BZPRPG - Po-Wahi

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Meanwhile, back in Droughtville.

 

Tuara stood off to the side, away from Agni, Cael and Merror; they were all clearly acquainted with each other from previous adventures, and even after her conversation with Joske it looked like she was still a little awkward around the people she'd left behind last go around. One half self-consciously wrapped around the back of her neck, one foot balancing more weight than the other, she was in the typical self-conscious hot girl pose that she struck up so well at this point. From this angle she must have been staring at the way Joske and Stannis had gone, waiting for the two Toa to return from their pilgrimage. There was a twitch of movement from the entrance--

 

--and two tattooed arms slipped underneath hers and wrapped around Tuara's ribs, lifting her up from behind as I laughed at the sudden, surprised jolt her body made when I hefted her up.

 

Tuara's legs kicked up as her face lit up with surprise, "Shaddix!"

 

"Drigton!" I yelled back as I spun her around like pizza dough in my hands, catching her after she'd turned about 180 degrees and holding her up so that she was looking down into my eyes, elevated a couple inches above me. I winked and she smiled; together we pulled into a kiss and then slowly her feet descended back towards the ground again and stopped before they could touch. Her arms slinked around my neck in search of a hold, and so we held - two screwed up kids in an even more screwed up environment than before, but somehow all the better for it. I stole another quick kiss and then half-smiled at Tuara.

 

"So," she asked with a nudge of her elbow against my ribs, "what were you and Cael talking about?"

 

"You," I replied innocently, "and how you're always asking incessant questions about every little move I make."

 

She blinked twice and I started laughing again.

 

"You," I repeated truthfully in the same youthful chirp as I leaned in to steal a kiss, "and how much I love you."

 

-Tyler

Edited June 14, 2013 by Dallas Winston

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

[Temple of Creation, Motara Desert - evening]

 

"Alright kids, break it up."

 

Somehow I was not surprised to see them doing that as Stannis and myself strode out of the Temple... it's something I would do, and from the brief time I'd been introduced to Dorian we had a remarkably similar streak - albeit differing sensibilities. Still, there was something between them, something that wasn't there between Angelus and Tuara; a spark of passion and possible actual romance, not the cheap-momentary-you're-pretty-let's-go-out flirt.

 

Maybe. We'll see.

 

The suddenness of our exit coupled with my mild command was enough to slightly startle them, enough so that Tuara was dropped the half-inch to the ground. I snickered quietly as I strode past them, giving Dorian a wink. "Oops, sorry... were you two in the middle of something?"

 

My voice betrayed innocent absentmindedness, the kind that hinted that I had genuinely accidentally done that. Which of course was a lie, I did that COMPLETELY on purpose, but hey... what were friends for? Without even a pause I continued past them, taking a perch on a nearby rock, surveying the desert.

 

"Considering how long it took us to get here, we'll won't make it back before nightfall, and while I have every confident on our survival prowess I would rather not risk the unexpected, especially at night. Particularly in the sandy wastelands we affectionately call the Motara Desert." As if to punctuate my musings the sun was beginning to set in the distance, a spectacular array of reds, oranges, and even dashes of purple beginning to stretch across the horizon. "I say we spend the night here under the cover of the temple and head back at first light. Unless there are any objections?"

 

Granted, one of us had a Kulasi, another had a Kakama, but that wasn't enough to go around, let alone try to find and remember a way home via trial-and-error, and Stannis' small nod was enough support for me an my suggestion. Without any further prompting our little party began to set up a small camp at the mouth of the temple, pooling what supplies we had. I don't think we planned on an over-nighter, but with my supplies I had bought earlier that day - and Agni's seemingly magical sense of being able to predict the next three days and the resources needed - we had more than enough to be comfortable for the night. That's the one thing he never taught me: his sixth-sense of prediction. Greedy Toa, keeping all the good knowledge form himself. One day I'll squeeze it out of him.

 

One day.

 

As we set up, the group getting more comfortable with each other and making small talk, I sauntered by Cael, my arms full with canvas, but wasn't enough to require the use of my fingers - to which I put to good use, giving her a slight poke as she was bending over taking stock of out water and food supplies.

 

To her credit she didn't flinch; somewhere between my gentleness of the action and the fact she was used to things like that. But that didn't prevent her from after a moment standing up straight in a very womanly way and, while not moving her head, sliding her eyes over in my direction, a dangerous playfulness in them.

