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IC:

As always, he was a salve for Mata Nui's most troubled soul. 

His dark green eyes, swimming with mysteries and old aches that only Dorian could solve; his strong jawline, as chiseled and resolute as Stannis or Reordin Maru; the firm, hard line of his mouth, begging to be kissed and always on the edge of a smile only the star-crossed Toa of Iron could bring out...in that instant, as he walked through the door, the twin burdens of his atonement and his failures seemed to lessen on Dor's shoulders, and his eyes burned with new life - bonfires of a blue so iridescent that even his Mark could never evoke. 

"Krayn."

The word was sweeter than chocolate as it left Dor's lips. I thought I would never see you again.

And the young Toa, forever straddling the line between his decent nature and his chaotic temper, leaped from the table into the arms of the only sanctuary he had ever known. He rocked from left to right, arms tight around the De-Toa's shoulders, and heard a pained rasp of breath that Dor took to mean that somehow, unbelievably, Krayn had missed him too.

"Things have been so ##### up since we split up. Praggos gave Skyra a brain tumor. I'm sorry, I tried to stop him, just..." Dorian inhaled deeply and cradled the former Gukko Force lieutenant's head, his handsome face burrowed into the nape of his neck. "Nnnn. You always smell so...competent. What's up, Dehkaz."

-Tyler

Edited by Haman Karn: A Magical Girl
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IC: Skyra Daring - Fowadi - Ostia -

I took a good sip of my newly filled glass as I looked at Luten, who had just arrived to see what we were doing. "Drinking Bourbon, it's a very strong....drink!" Big words were already becoming harder to remember, guess I was at least buzzed already. 

The Dehkaz and Krayn came in, I gave them a grin. I watched Dorian straight up start flirting with Krayn and for whatever reason...yeah I have to admit it was kinda hot. I never thought I'd feel that way towards watching two men embrace but I guess I had changed more than I thought. 

"Are you guys gonna kiss? Can I watch?" I took another sip of my drink. 

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IC: Tekmo (Ostia, Fowadi)

Shrugging - about everything in general, really - Tekmo followed Rynekk.

"To be entirely honest, I haven’t the faintest idea what’s happening around me. That’s a new sensation, it’s not usually the case. After the tour, could you, perhaps, give me a history lesson?" He asked. "Regarding the Aggressors, of course."

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IC: Ember - Ostia, deck of the Fowadi

“Too right, Toa Kale. Haven’ we all..” 

Ember followed the Toa of Iron through the door, descending into the starkly-lit corridors of the giant ship, and marvelling at just how spacious its compartments were compared to other vessels she’d served and taught aboard. “Was first mate meself back in the ol’ fishin’ days… ‘S a lotta fine and gruelling work, lad. Rewardin’ though, if ye’ve got the spine fer it an’ a good skipper.”

Her expression darkened a fraction when he mentioned Onewa and the fate of his fellow Turaga.

“I remember th’ day they called me back ‘cross the Break - was chaos and madness o’er the whole island.”

A few voices, quite distinct, emanated up from a few decks below. Her expression darkened further.

“Lost too many good folk that day, an’ the days followin’.”

___ __ _

 

IC: Jokaro - Po-Koro, Technology Emporium

...what?

He wasn’t one for poetry. He simply grunted, nodding in agreement.

Finally, they arrived at the target range - a ramshackle affair not unlike the launcher being held together by hope and prayer alone.

“Well,” he began, setting down his pack and turning the launcher over in his hands, “guess a dry-fire would be in order first. Let’s hope this thing doesn’t explode on me.”

Pumping the launcher up with the new position of the handle, but the handle itself’s old geometry turned out to be a hassle. Jokaro gave up on holding the pistol grip in his main hand, and elected to just put the launcher’s back-end on the ground and work the pump with both hands, the barrel pointing up at his face.

It it misfired now, he’d be in for one h### of a concussion.

Fortunately, that did not happen after he gave the launcher the requisite number of pumps. He rifled through his pack, and some other junk he’d brought along, clamping a bent sheet of metal over the exposed breech. Satisfied, he picked the contraption back up, turning it towards the open end in the range.

“You may want to stand back,” he intoned to Farzan.

Edited by Perp
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IC:

Alright, time for the old five finger pour.

It wasn't that I'd forgotten how flighty Dorian could be, it was more that I just hadn't expected it so soon in the conversation.

