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Hafu and Kamen on Metru Nui - a short story


TahnokTrapper

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Hafu looked incredulously at the tall brown figure at the entrance. At first, he thought his optical sensors were playing a trick on him. He shook his head, but the figure remained. A Toa! A Toa of Stone, no less! Hafu thought he’d never see one in Metru Nui again. His feeling of joyous surprise wouldn’t last long, however. The Toa had spotted him. And he seemed especially angry with Hafu.

“Ahkmou!”

Hafu was startled.

“There you are you foolish little Sand Snipe. Where did you hide the disk?”

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about Toa,” stuttered Hafu. To his relief, the Toa no longer glared at him. Instead, his expression was that of confusion.

“You… don’t sound like him,” said the Toa.

“It’s the mask, isn’t it?” replied Hafu, annoyed that it had happened again. Ahkmou and him wore the same mask. It wasn’t uncommon for Matoran to spot a Rau-wielder, assume it’s Ahkmou and start verbally assaulting what they thought was the slimy carver. Then they’d hear Hafu’s voice and rush to apologise. It seemed now that not even Toa were capable of telling them apart.

“Do you know where he is?” asked the Toa. He didn’t even bother to apologise.

“I wish I knew that myself!” answered Hafu. “He’s been falling behind on his work. Keeps talking about a secret that is going to make him the most famous carver in Po-Metru!”

The Toa looked at Hafu, intrigued. Hafu continued.

“Last time I saw him, he was meeting with two big… beings… not Matoran, not even Toa! One was really huge; the other was on four legs. Ahkmou looked really nervous, too. After they left, he headed for the warehouse.”

The Toa pondered briefly, a semblance of worry and intrigue flashing across his Great Mask.

“Thank you,” he said at last and headed towards the warehouse himself. Hafu looked as he left, still mesmerised by the sight of a Toa in Po-Metru. And still upset at the fact he mistook him for Ahkmou.

He thought he heard footstep to his right. He turned and saw a familiar brown Mahiki in front of him. It was Kamen, Hafu’s friend and co-worker. He too seemed to be mesmerised by the sight of a Toa.

“Was that…?”

“I think it was, Kamen.”

“Incredible.” Kamen’s voice was filled with awe.

“Indeed.” Hafu’s voice, on the other hand, wasn’t. Kamen took notice.

“Something wrong?”

Hafu huffed, ready to erupt. “He thought I was Ahkmou! Can you believe it? Not even a Toa can tell the difference between us!”

Kamen looked confused for a moment. Then he chuckled.

“Don’t laugh, you dust-covered Brakas! There’s nothing funny about being constantly confused for that miserable worm!”

Kamen chuckled some more. “Come on, Hafu,” he said, “it’s a little funny”.

Hafu was still fuming. “We’ll see if they’ll still confuse us once I throw a Recon disk at him.”

“DON’T!”

Kamen threw his arm around Hafu’s mouth. Disk Duels were highly illegal, even suggesting to get involved in one was sufficient grounds for arrest. The two Matoran stood silent for a moment, keeping an eye for the Zadakh. After enough time had passed, Kamen released his grip.

“You shall do no such thing,” he said sternly. Hafu did not dare reply.

“Besides,” he continued in a slightly softer tone, “if it bothers you that much, get a Kanohi change. Vakama could probably make you a new one.”

Hafu scoffed. “What, Nuhrii’s former apprentice? I’m not getting a mask from that worthless forge-cleaner!”

Kamen shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said and turned back towards the warehouse. He hoped to get another look at the Toa.

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These are fun little tales here, I definitely cracked a grin here and there. I enjoy that the humor in the form of the running gag on poor Hafu is also a joke that leverages technicalities in the storylines and sets - that is, uniformity in Matoran builds from era to era, and social repercussions of changing your mask. Clever and succinctly executed - well done :)

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(disclaimer: none of this banner art is original, I just smooshed it together in gimp. Torchic, Matau)
ThosePeskyFirespitters.png.3dbdb65e6a28cbbc5957d81c09a685b6.png
Those pesky firespitters... 
Library | The Sculptors and the Smelters | The Ternion Review Topic 

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