 

"I hope you have a very good reason for doing that."

 

"Kinda." I said quietly so that only she could hear, "On the trek in I spotted something not to far from here, something I think you and me should check out. If you're not busy tonight... and want to have a little fun... meet me on the other side of this small mountain tonight after the stars have come out in full. That is, unless you're too afraid to go out at night."

 

My blue eyes danced, and from Cael's experience I knew she could read them perfectly. Not to say my plan for this evening was anything wrong per say, but it was one of those ideas that if went horribly wrong or got caught, it would mean a heap of trouble for the two of us.

 

But that was the fun part of an adventure, right?

 

Before she could reply or do anything I walked away, helping Merror finish setting up a temporary shelter as we began to settle in for the night.

Edited June 15, 2013 by Friar Tuck

[otter]

IC-Beosach:

 

"Komae, you know me. That's too easy!" the weaponsmith replied, grabbing his items and placing them up on the pier, before crawling out and getting up there himself. A moment of shaking, getting most of the water off of his body, and he picked his pack up again and walked over by Komae.

 

"So, anyways, I have those widgets you forgot to make me give you yesterday."

[Palm]

IC: Tuara Drigton - Po-WahiSitting next to Dorian at the now lit fire, Tuara was cross-legged, hunching over, with one hand on her chin to support it. She stared at the swirling flames absentmindedly, flicking some of the hot tips around with her mind. The sun had begun to set, and the heat would soon leave the region entirely, little to no cloud cover to keep the heat in. It was quiet. The sleeping arrangements were taken care of, and the group had begun to settle in against the temple, "What do you think," she asked quietly."Bout what?"Tuara turned her head in Dorian's direction, staring at the cracked earth, "This whole situation," she spoke quietly as not to let others in on the conversation, "You know Utu better than anybody," Tuara looked up into Dorian's eyes, "Do you think Joske can do what he says."

Edited June 15, 2013 by snoip lion

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Why not? I mean, one look into those soulful blue eyes and I had half a mind to build a church right there in the Mahi pen," I growled coyly, staring into the fire and willing the coals with my eyes even though they weren't listening to me like they were Tuara.

 

"He's a lot to handle," she replied simply.

 

"Look, what I know is that I spent every day with Utu for the better part of a year. I know that in that time I did a lot of really stuff, but I know that I had a reason for it in the end. Because, I mean...if you do bad for a good reason, then in the end it'll even out over the course of time, even if it takes more time to even out than you have to watch it happen. People need a guy like that - like me - to do the bad so that in the end the good things will end up getting done. That was my reason; in the end the things I did for that will balance out, even if I won't be around to see it happen. That's what I know. What I think...I think that I looked into Utu's eyes, and they were just this opaque blue. I tried dozens of times - hundreds of times - and I could never find a reason in there. At his best moments and his worst moments, it was like staring into snowbanks and expecting to see the water that they're made out of. Maybe Jos saw something, maybe he didn't. I wouldn't put it past him if he did. But...I looked for a year, you know? And I couldn't find a reason, besides the fact that he wanted to do it.""So what do you wanna do?"

 

"Well, I'm gonna have to follow Jos, obviously. Like I'm supposed to."

-Tyler

[25K Now!]

IC: Prei

 

Walking around is surprisingly relaxing, although I did not expect to run into Maxiam Kilanewb again.

 

"Hello," I said, giving the other guard a nod.

[Athmos]

OOC: SO SORRY HUBERT. I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON FOR EVERYTHING.

 

 

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

Maxiam nodded at Doughnut Guy. "Doughnut Guy, what are you up to?" he asked, preforming a quick to the rear, and walked alongside him.

[25K Now!]

IC: Prei

 

Is it that hard to remember my name?

 

"Walking," I reply.

[GSR]

IC: Komae

 

The trader smiled. "Oh, thanks! It was pretty silly of me to forget all about the widgets after all that haggling, wasn't it?" He patted the weaponsmith on the shoulder affectionately. "So, while you sort those out, which way's our boat? Any good trading rig casts off early, after all, and I'd hate to miss the boat."

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

I stood a little ways away from the camp, standing atop a dune, feeling the days heat vanish rapidly to give way to the bitter cold of the night. I raised a hand over my eyes to shield them against the low sun and squinted my eyes, scanning the horizon. It was just out of habit; I doubted there was anything coming for us in the night here. Although, I preferred the Wahi during daytime. The warmth was easy to operate in, it felt natural, almost neutral, even though it was a different heat than the one I was used to. The others...they probably preferred these golden hours of daytime here, when the sky faded through the purple and orange-red hues. Not too warm and not too cold yet, either.

