know you've formulated a strategy." She gave Dorian a little punch in the arm. "Naara I'Rohu and Dorian Shaddix versus the world." Her eyes closed. "But it's advisable to practice that strategy beforehand. I suggest we train."

[25K Now!]

OOC: Stronin from Ga-wahi.

 

IC: [stronin]

 

The Toa of Iron dropped down in front of the gates to Ta-koro, looking around.

 

OOC: Open for interaction.

[Palm]

IC: Tuara Drigton - Ta-KoroA splash of water in the face.You can't bother attempting to justify what's happening here. Not in the state you're still in.The "state" I'm in?Being a hopeless alcoholic.I really appreciate how you sugar coat all your criticisms to make everybody feel alright even when they're being confronted about something.You aren't healthy mentally, and consuming all this drink is doing nothing to help you in that department, not to mention what it's doing to your overall health. Every night it's the same thing. You come home from your detrimental visits with a psycho, wish you worked out earlier that day, open up a bottle, drown whatever shells of feelings you have left in it's contents before you cry yourself to sleep. I'd like to pretend that I'm paraphrasing here. But this looks to be your evening schedule every night since you stormed out of Ko-Koro like a child.Wiping her face clean Tuara stepped over to the mirror next to her. Tuara was too familiar with a mirror. She was never one to get caught up in vanity. Sure, she cared. Everybody cared about how they presented themselves to the world to some extent. Despite the way she looked, she never felt that appearance was really all that important. Bags under her eyes, slumped shoulders, and even the way she was standing made Tuara feel uncomfortable with herself. Not because she didn't look as good, but because of what that look meant. It was a reminder that somewhere down the road, she screwed up. Which was not something she needed.I'll admit I'm not in the best condition right now, but I just need more time to get back on my feet. Recuperate ya know?Tuara pushed off the counter, sending herself away from it before turning on her heel.And get off my back about Ko-Koro. That was a stupid move, I get it. There's a reason I left the Guard remember? You're preaching to the converted.Yet every single time we bring up your drinking, you keep telling me you need more time.Tuara continued walking to her bed room where she would find more bottles to deal with.Whatever! We'll talk about it later!Promise?Promise.Fine.Tuara stooped over, reaching for a bottle she left on her bed. Upon gripping the bottle only half steadily, she stood back up, turning around. After completing the turn Tuara was greeted with a surprise in the doorway. Startled, a hungover Tuara didn't let out a gasp, but she did fumble for a blade on her back.The figure was impossible to discern in terms of identity though, because before she had a chance to recognize it, it had disappeared in a flash and flurry of colors. Tuara, breathing heavily scanned the room, searching for any signs of anybody or anything. Blade pointed forwards in one hand, bottle in the other, she stood there for a very long time, suddenly feeling very vulnerable in her own home. Minutes passed before the Toa dropped the empty bottle where she found it before speedily walking out of her room and into the kitchen again. She did not sheathe her blade, nor did she stop. No time was wasted getting out of her home and into the streets of Ta-Koro.Mentally punishing herself for not whipping her blade at the being or at least pursuing it, Tuara slammed her door shut behind her, feeling a lot more secure outside with her people and the heat of the morning sun on her face. The Toa of fire let out an unsettling sigh before carefully sheathing her weapon finally.Did you see that Dren?See what?The being in the doorway, those paint things!...Tuara.What?I didn't see anything.

Edited March 19, 2013 by snoip lion

[Toa Of Anarchy]

OOC Involved with Lotr-nui and kopekemaster

IC. Otokax

Otokax woke up feeling extremely normal, which for him was very UNnormal for a guide of just about ever mountain in Mata-nui. "Back to the grind" muttered Otokax as he rolled out of bed off of his bed. Unfortunately, he landed on his Kohli ball and bounced up into the air. Luckily, he landed on his bio tall stack of maps for the mountains that he sold for 3 widgets apiece in the market. (most of them aren't actually REAL maps but, if you get eaten by Rahi, or get lost, you can't come back and complain. Feeling very flustered, he recovered his scattered maps, picked up a few of his especially bad ones, grabbed his small dagger, and hurried to his usually place at the market square.