"Luten, keep an eye on her and make sure she stops with that glass. I wasn't planning on us draining the bottle." I turned to Krayn and Dehkaz. "So, Krayn, you're rejoining the crew, right? Because I'll be honest, with you not around I've been feeling like I somehow took your space in the group, and we all know that's a terrible idea."

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profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC:
 

"Hey, Shaddix. Watch the shoulder." Krayn commented, patting the Toa of Iron on the back around a grimace of pain. "If Praggos gave her a tumor he can probably get it back out, too. Hiring negotiations are in progress, Praggos, but it wouldn't hurt your odds if you poured me a little of that."

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

I squinted at the ex-lieutenant. I'd barely noticed it earlier, but he was being fairly ginger with his shoulder. And now, again in here. Still, it had been basically turned into ground meat by the time I got around to it; not sure what lingering bits might've healed in some off way or the like. I grabbed a fourth—and fifth, just in case Dehkaz wanted some as well—glass, and gave Krayn his own bit of bourbon.

"Want me to check up on your shoulder some time? I could at least give you some good stretches and exercises to get more of your old range of motion back."

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profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: Dehkaz [Ostai Docks, Fowadi]

"The usual, Shaddix," Dehkaz replied, taking a step back to give the two men some room as Dorian embraced him. He shook his head slightly in disbelief at seeing the toa of Iron alive and seemingly well, before continuing, "Rumor for the past few weeks had it that you didn't make out alive. Glad to see it was only a rumor."

"We're headed to Po-Koro," He explained, accepting the glass from Praggos, "Getting some technicalities taken care of."

Edited by sunflower
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IC:

"You perfect, noble idiot, you went to save Ko-Koro didn't you? So that's how Sky broke her brain." Dorian was squeezing Krayn's shoulder gingerly, still locked up in the arm that the De-Toa was patting him with. His legs curved a sinuous path around Krayn's waist even as his mouth tightened in displeasure. "Look at all of us, taking injuries, needing to recuperate. When did we all get so old? Here, sailor, you carry me over to the glasses--"

He looked over at Dehkaz, whose pointed references to Dorian's misadventures at Mangaia he had thus far avoided.

"--And I'll tell you everything that happened. As honestly as I know how. But once I start going I'm keeping the bottle. Fair warning."

-Tyler

Edited by Haman Karn: A Magical Girl
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IC: Skyra Daring - Fowadi - Ostia -

I cringed slightly at the mention of Krayn's arm. It was my fault it happened. I took a longer sip of my bourbon, hoping it didn't run out too soon. 

"I'm just gonna...enjoy this sausage fest." What the #### was I saying?

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IC:

With Dorian wrapping himself around Krayn and Skyra looking like she was about ready to melt into a puddle of pure embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh at the goings-on around me. From serious to silly in seconds.

"Luten, you picked an awfully odd time to come in and try to be your usual adorable self." Not that the others in the room weren't managing to keep up with it, in their own various ways. "Thanks for pointing out those flip-up sights to me, earlier. I'd never have noticed them otherwise. I'm used to the sights just being permanently stuck in the 'use' position."

Edited by Pteronura Brasiliensis
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profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC:

"Skyra broke her brain being Skyra. And actually, for once I've got a different Gukko Force officer to blame, and if I ever find out who..." The ex-Lieutenant made a vague throwing away gesture, clearly declining to follow the line of thought any further. One of his shoulders might not have been perfect, but the other was fine and so was his spine. He had no difficulty walking over to the newly poured glasses even with his passenger. "And I was told in no uncertain terms, Shaddix, that I'm not allowed to call myself old yet. So you don't get to, either."

He picked up his glass and took a drink.

"I appreciate the offer, Praggos, and you're welcome to try. But I'll count my lucky stars I lived and not fuss too much about the shoulder."

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fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

The Toa of Iron disentangled himself from Krayn and hoisted himself to sit on the lip of Praggos' liquor cabinet. It was a more precarious seat than the roomy perch he had occupied on the work desk, and he had to brace his foot on another piece of furniture in order to keep from sliding onto the ground. But it was a seat that put him closest to the corner of the room, with a better, full-on view of the room and tucked close to the bed. All present, either veterans in the island's military or accustomed to the seedier walks of life, recognized that the assassin had instinctively picked a seat with a bead on any entrance into the room that also provided cover from them - and, in their more personal experience with him, knew that the Toa of Iron's mood had once again flipped like a switch, and that this was the more genuine of his two emotional states lately. Dorian's foot rocked on the chair he braced on, restless in his half-seat. 