 

 

It was a pretty sight, but I only registered that partially. I was pondering the days events, lost in thoughts, for which I blamed Joske. The kid had that effect. You set out to do a serious job and before you know it you're waxing philosophy in the desert. I could feel the grin at my own emotional state tugging at the corners of my mouth; then drew in a deep breath of the still-warm air and let it out with a soft sigh. Today had been the first day in 3 months that I'd broken away from my routine. And I felt it.

 

 

I needed to take my mind off of things. Easier said than done, but that's why you have people to talk to. And so I turned from my vantage point and walked back to the camp, where I found Merror, also by himself. As he heard my footsteps approach he looked up. We acknowledged each other with a nod.

 

 

"So, here we are." I said. "One Toa Maru, two veterans and two pairs of star-crossed lovers. What do you think?"

[Ghosthands]

IC (Merror)

 

Merror had taken charge of rigging up a few breakwinds and such around the Temple's entrance using what canvas and rope they had with them, and by nightfall they had a relatively comfortable camp set up. As the couples drew together as though magnetised, and Stannis was off somewhere (probably talking with Lekua), Merror sat alone on a nearby rock, keeping watch on the night.

 

Looking up as Agni approached, he returned the Toa's nod, glad to have his fellow Toa of Fire's company.

 

"So, here we are," Agni said. "One Toa Maru, two veterans and two pairs of star-crossed lovers. What do you think?"

 

"What do I think?" Merror replied. "I think that by the end of the week, we'll all either be inseparable or insane."

 

He laughed briefly and dropped off the rock to his feet, his eyes casually scanning the dark and empty desert.

 

"It's odd...there's not a single Toa here that I don't know in some way, and yet I'm barely acquainted with any of them," he said. He turned back to face Agni. "Joske and Cael, of course, I met back in Ga-Koro; I know you and Tuara by your reputations among the Guard; Dorian was part of that Mark business, which I and my team witnessed; and I doubt anyone on this island hasn't heard of Stannis."

 

He chuckled.

 

"The Le-Koro theatres would call it an all-star cast."

Edited June 16, 2013 by Ghosthands

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"I didn't notice." Maxiam said dryly.

[25K Now!]

IC: Prei

 

I shrug.

 

"Eh."

[Eyru]

IC (Cael)

 

The camp had been set up; the group was full of experienced travellers and adventurers, and as such they had little trouble erecting a place to spend the night comfortably, even in the middle of the desert. A fire crackled cheerfully in the centre of camp, shielded by breakwinds and fed by cacti that Agni and Merror had dried out. The wood snapped and popped occasionally, the only noise in an otherwise still night. Bright orange sparks drifted lazily through the air, higher and higher until they were lost among the stars.

 

The stars, dizzying in their number, burned brightly in a sky as black as pitch, twinkling jewels sewn onto an immense cloak that draped over the desert. The sunset had been as beautiful as the sunrise, but now night had fallen, and the sky belonged to the stars and the half-full moon, shining milky-white.

 

Cael sat by the fire, wrapped in a dark blue cloak, letting the heat of the flames wash over her body. Distantly, she could hear Merro and Agni talking off to one side of camp; Dorian and Tuara sat at the same fire, but were absorbed in their own quiet conversation. Joske was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected.

 

The healer looked up; her eyes were full of constellations. The stars had come out in full; it was time to meet her Toa of Fire out in the desert. She had no idea what the rascal had cooked up this time, but if it was anything consistent with his usual schemes, it was likely something she would half-regret getting into.

 

Those adventures were the best kind, though; it wouldn't be fun if it wasn't slightly crazy. Joske, if nothing else, had taught the Toa of Water to appreciate the unexpected. You had to, with Joske, or you wouldn't survive long. His was a world of surprises.

 

Standing, Cael bid Tuara and Dor good night before retreating from the light, her footsteps shuffling quietly in the sand as she made for the dunes that lay close by. Soon, her form was swallowed by the night, leaving her to make her way by the light of the stars and the moon.

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"Did you want something or....?"