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak

 

Hantak wlaked slowly near the gate of Ta-Koro, feeling the heat of Ta-Wahi. Soon, he noticed Stronin. He walked toward him, wondering of he could rob or trick him. "Who are you?" he asked, faking a smile.

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

"Stronin," replied the Iron Toa, returning the smile. "Also, approaching someone like that? Way too obvious. And that expression of yours isn't realistic enough. Even the standard 'bump-into-someone' and make off with their cash stuff works better."

 

The former thief crossed his arms.

 

"Now, what exactly do you want? Other than my money?"

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak

 

Hantak decided to continue the act, at least for the current time. "Why would I want your money? I was just wondering who you were." he replied.

Edited March 20, 2013 by Randy Disher

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

"Suure," he drawled. "It's perfectly normal for a person to approach a random stranger who isn't doing anything and ask their name."

 

The Iron Toa snapped his fingers.

 

"Of course, if you do want to know who I am, then I'll indulge you. Stronin Empato Nobies, blacksmith, at your service."

[The Swimming Beard]

IC:

 

Hantak was beginning to get angry. His act clearly wasn't working, and it was only a matter of time until the Toa simply decided to leave. He made one last attempt. "My name is Hantak" he replied, concealing his anger.

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

"Cool," said the Toa of Iron simply, wondering why exactly he was wasting his time.

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak

 

Hantak had had enough. He loaded his zamor launcher and pointed it at Stronin, asking "How much money do you have?"

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

"Zilch," said Stronin, his sword already in hand, the tip pointing into Hantak's chest. "Former thief. I do community service. No pay."

 

He smiled.

 

"Tell me, can you get a blow off before I stab you?"

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak

 

Hantak growled, feeling the tip of the sword. Still, he knew Stronin would not risk stabbing him, as Hantak had the zamor launcher aimed directly at him. "I think I could." he replied, unsure if the statement was true.

Edited March 24, 2013 by Randy Disher

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

"No, no you can't."

 

In an instant, Stronin's other arm flew upwards, pushing the launcher away from him with a metallic rod that formed in his hand.

 

"Now then, go away before I feel like stabbing you."

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: HAntak

 

Hantak lashed at Stronin with his other clawed hand, aiming for his body.

Edited March 24, 2013 by Randy Disher

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

Stronin pulled back, quickly moving several steps away from Hantak.

 

"Come on man, I don't want to fight."

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak:

 

Hantak said nothing, and slowly moved back, looking for his zamor launcher.

[25K Now!]

IC: [stronin]

 

Stronin took the time to activate his mask, and flew upwards into the air and away from Hantak.

[The Swimming Beard]

IC: Hantak

 

Hantak found his zamor launcher and picked it up, then saw Stronin flying away. In his frustration, he let off a shot at the Toa, which flew harmlessly to the side.

[Hitoshura]

OOC: Ryzen and Syvra(Vox's character) from Le-WahiIC: RyzenHaving reached the Le/Ta-Wahi border a few minutes before, Ryzen started to feel the heat of this volcanic region. Syvra had brought the two of them here after all. "So, Ta-Koro now? Or is there anyplace you want to go?"

[Voxumo]

IC: Syvra

 

Syvra sighed a bit feeling the heat.

"I think Ta-Koro would work well. Maybe we can find something out about the information i discovered while at the Le-Koro."

He smiled a bit

"You would be surprised how much you hear at taverns."

[Hitoshura]

IC: Ryzen"Ta-Koro would do. What did you hear at the tavern? I understand if you don't want to tell me, fine." Ryzen was curious. He did not care if the news was bad, just some news would be fine.

[Voxumo]

IC: Syvra

 

Syvra looked around a bit before leaning to look at ryzen a bit closer

"I had heard that almost all the turaga of each koro has been killed. I know for a fact Matau is among the dead one's."