He picked up his own glass and drained it with a heavy breath.

"Kay--" he breathed again. "You're my captive audience. Where do you want me to start?"

-Tyler

Edited by Haman Karn: A Magical Girl
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IC: [Kohra - Po-koro, Streets]

 

“Okay…okay…”

 

With her momentary worries alleviated, the Vortixx stepped forward again, hesitant for just a moment, before eagerly beginning to drink from the fountain. In fact, for the next half minute or more, that was all she did, pausing only briefly to take a breath before eagerly drinking more. How long had she been without water before this?

 

She could only remember trying to move forward through the dark places, towards the light, no matter what.

 

Dayton could see the sheen in her eyes change a bit, as her awareness of her surroundings increased.

 

“Thank you…” she said again, still softly, but no longer as raspy. “This is..new. The whole village seems…bigger.”

 

OOC: @Tarn

 

 

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IC: Farzan (Tech Emporium)

"I admire your dedication to your craft, Jo" I remarked while he was perilously working the air-pump mechanism. No more dedication than putting yourself in the position of test dummy. I took his advice with the utmost seriousness, and climbed onto Kreff as the crab made sure to stand well back. My eyes were very much peeled, however, something the scopes whirring on my mask were a very clear indication of. That was undeniably one of their best features. Having binoculars with you everwhere you went made keeping "safe distance" was a very generous concept for me. 

OOC: @Perp

BZPRPG Profiles

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Akiri Nuparu Posts:

1. 2. ...

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IC: Datrox Karvan - Po-Koro - Streets

“You’re telling me.

Datrox looked up at the buildings, the walls, around the pair. He remembered the old Po-Koro. He remembered what now felt like a different time altogether. It was not nostalgia, just memories. “I barely recognize the place. But hey, it’s all in the name of progress, right?” 

He looked back to Kohra. She looked better, kind of. “I’m glad I could help out a little. Not really sure why I came here today in the first place, actually.” Datrox half-smiled. “Maybe it was some good luck we crossed paths.”

OOC: @Vezok's Friend

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[BZPRPG]
(shout out to max)

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IC: Dehkaz [Ostia Docks, Fowadi]

Dehkaz stepped into the cabin proper, leaning up against the bulkhead next to the door as Krayn cleared space with Dorian wrapped around him. He wasn't entirely sure how long the three toa had been conversing, but it was long enough for Skyra to get tipsy. He'd have to watch that. Ko-Koro had affected them all, and Krayn's shoulder wasn't the only thing still lingering. The toa of Magnetism motioned over to Luten's small projected form to join him, mostly to pull her away from the slightly inebriated Daring, and perhaps save Kale a headache later on.

"What happened down there?" He started, "As far as everyone else knew you died, along with Nimil and the necromancer. Did they make it out of the Mangai as well?"

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On 9/3/2021 at 5:20 PM, Emzee said:

“So, how have things been?” Ra’lhen asked with interest, “My sergeant has kept me in Ostia, preventing and aborting heists from pirates and other criminals. His caution is understandable, but it does mean that so much has happened that I simply wasn’t present for. Akiri Hewkii resigned, and this other leader, Akiri Lichtgheist, is someone I’ve never really met. Ko-Koro had a bad time, but now things are getting better, I’ve heard?”

“More importantly, where do you think things are headed… as far as peace on Mata Nui goes?” Ra’lhen asked.

IC Stannis | Po-Koro

A phantom pain stabbed at the Maru like a knife in his shoulder. He winced and touched where Eisen's bitterly sharp blade had slipped through his armor's pauldron and relaxed again only after confirming the absence of blood. He sighed, but it was even and methodical like every other breath the Wanderer took. "Ko-Koro is in the Matoran's hands again," he said slowly as though almost questioning the statement's veracity as he gave it. In truth, he wasn't sure. Ko-Koro's sanctity had waxed and waned constantly since before the Makuta's banishment, and countless dark-sided agents sought to control the icy castle city in a near childish constant struggle for domination of the highest point, a veritable game of King of the Hill that only succeeded at depressing the Matoran citizens who scraped a living there. 

Stannis had fought against almost all the fallen toa, he realized. Ronkshou and Vidar, then Heuani, Echelon, and finally Eisen, and each time they had gotten away from him at the last moments. He wanted to finish the task with the last opponent but Eisen had managed to stay faster than the Maru's laborious strokes and vanished into the Dark Walk with the rest of his host, an once the darkness swallowed them Stannis Maru could not pursue further. Not again, not yet. 