[Eyru]

IC (Greed)

 

A sudden breeze sprang up at the entrance of the cave, scattering the sand. A figure appeared from nowhere, silhouetted against the light outside. He looked weatherbeaten: his clothing was worn and faded, and marked by dirt and old blood. A long blade hung from his belt, and a tattered, dark green scarf hid his mouth. He peered into the darkness of the cave, scarlet eyes glowing, but seeing nothing. It was black as pitch.

 

The darkness was his friend.

 

He moved out of the sun, stepping into the cool, dank cavern. The night swallowed him up, save for his eyes, which still burned crimson. His footsteps scuffled softly on the stone; he made no attempt to conceal his presence. There was nothing here to fear.

 

 

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

I smiled slightly and then slowly sat down besides Merror. "The Le-Koro theatres would call it an all-star cast." he said. I shrugged.

 

 

"Maybe."

 

 

There was a moment of silence in which we both just gazed over the Motara stretching out in front of us. This far north on the Island and with no jungle or mountains to obstruct the view, we could almost see the entire horizon.

While the sky overhead was the darkest blue blue and glistening with stars, there was still a minimal hint of orange, far, far in the west.

 

After several seconds I asked: "So, if we are the cast, what is your role in this play?"

[25K Now!]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"Did you want something or....?"

IC: Prei

 

What exactly did I want?

 

I did not know.

 

"I felt like talking."

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"Everybody feels like talking, it's just the matter what they want to talk about that's the problem."

[Void Emissary]

OOC: So...Stendhal is Santa Claus now?

 

IC:

 

Factually speaking, no one should be able to teleport into solid rock. The mechanics of a Kualsi imply the clear view of the sought-after destination in order to "quick-travel" -- even the dimmest toddler could tell you that, with the sharpest being able to scribble out the mathematical formula describing the phenomenon, too. As a representative of the scientific law-abiding community, I refuse to believe anything which would contradict this simple priniciple.

 

So ##### you, Stendhal, for going off and vanishing into a stone construct. Seriously, ##### you. Honestly, I'm not sure what I was more angry about; that my stalker was escaping and probably leading me into a trap, or that he had broken one of the principal laws of Kanohi mechanics while doing so.

 

What a prick.

 

However, as much as my spirit raged and roared against my adversary, my outward demeanour never wavered. My face and frame were just as stoic and unyielding as the element they embodied -- ironically, since there wasn't anyone around to see if I decided to just break down into hysterics. Still, we all have to keep a strong act for the universe, don't we?

 

It was easy enough to follow Stendhal's path up the side of the spire -- it sloped into an almost razor-thin talon of a finger, pointing towards the sky as if in defiance of the utterly horizontal landscape surrounding it. Only the barest amounts of concentration and elemental tinkering were required to scale its face, and within moments I was standing were Goldenrod McSociopath had and gone and done the impossible.

 

Only he hadn't.

 

An illusion, made from my own element -- or the lack of it, rather. I had peeked behind the magician's curtain and found the secret of the act; in this case, a deep hole burrowing straight down into the rock, maybe even the earth below. It was constricted, but definitely large enough for a Kualsi-bearer to visualize an end-point.

 

A chuckle escaped my lips, despite myself.

 

Even Stendhal couldn't beat the universe.

 

The hole was too small to crawl down, but being the trained elementalist that I was, it wasn't difficult to whittle down the stone walls, allowing passage. Sand tumbled down the black maw like a miniature waterfall, and I silently prayed that Stendhal would find himself in the middle of it. A plate of rock then manifested over the portal, fitted to a little less than the diameter of the tunnel itself, blocking my view into the dusty depths. I climbed up onto it, and willed the make-shift elevator down.

 

Soon enough, stone and shadow engulfed me.

 

-Void

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

"Dead."

The word was muttered and low so it would not be heard as I took two steps back, letting the pillar I had made, a pliable little hunk of iron that was the closest thing I'd get to a punching bag, turn to dust from the bottom up and carry through the desert breeze into the sand dunes around us. Another popped up from the southwest, directly behind me and to the left, so I spun around with a kick, high and heel-first, into the upper third and then followed up with a deep stab into the opposite side with the Protosteel butterfly knife I was practicing with this particular evening.

"Dead."

Tuara was half dozed off against the temple, still conscious enough to keep the fire licking away at the desert chill but not enough to do much else. Joske and Cael had disappeared and I was too preoccupied to plot about returning the favor Joske had done me earlier by interrupting my girl and I. Merror and Agni sat and talked amongst themselves, the old crows on their perches as the young cardinals went about their business. For now it was only me--

"Dead."