[Hitoshura]

IC: Ryzen"What? Are you sure about this? Like, all six of them?" Ryzen was surprised. Nuju was killed? He never been close to Nuju, but he was still leader.

Edited March 25, 2013 by Takua Dragonstar7

[Voxumo]

IC: Syvra

 

Syvra nodded a bit while looking towards the north

"Well that is what i heard. But i am hoping to find out more info. I figure we can ask around about Turaga Vakama."

[Hitoshura]

IC: Ryzen"I was looking for news, that might help. When did you become so involved in this?" Ryzen asked. He just wondered why Syvra suddenly became interested. It was serious news, though.

[shadow pridak money gang]

"I used to be a goddamned saint

I said my prayers and handled snakes

Until the road introduced me to sin

I only shook hands with drink,

but he had his friends with him.

 

I curse the day we raised our glass

Up like a bridge to let the Devil pass

'Cause he ain't ever left this town

And only beaten and unborn are living

With him now.

 

I used to be a holy man

Once put an onion in a beggar's hand

But now, I'd rather not believe

How could a man I've never met be

So cruel to me?"

 

- "Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow," Every Time I Die

 

(OOC: Thanks to Mang for the Naara dialogue.)

 

IC:

 

Contrary to popular opinion, your boy here has boundary lines. Limits.

 

I don't make fun of orphans. Okay, well...I do, but I try not to, because that's inherently wrong. I don't knock fashion sense unless it's objectively terrible; as long as you try to look like you didn't just cut holes in a potato sack and throw it over your body, I'll do my damnedest not to put you down about it. In that same sense, I will never, ever hate on a teacher just for trying to make their student do something, because students are generally kids, and kids are generally little twits. Me, I'm still a kid. I should be in some form of higher education right now, were it not for the fact that I'm a genius and that I got my entire tuition fund by murdering Bula juice executives?

 

Okay, you say, so I'm a kid. Does that mean I'm a twit? Why don't you try asking me that question when I've put a Kolhii stick through your front teeth?

 

Kidding, kind of.

 

Clearly, though, I was enough of a twit to scoff at training because I made some kind of incredulous noise and Naara's gaze froze up like a cup of water on the roof of a cheap Ko-Wahi motel; I feel like, in hindsight, if she could have plucked out her eyes and then shot them through my eyes so they could bounce around my brain and turn it to a collection of postmodernist stains on the inside of my scalp, she would have done it, then proceeded to lop off my head, cut off my face, then market my faceless head - with the stains in full view - at an art gallery.

 

Can we send Tuara back in here, please?

 

"Training's a vital part of anyone's self-improvement," she said sternly. I gulped and tried to lean back against the wall, but she leaned with me, still in my lap, arms still coiled dangerously around my neck. I looked over her shoulder as much as I could and smirked at something on the far wall; I could tell Naara was slightly suspicious about whether or not it was a ruse, but the smirk didn't disappear, and finally she lost a bit of ambivalence in the interest of curiosity.

 

"What?"

 

"Oh, nothing. Just admiring my new minifridge."

 

There was a terse silence in the room as Naara decided whether or not to take me seriously. Finally, she scoffed and smirked languidly. The very touch of her arms around my neck grew slightly chillier, which was odd considering she was definitely a Toa of Water and not Ice, but regardless I stood my ground. Eventually, the touch turned warm, and her smirk became more coy, playful. Her hazel eyes took on much the same look.

 

"If you really think I'm going to buy that, my dear boy, I'm afraid I..."

 

"You don't believe me, go ahead and turn around."

 

Without waiting for me to rescind the offer, she did turn around - hah, knew it - and her trained, keen eyes fell on the cooler in the corner of the room. The loop around my neck grew tighter like a toned, exquisite noose as she turned back towards me, smirk gradually becoming a playful smile. I, on the other hand, was the perennial picture of altar boy innocence, all big, wide, too-blue eyed charm and innocent "o" for a mouth. Tank was sound asleep; nobody else was patrolling the cell block for the next nine hours. This was the way my mind worked, my assassin's mind, my deviant's psyche, my devil's charm and charisma.