"Things are well for now, the Akiri seem content playing well with one another, the Matoran can rebuild again, and war seems a faraway possibility for the moment, but peace is still fraught with tragedy. Every time we beat the night away the daily cycle comes to a close again eventually. It's a law of equivalent exchange and there is always the looming terror on the horizon. But where is it headed?" he repeated rhetorically and looked at the sky for a second. "It's nighttime to the far west for now, but it is coming for us again. We can't stop it, but we can prepare ourselves to weather it. We as individuals and we as Matoran must be ready to survive our nights. We all do what we can, or we will fail."

It was a cryptic assessment, but the Wanderer was renown for his unerring predictions, some of which he said with intent and yet others that came from an ether he did not know. Fate unfolded wherever he went, and for better or worse it was prudent to listen. Few people put weight on his words, however, and his prophesies were shackled by his own self-doubts and inconsistencies. Whether he knew it or not, far to the west of Mata Nui the people of Kentoku had been forced to flee in the face of a shared enemy and come to Ga-Koro. Night had passed from Mata Nui to  the far off land and reports of the Dasaka arriving en masse had begun to seep into news outlets. Sightings of their flotilla had trickled in from Ostia, who's promontory on the coast afforded it views of the vast navy, but Stannis had not heard those rumblings yet. 

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IC:

Never fear, Dehkaz, I'm watching too. That's why I took the bottle from her reach. "Perhaps a little earlier?" I suggested, cutting back in to the conversation at hand. "After we were down at the ruins of Xa-Koro, when you split from the larger group? Might help me figure out what happened to Merror and Agni after I lost track of them as well."

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profiles i guess

i'm a south american giant otter now

 

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IC: [Kohra - Po-koro, Streets]

 

“Maybe…” the vortixx replied. She finally stopped drinking and stood up straight, only to -romp toy wince and double over again. Kohra heaved a deep breath, steadying herself.

 

“You’ve…been here before…?” She started to ask, then blinked and added. “What’s your name again?” 
 

OOC: @Tarn

 

 

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IC:

"Sure. Or we could start with meeting Joske. The Mark Bearers. Why not start with my childhood?" Dorian rolled his eyes. His restless left leg had begun to shake, foot vibrating against the headrest of Praggos' chair, heel striking the padding where the genius' head had started to wear upon the regal old leather. "After Xa-Koro..."

Why didn't you just tell me, Cael? I would have done anything for you. I was the same kind of idiot as him. I was your monster.

"I went back to Ta-Koro. Joske found me there and we made plans to follow Echelon." I kissed him. I wanted to kiss him so many times. I wish he would walk through the door right now so I could kiss him again. That was how people usually heralded another downward spiral in his life, wasn't it? Barging through the door uninvited? "I guess he still needed me for whatever he had in mind, but Joske didn't like sharing his plans - or wasn't good at explaining them. But I think he wanted someone else he was sure could handle Echelon. Or maybe he wanted someone to tell him that finishing Echelon himself was the right thing to do. I wasn't worried about it. Echelon wasn't the hardest fight I'd had in my life, and Joske..."

I wanted to protect him. He was my hero.

"...Joske had other plans. He needed to see Angelus, he needed to restock, so we split up and planned to leave Ta-Koro together. But I got attacked by Grokk, and after Grokk...went down, I tried to link up again with Joske. He'd left without me. So I followed him to Ko-Koro, wondering if he'd stop somewhere, wondering if there was a way we could link up. Idiot. Idiot! It would have been the easiest thing in the world, just use your Kakama and run back, idiot..."

The chair vibrated more intensely. The wood creaked mournfully on the Fowadi's deck.

"I don't know who got the drop on who," Dorian muttered, hand cradling his chin and fingers curling tightly into a fist beneath his Calix. "Joske, Echelon, whoever. But they were at the Temple of Peace, already fighting. Joske was losing - of course he was losing, why wouldn't he lose, he couldn't even light a match without..."

A bloodied, dinted lighter jingled on its chain, a slender silver locket on a neck that had grown painfully tense. Dorian's tendons were tauter than rope. It bobbed, and the lighter jingled again.

"I was two snowbanks -- three? -- back from the Temple. I had a clear shot on Echelon. I don't know if that was too far, if he had time to hear, or a, or a, or a Muaka or something, maybe it roared, I don't remember..."