And my punching bags.

Stannis had vanished into the temple's darkness a while before and had just come back out, a lighstone in his hand and the typically blank mood about him, the kind he always carried when he found something that only he found interesting on some ethereal level. He looked around at the lazy scene that greeted him in the nighttime desert and chose his company. Tuara was tending the fire in her daze; hardly fit for conversation. Agni and Merror weren't Stannis' type; he was not feeling like starting with a chat about destiny and suddenly be swamped with old guy chatter. That left Dorian.

For a moment Stannis just watched the young toa make short work of the constructs and observed the talented strikes of fine-tuned athleticism. Then, having seen it enough, he stepped down from the temple doorway and towards Dorian.

"You practice a lot?" he asked him as he came up from the side.

Suddenly and deliberately I performed a grounded little pirouette, slipping my right foot back as I turned to face Stannis; behind me there was a little kick of desert wind, plumes of sand and iron brushing behind me and flickering out in the slowly darkening night.

"From the time the first stars start to blink out, up until dawn," I answered. "And then I start again exactly sixteen hours after that."

Behind both of us, two pillars popped up behind my back and I casually drew a knife from the neck of my shirt and spun it around in my hand in the time it took Stannis to blink. Before his newly opened eyes the constructs weakened and fell to dust, both knives clattering to the ground and sticking handle up in the sands.

"You're the Maru," I continued as I looked at him. Stannis was of noble visage, with strong cheeks, jaw and musculature, but they took a backseat to those eyes - grey, spectral eyes that seemed to glow only off the light of prophecy. "The one they call the Wanderer."

"And you're the Shaddix," Stannis threw back. "The one they call the dapper duelist. It seems we have titles bereft behooving our positions... but I know those are not all we are meant to be. Titles and monikers are just things people give us but we can be the champions of our own lives." Stannis' blank grey eyes were like little clouds in the distance, opaque and mysterious with the eyes of God staring through them into the mortal world.

"What do you think you've made yourself to be?" Stannis asked like a high priest giving a test before granting a benediction and not seeming impressed with Dorian's very gymnastic performance.

"I could give you all my titles but in the end all you'd have gathered was the name Dorian Shaddix and a lot of pretty adjectives," I said. "I know what I'm going to be, in the end. Whatever names I pick up from people along the way are immaterial at best. At worst...they're inconvenient."

My gaze drifted back to the structure and pored over every inch of the architecture, taking it in even though I had no reason to. The aesthetics gave me peace, helped balance out the scales of my mind; in its eye I could see the butterfly knives I wielded on one scale, while its counterpart was occupied by a scale representation of the Temple.

"You, on the other hand, are said to be gifted with foresight so powerful that half the time you can't even see what's right in front of you. Now, do I believe that? No. But these things just demonstrate the power of subjectivity versus objectivity, isn't it? You have to balance out what you think with what you know, and create your own truth somewhere in the grey. For example. Three months ago, I save Tuara from a Rahkshi troop, and in the process I suffer massive internal injuries and slip into catatonia. I wake up, and Makuta's gone, along with his most infamous lieutenant and his otherworldly weapon. No trace of any of them, and the people who do know - the people who guard the knowledge of what happened inside that temple - aren't saying a word. So now I have to balance out what I think happened with what I know happened, and then it falls to me to conclude for myself: did you do the right thing? You see, Stannis. Questions like these can lead you in circles quicker than you think."

Stannis considered Dorian's philosophical waxing for an instant before slanting his head a little and asking simply, "So what do you think?"

 

"I think you did it, and that they're really gone," I said bluntly, stretching backwards with my arms raised at chest level, feeling my spine slowly pop one, two, three, four times. "But I know what I know, and whether you want to confirm it, deny it, whatever, something happened down there. I can feel that. I can feel the difference, even now, right here, standing across from you. Like this island's not the same as it was before, and not exactly for the better."

"I know," Stannis said, admitting the imperfection of his actions. "But there are always demons in the night, and no matter how thoroughly you banish the most apparent one there will spring a new one to take its place eventually. That is the natural balance of things. I played a key part in keeping that balance and plan to continue doing that for years to come. That natural balance is all we can hope for when we realize running away from them -- those demons that plague us -- does us no favours."