 

When I started out on this thrill ride, I was a Grade-A prettyboy with something to prove and the world in front of me. When I took a breather, I was in a jail cell and nothing had really changed, except now I never had to prove anything ever again and I'd taken the world, squashed it into one giant clay ball, then swallowed it and let it sit in my chest for years on end. I'd redefined the art of the amoral intellectual; perhaps I'd even recreated it, risen it from its dormancy like a necromancer does a corpse. Then I had touched it up, made it a work of beauty. I was everything alive about the new generation of Toa, the ones who accepted their own youth and beauty and potential for the gifts they were, instead of reasons to be indebted to the whims of others: party 'till nauseous, puke 'till you can party again, then repeat. Maybe kill a guy now and then: whatever helps you fund steps one, two, and three on the nightly.

 

I was, in one way, an undiluted prophet. In another way, I was also the most disgusting kind of serpent. Most people saw that as a choice, an opportunity to live your life one way or the other. Me? From the day I was born, I've always played for both teams, whenever I had the chance to. That was the choice I made; that was the secret option behind door number three. All it took was the slightest push, and an entire world opened up to you behind that door, the likes of which you couldn't imagine in your wildest fever dream.

 

Speaking of fever dreams...

 

Slowly, the crackling, tension-filled air between Naara and I shrank and shrank in on itself until it disappeared all at once and our lips met: it was intended to be soft, but instead the kiss came fast and furious. Naara's arms tightened around my neck as we rolled over on the cot, my arms slipping under the folds of her - my - marching jacket and sliding it off, leaving just her trademark cotton t-shirt underneath. Our smirks reflected off each other, perfect white teeth shining like diamonds as I leaned down and kissed her again, this time going for her t-shirt.

 

Cut to black.

 

...

 

There's a moral, I guess, to be found from the events that transpired throughout my life in the last eighteen months. There has to be, somewhere; dig deep enough, search enough ground, go through enough of the events and the cacophony in my head, and you'll find it. So what is it, you ask? What have I learned? How have I improved as a person since I first strolled into Ga-Koro looking for a nice, easy assassination to claim?

 

######. You.

 

###### you for your idealism. ###### you for thinking that every experience is one you can grow from and use to flourish like you're a bright and shiny sunflower all happy and perky in the summer mornings. Here's a newsflash: flowers die. They freeze to death before your eyes and they shoot off a seed or two, and then they die, and then they abandon their kids to make the same mistakes that they did. ###### you for thinking that people can change, giving them the hope that they can change, and then snatching it out from under them when it turns out that you're just as festering and broken at the pressure points as they are. Most importantly, ###### you - and this is a biggie, remember - ###### you for caring. I don't need it; I don't want it. I used to, a lot. I used to really want that kind of care, but it's overrated and it sucks and it only leads to more pain.

 

Don't you pity me, either. I'm doing fine. Better than fine: I took prison, of all places, and made it my own. I look around me, and I see the best parts of my old life dropped into my new one. Everything here is free, and everyone here will bend to my whims just because I do what I do best: screw up other people's lives. As a matter of fact, now that all I have to do is what I do best, surrounded by what I like best, I'm pretty set. Prison's what you make it, right? I mean, with a setup like this, I could last forever. Chances are I'll last longer than you will. You hear me, reader?

 

I'll never fade away. Got that? I'll never fade away. I will never fade away. Yeah, and you'd better believe it, too. Because I'm not going anywhere! I'll never fade away! I'll never fade away! Come on, man...I can't fade away...

 

Cut to black.

 

-Tyler

Edited March 26, 2013 by Tyler Durden

[Voxumo]

IC: Syvra

 

Syvra shaked his head a bit.

"You know i am not truly sure. I mean i woke up in the snow drifts of Ko-Wahi before i made it to Le-wahi. I have all my memories of before that but i don't remember why i ended up there or what took place a year proir to it. So maybe i am just seeking answers and maybe a part of me hopes i will find information through researching this."

 

Syvra figured that was as good an answer as possible