Maybe you screamed. Maybe you laughed. Maybe you told a stupid joke. Maybe your own rambling was too loud in your own head.

Maybe there was blood, surging in your ears, and your brain shorted out at the thought of losing him.

"I fired at Echelon--"

The glass trembled in his hands. 

"--he was magnetic, I should have just remembered--"

A shaky breath hissed through his pearl teeth.

"--I didn't mean--"

Please believe me. I didn't mean to. I would have taken them for you.

And the glass slipped through prosthetic fingers that, for the first time in years, the Toa had lost all control of. He gulped in a breath, covering his eyes and temples to hide from the pity of the four Aggressors.

"Just ##### hand me the bottle, okay man?" he asked Praggos. "Please?" The Toa of Ice did so, and with his left hand - his trigger finger was still failing to respond - he cupped the decanter and took a long drink. A bourbon-colored tear ran from the corner of his mouth, down his throat, and pooled on the top of the locket.

"I buried him there. He's at the Temple of Peace, where nobody could touch him again. Echelon had already taken what he needed and left for the Vault, but I went to Ta-Koro. I wanted to...explain myself."

I'm forever ##### explaining myself.

"Merror and Agni were both there. I guess by then Utu was dead, huh? How'd it go? Did he suffer?" His throat bobbed again, and his leg was growing so increasingly erratic that the chair was starting to scuff the ground. "I hope not. Guess at least Joske didn't weigh as much as a Kane-Ra soaking wet, right? Probably sucked burying that tall glass of water."

I'm sorry I left you too, big guy.

You really were my friend.

"When I got there, Tuara had--"

By now, the tears were running freely, and he wiped them and drank with the same graceless motion. 

"--taken a hostage by the bridge. Her own brother. Come to find out, the two of them had...chopped a body. Someone one of them had killed, and scattered him across Ta-Koro. My Tuara." His teeth sank into his lip, attempting to cushion what was threatening to become an open, pathetic display of regret. "My Tuara. I keep asking who she could have learned a trick that gross from. It's so obvious, right? It's always been so obvious." 

My Tuara.

You made me want to grow old, firefly.

"She asked me to believe in her, but I...I couldn't. The Guard was on one side, she was on the other, and I just...I just wanted to get to the Vault. I tried to explain, but...she didn't even care. Maybe she was beyond caring. After all we've all been through, I don't blame her. Any of you? Blame her?" He gulped down another glass' worth of bourbon in a swallow, beginning to long for the days when this stuff was proving hazardous to his health. "By then, I was starting to worry that Echelon would get to the Vault. He had to be closing in, and I just...there was no time to explain about Joske, or the Vault, any of it. I couldn't even apologize. I wanted to, so so bad. Before someone..."

Dug him up and saw the holes.

"Heuani," he whispered. "That was the hardest fight of my life. Any of you ever fought something that dominant? Not something stronger than you, not smarter, but...dominant, like you would enjoy the way he beat you. Broke you. You're fighting two killers at the same time. I remember fighting so hard, and I remember really, really thinking how much I didn't want to die. Not there. Not in that cesspool." His right hand had returned to him, and he wrapped both hands numbly around the bottle the way he had wrapped himself over Joske's bleeding form, nurturing it, begging its forgiveness for draining them both dry. "Ever since Mangaia, I've been dreaming that I'm back there. But this time I die. And after that, everyone..."

Everyone goes on just fine without me.

When else is a good time to die?

With you, Joske. That would have been perfect. I wanted to be dead with you.

That's the only reason I went.

"So I just went to the Vault. Alone. Joske never made it." Two-handed, he lifted the bottle up and tilted his head back with his longest drink yet. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes, and down the ridges of his Calix. "Like I said, Echelon. Not the hardest fight. It's pretty easy when you don't care about your own life, really, you just have to give as good as you get. I put as many bullets into him as I did Joske, I think. I don't really remember t-that much." He was starting to talk around the bottle, words blowing little whirlpools into the alcohol that was keeping him from breaking. "B-But I remember...the Vault...I stabbed him...and when I did it opened the..."

His foot was kicking the chair now, like a convulsing body, the way Heuani must have choked the life from Cael - a long, powerful limb in an ungraceful death throe, kicking the chair and dragging marks into the floor. His other foot was twirling around the strap of his canvas bag, the lone anchor and chain between Dorian Shaddix and shooting off into madness. 