Stannis could see Dorian's character before him objectively then, not just rely on the words he'd heard about him in the past. There were lots of things, adjectivial phrases even, said on the young toa of iron that had slipped to the prophet's ears: Supposed assassin of a turaga, mercenary extraordinaire, Mark Bearer of unbound anger, broken record of lovelessness... And while there were few relations between Duelist and Wanderer Stannis could still feel a slight pang of familiarity in him. After all, Dorian had never stopped moving, just like Stannis had, but Dorian also spent many days running away from those demons only to unwittingly rile up the nest of some new predator. But things changed, happened: Dorian stopped running. He started wandering.

"I feel you're not a man of faith, Dorian, but it should be no surprise to you that I am. Perhaps that is the biggest difference between us, because I don't have to know or understand things to accept them or act on them. I'm called The Wanderer because that is what I do, I meander ahead into forbidden territory to find and vanquish those demons, wherever God wills me to go. I know things will never be as I want them to be, but I can at least cope with the understanding that it's all according to some plan. Whatever is broken is fixed eventually. I feel that rebound is what destiny has in mind for you."

"Rebound, huh."

I sat down on the dune, perched atop it like a bird and looking up at Stannis, one knife each embedded in the desert beside its corresponding hand. It afforded no real warmth, as the sun had long disappeared by now, but there was a comfort to the makeshift seat nonetheless as I shared eye contact with the Toa Maru of Stone. I did not comb for secrets in his eyes, for had I found any they probably would have been retaken by the quicksilver colored fog of his prophetic gaze. In that moment, given the angle we were at and the nature of the conversation, Stannis' eyes were the eyes of God, wide and all-seeing and betraying no glimpse of a deeper intention.

"You know, it's funny how things change in a year," I chuckled, looking down, elbows on my knees and hands clasped above the air. "A year ago I was working for four Matoran. Atheists, with superiority complexes and money to blow. I earned a lot of money, did a lot of things, and all the way I marinated my hands in the blood that had soaked into the deepest pores of my own name, just so I could wear it again in front of all these people. You know what? It worked, too. Until one day, these six old men and women - just Turaga - died as one, and all of a sudden these four Matoran, these four little schemers who could barely hold a staring contest with my elbow...they stole my name all over again. And this time they're not giving it back without a fight. I can feel that, too."

 

"Demons in the night," Stannis reminded Dorian, not knowing who he was referring to but also not feeling it was his duty to pursue it. "Things are done in time. Sometimes we just have to understand that the job rests on our shoulders, and when it does we have to act on that responsibility."

He sat down next to Dorian and surveyed the vast midnight blue horizon in all its glory, and basked in the sublime nature of his surroundings. Po-Wahi was so beautiful when he didn't have to look at it. Then, passively and like a brother counseling his sibling, he put his hand on Dorian's shoulder and asked to look into his eyes. They were brilliant and blue but sad in a vibrant way, not unlike the persistent glow of an old and used azure lightstone. They were eyes that hankered for something.

"Dorian, answer me this: What do you wish for, more than anything?"

I turned back to Stannis as his hand brushed my shoulder, and from six inches away the gaze was more permeating than I could have ever imagined from six feet. The Toa of Stone's eyes questioned and comforted in the same glow and I let out a low exhale, looking out back towards Tuara.

"I wish that I could stop going back to the same places, seeing the same people, doing the same things in my dreams. I wish I could stop waking up in cold sweats with deeper circles under my eyes than when I first went to sleep. I wish that the greatest thing the universe ever handed me could see that she deserves someone who can actually put her back together. I wish I could get the Great Spirit's attention for just a second, to make all this worth it, and then I wish I could keep it for another second. And another. And another. And then keep it for as long as it takes for things to change."

"You have my attention, Dorian," Stannis said, "and all that you wish for will be made reality, in time, by the best men in your life." He gently shook Dorian's shoulder once to punctuate his meaning. "Including you."

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd start taking the I've heard about your gift of prophecy more seriously."

"And you know, if I felt I had something to prove to you I would do it. But I don't. All things are done... in time," he reminded Dorian, "and it's not my credit to take when it is done. I'm just the prophet, the messenger, the sage soldier, the balancer of reality, the Wanderer, titles I was given by God and men. But beyond all that I am just a man, nothing more, and that's all we are. It's what we do and where we go with our lives that makes us extraordinary. Fight the demons, Dorian, and don't let go of hope, because sometimes it's all we can hold on to."