"He was inside," the would-be hero whispered hoarsely, his apology a garbled mouthful of whiskey and tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so ##### sorry."
 

Why did you want it open, Joske? 

You had to have known.

"I j-just wanted to do something right."


-Tyler

Edited by Haman Karn: A Magical Girl
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IC Luten - Fowadi

She crept forward, and placed a tiny hand on the Fe-Toa. She didn't really know any of the people in the story he told, but she knew what losing someone was like.

She didn't havethe right words for the stranger, what words could she offer to someone she didn't even know the name of?

"I'll bet your friend would be really proud of you, mister!" Was all she said, with a kind smile and a soft glow of her tiny crystalline body.

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Kale Ironshaper - Po-wahi - Ostia - Fowadi

IC: "I didn't grow up in a koro the same as everyone else. That might be why the death of the Turaga never hit me the same way it hit everyone else.I never grew to love them the same way those that they guided through an eon of darkness did. But I could see the way it impacted everyone else. It was like a piece of the island died that week. In bits and pieces as they news came in from everywhere else. It was like seeing the souls of all my friends be ripped away in bloody chunks."

The Fe-Toa paused for a moment at an intersection. Memories almost visibly passing in front of his eyes as he patted the solid wood of the Fowadi. A small smile crossing his face and banishing the dark memories.

"So I stayed on. Someone had to stand up and keep back the darkness. The Aggressors could travel the entire island. Go where was needed, fight Makuta and his servants wherever they appeared. It was the best fit for someone like me." He looked over at the older woman with a wider smile and gestured for her to follow him down the hallway to the ready room. "That's what we do here. Find evil and punch it in the face as many times as needed before it decides that we're too much trouble to deal with."

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"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

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IC:

The Toa of Iron looked at the helping hand with undisguised incredulity; amid all the horrors of his life, those he'd done and watched, said and left unsaid, somehow the universe had still found a little talking Kanohi that could surprise him. Dumbstruck, his face broke into a grin, then a stifled giggle.

"What the heck are you supposed to be?" he asked, touching the miniscule hand with a trembling finger. He laughed louder, fresh tears spilling from his eyes, but when his face contorted to chuckle they rolled harmlessly down his cheeks and off his face. His next words left him in the same breathless whisper that had left him as he died: "Aww, you're adorable."

For a few seconds, Dorian Shaddix sat there, being cradled by a tiny, talking Kanohi, regaining the strength to live. 

When the spell broke, he tickled the hand lightly and slumped back against the liquor cabinet.

"I woke up outside Kini-Nui, in an old man's arms," he continued. "Like I said, I don't remember much...but I remember Merror. He was there with me, when M-Ma...when the darkness came out of the Vault. Next thing I remember, he's holding me outside Kini-Nui a few feet smaller. I can fill in the blanks of what he must've done." He let out a long, shaky breath, and put on his weakest facsimile yet of his classic indifference.

"I wish I'd known it was so hard to die. I w-woulda charged a lot more to kill people."

-Tyler 

Edited by Haman Karn: A Magical Girl
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SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC: Datrox Karvan - Po-Koro - Streets

He cocked his head to one side in curiosity. Had she forgotten his name already, or did she think they had met before? He was certain they had not, but when you spend most of your life back and forth between Koros your memory eventually has trouble keeping everything straight.

“Datrox. Well, Datrox Karvan but I don’t give out the full name as often now. Most people just reply ‘who?’ so it doesn’t have much effect.”

The Ta-Toa gently placed a hand on the Vortixx’s shoulder to try and help keep her steady. Even after quenching her thirst she still seemed broken, and Datrox was beginning to remember he wasn’t very good at fixing people. “You wouldn’t know me. Nobody knows me. Just the way it is when you can’t keep your feet in one place for too long—hard to be social.”

He paused, and his hand started to slip off her shoulder. The expression on his Huna became distant.

“But as long as people remember you in the first place, I guess the name they remember you by doesn’t matter.”

Datrox was suddenly focused again, now looking concerned as ever. “You have somewhere to stay? Or are you more like…me.”

OOC: @Vezok's Friend

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galijump.gif.f3271eeb2e5fad0ab8397c83797b5bba.gif
[BZPRPG]
(shout out to max)

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IC: [Kohra - Po-koro, Streets]

 

“Like…you?”

 

Datrox. Karvan. Right. He had said that before. He must have, right? Had she forgotten already?