I smirked and clapped Stannis back on the shoulder, standing up; as I stretched, the knives in the sand corroded and melted away into the desert.

"I'm gonna go and get some rest," I said. "Hit me up sometime. If you ever need any help, you know. Vanquishing demons."

-Tyler

 

[Wotz]

OOC: You could say that, but I think Rynekk hit the nail on the head when he just called him a prick.

 

IC: ???

 

As Rynekk descended down the shaft, the darkness grew thicker and thicker around him, until he could only see a black void. The only sign the stone below him was still moving - other than his mind telling it to do so - was the shudder below his feet of the edges scraping against the sides of the tunnel. Soon enough, however, the rumble disappeared, and the light from above formed a column reaching down to his stone platform. A thud eventually told him the ground had been reached. Not that it mattered, as the only light in the chamber was the spotlight shining down on him.

 

There was an acrid smell here, like metal after heavy rainfall. Everything around seemed to be shrouded in this smelly darkness. There was no sign whatsoever that Stendhal, or, for that matter, anyone else had been here,

 

At least, there wasn't until now. Twin orbs of crystallised, neon lavender, stained lime in the center, flared into life, illuminating what appeared to be the eyeholes of a mask. The eyes were strangely familiar to him.

 

A tense silence hang in the air, as if this being was waiting for him to speak first.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

The pale, dusty light which streamed from the entrance barely cut through the all-envelopping darkness of the grotto. Paranoia flaring like a re-opened wound, I had readied myself, watching for the inevitable flash of blue and gold steel to come and greet me. I'd squinted deeper into the shadows, almost trying to will the spot-light shining down on me to cast itself on my quarry and felt the familiar sense of dark apprehension twist in my chest.

 

The eyes chose this moment to flare into life.

 

Twin circles of brilliant crystal; fluorescent lime ringed with searing pink; staring out at me with an air of subtle impatience. They were met with my own grainy orange gaze, clashing against an aura of confusion and...possible recognition.

 

These eyes; I knew them from somewhere...

 

"I'm looking for a Toa," I slowly state, my guard never wavering, "Gold and blue, goes by the name of 'Stendhal'? He came by this way -- any idea where he went?"

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"Everybody feels like talking, it's just the matter what they want to talk about that's the problem."

IC: Prei

 

I pause for a moment.

 

What do I want to talk about?

 

Oh right.

 

"Why is it that you continue to incense our colleagues?"

[Wotz]

IC: ???

 

A deep, grinding voice, not seeming to come from any direction in particular yet still clearly originating from the owner of the eyes, rang out in the chamber. "Don't worry," he said softly, the tone poisonous yet comforting. "The one you search for is quite alright."

 

Footsteps could be heard tapping across the room as the angle of the eyes changed slightly, and the twin spheres floated through the darkness, circling Rynekk like a Muaka circles its prey.

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"I am doing what I am paid to do."

[25K Now!]

IC: Prei

 

"Getting along better might help."

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"That doesn't really answer the question, now does it?"

 

I kept watching the slow progression of the stranger around me, my gaze absently drawn to the unnerving, ever-changing reflection of light off of his own crystalline eyes. The sun's rays swam in those things, swirling in a hypnotically beautiful dance.

 

But the words that poured from the shadowy figure's mouth lingered in my mind; their tone more than anything, as well as the sheer vagueness of their meaning. They were the sort of things another being of mystery liked saying...

 

Makuta help me, there are two of them now.

 

With that realization in mind, the gleam in those eyes now looked like the sheen on the surface of oil, slimy and acrid. I stepped back from my spot-light, slipping into the shadows. It clung eagerly to the dark shades of my armour and coat, and soon only my eyes could be seen through the gloom. Not missing a beat, I followed the stranger in his predatory movement.

 

"Now then, maybe you'd like me to ask the question again?" I added, my own voice flowing through the darkness like water, "Or would that just lead to the same response?"

 

-Void

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"I didn't join the Sentinels, or Guard, as they called it in my day, to make friends. I joined to train the next generation of defenders for this Koro. If I have to make a few enemies to do it, so be it."

[25K Now!]

IC: Prei

 

"Will they die for you?"

[otter]

IC: Komae

 

The trader smiled. "Oh, thanks! It was pretty silly of me to forget all about the widgets after all that haggling, wasn't it?" He patted the weaponsmith on the shoulder affectionately. "So, while you sort those out, which way's our boat? Any good trading rig casts off early, after all, and I'd hate to miss the boat."

 

IC-Beosach:

 

"The boat? It's right behind you," Beosach said, smiling. After a moment he shoved Komae backwards, the stonecarver landing in a small, though wide, flat-bottomed canoe.

 

"Packs in the middle, and I hope you can row."

[GSR]

IC: Komae

 

He blanched the slightest bit. "I... somehow I got the impression we were going to be on an actual trading ship," he said. Then, quick as a wink, he was all smiles again. "Still! Kind of appropriate, isn't it? A plain old canoe for two plain old Matoran. I like it!" He gestured for the merchant to hop in. "Of course, I'm probably going to like it less in a few hours, but until then!"

[otter]

IC-Beosach:

 

"Well, don't worry," the weaponsmith growled, stepping in himself, and grabbing his paddle*.

 

"I can do most of the work, having done this sort of thing before.

 

OOC: *Paddles, not oars. There's a subtle difference.

Edited June 20, 2013 by Ilyusha Blokfase

[GSR]

IC: Komae

 

"Well, you can't just expect me to sit back and let you do all the work yourself, can you?" He grabbed the other paddle with the steadfast determination that can only be carried by one who doesn't realize his well-intentioned attempts at helping are probably just going to counteract the efforts of the person who actually knows what they're doing. "Shall we?"

[otter]

IC-Beosach:

 

"Fine, but you have to do as I say. First: Turn around, because if you try to paddle while facing me, we'll get nowhere fast."

[GSR]

IC: Komae

 

"...Oh." He grinned sheepishly, and turned around. As he did, he threw one last look over his shoulder at the shores of Po-Koro. I'll be back soon, he thought. Unless I get mugged, or run into Rahkshi, or there's some big fight and I'm in a building that gets exploded in the process.

 

Well, such was life. Starting to whistle, he put his back into pulling the paddle through the water, in the process almost turning them a full ninety degrees before Beosach managed to correct their course.

[otter]

IC-Beosach:

 

"Okay, you start rowing starboard, then port, then starboard, then port, alright?" Beosach suggested, smiling, though Komae wouldn't see it. And then he proceeded to do the opposite of what he was telling Komae to do. After all, he best way to maintain a straight course with a rookie was to make them row opposite you, and then you make the turns happen.

 

Good thing Beosach was in the back.

 

"And now we continue for the next while until we reach Ga-Koro. Anytime you need to take a break, do so."

 

This was likely to prove a long ride.

 

OOC: Beosach and Komae to Ga-Wahi.

Edited June 20, 2013 by Ilyusha Blokfase

[Athmos]

IC(Maxiam Kilanewb):

 

"I hope, that when we all face our final days, and there is the hour of wolves and shattering of shields, that we put aside our personal differences, and we fight together, die together, and are remembered together."

[Wotz]

IC: ???

 

The being laughed.

 

A long, drawn out chuckle, and not at all forced. Taking a wheezy intake of breath, he spoke again. "I don't think you understand. I wasn't talking about Stendhal."

 

In his circular walk, the mysterious Toa brushed a little too close to the light, and a glint of an arm was seen, briefly, by the sun. It was dark and colourless, and, like the eyes, eerily familiar to Rynekk. The fingers were out of sight, but the slight twitch in the back of their hand implied they were flexing them. A nervous twitch? A subconscious habit? Did it have some kind of actual purpose? None of this would clear, but Rynekk was free to speculate.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

And then, there was an arm.

 

Light glinted off of the armour, revealing a colourless hue wrapping a strong forearm. The muscles in his hand were taut, meaning his fingers were probably flexed. My gaze narrowed at that thought; this guy to be about the size of a Toa, a race whose power traditionally flowed through the arms and used hands as conduits.

 

And don't even get me started about the familiarity of this appendage...

 

Where do I know this guy from?

 

"Funny," I said with casual disdain, "Y'know, when I ask a question, I usually prefer an answer which somehow relates to it. Bad habit, I guess.

 

"Also, I should point out that you're coming dangerously close to impeding a Sentinel investigation -- a crime which carries a lot of jail time with it."

 

My eyes narrowed slightly as I tried picking apart his words again. Someone I was looking for was alright -- but not Stendhal. But then who else--

 

Oh.

 

Karz.

 

-Void