 

“Well, I had…no.” She replied. “I…don’t have anywhere.”

 

“Maybe…if someone knew me…maybe they’d remember.” She continued, but then shook her head. “But, maybe that’s…not a good thing.”

 

Something had drawn her here into the desert, some memory, or a half-remembered dream of a memory rather. But it wasn’t a happy one, she felt.

OOC: @Tarn

 

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Lillith.thumb.png.4ea877d95fad8df467748273ab43bc36.png

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IC: Ember - Ostia, deck of the Fowadi

A grin spread across her face for the third time that day -  a record high. Turns out that this trip was a good idea after all, even if Po-Wahi was too arid for her taste.

“A noble goal, aye. I could get behin’ that any day o’ the week. An’ it seems like there’ll be a might bit o’ fightin in the months ahead…”

She stopped for a moment behind Kale, letting her eyes adjust to the dim, lightstone-lit cabins and corridors of the Fowadi - much, much larger than she was used to.

“Cannae tell if I’m jus’ short or the vaessels I dun serv’d ‘board were made fer Matoran.”

 

___ __ _

 

IC: Jokaro - Po-Koro, Technology Emporium

Nodding as Farzan complied and stood back, Jokaro steeled himself for what was next. He took a deep breath, praying he wasn’t going to end up in the hospital that day.

“Patero, uh… V2? Yeah, V2 Patero prototype test firing… three, two, one…”

THWUMPSHHH

Well, he wasn’t dead, and the launcher had worked, releasing its air normally without anything flying apart. A small victory, but the next test would be the kicker.

“How about that?” he chortled to himself, weighing the launcher in his hands. Definitely lighter, and the position of the pump would be more ergonomic once the form of the handle itself was modified. Recoil was more significant, but that was mostly due to the lack of a stock or even the pumphandle to brace himself on - something he could test later.

Loosening up the clamps holding the breech closed, he slid the metal cover aside and bent down to reach into his pack, retrieving one of the more reliable munitions he’d carried with him on his grand tour - a smooth sphere of wood, perfectly sized to fit the interior diameter of the patero barrel snugly. He loaded it into the breech before sliding the cover closed and tightening the clamps again best he could.

With the launcher now loaded, he dared not stare down the barrel as he pumped it this time, electing to, instead, awkwardly pump it from the intended position with this upgrade, only made so due to the perpendicular nature of the handle to the vector of the launcher itself.

Eventually, the launcher’s bladder was primed all the way, and he once again called out when he was ready:

“V2 Patero prototype test firing - live munitions! Three, two, one-”

CHHPOOMPHSHHHHH

Jokaro was thrown off his feet as the overpressured barrel failed at the breech and exploded, bits of the haphazard trigger mechanism tossed across the room.

Ow…

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IC:

One arm wrapped around Dorian's shoulders, the other handed him the requested bottle. He'd buy Praggos a new one later, but right now it was going towards a greater cause. It was a lot to unpack. Krayn picked his own glass back up and downed the remainder while he wordlessly offered the best support he could to someone who, not that long ago, had been one of half a dozen or so reasons for the second worst day of his life. 

But for how long ago that had really been it felt longer. Even if it hadn't it paled, and so did everything else, with the confirmation that Makuta really was back. And with that came anger and a sense of betrayal. Not at Dorian, or at the late Nimil, or even really at the deceased Necromancer. The last was responsible, of course, but there was no use being angry at a dead monster for being what it was. No, his anger was reserved for the people who had decreed, to the word, "Makuta was gone."

"I think," He said after a moment. "That kicking the daylights out of a Maru for some answers might make me feel better. Anyone in?"

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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Kale Ironshaper - Po-wahi - Ostia - Fowadi

IC: "Probably the latter. A major part of our first refit was to rework the internals into something that could comfortably hold a crew of something other than Matoran. This latest refit was because we just kept finding new toys that we wanted to add and they all piled up until we had the time to properly work them into the design. By the time things settled down after Ko-koro there was so much new equipment on the list that it was easier to just rip everything out and put in better versions."

They reached the end of the hallway and Kale opened a door on one side of the hall. It wasn't a massive room. Even on the Fowadi space was at a premium. The place was big enough for a fair number of people to stand comfortably within however. Rubber sealed chests lined the floor and walls. Some of them had names stenciled onto the hardwood planks. Others were blank. Presumably awaiting future members of the team.

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"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

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