Your success in retrieving Knuckles has brought your three colorful allies back together, thus marking it a resounding success. Still, it's highly unlikely Eggman is going to overlook the destruction of his robots at that base or Knuckles going missing... But strangely, it seems as though life goes on as usual in Chicago.
The patrolling robots have had their numbers cut; a sign that you're doing something, at least. Unfortunately, the humans of this world still don't react to your presence at all, and there's no stopping the chroma slowly overtaking the city. More buildings and wildlife have been affected this week, even though Eggman hasn't set foot here. It's not exactly the most encouraging thing even if this weekend was a success.
THE CITY
Now that you're familiar with Chicago and how to find your way back to the base, you're free to explore as you see fit. You want to venture out into the suburbs? You want to take a day trip to wander even further out? Sure thing! Just be sure to let Tails know where you're going so he doesn't have a heart attack if someone goes missing.
While you're out exploring, you'll likely run across Knuckles or Sonic - both of whom will immediately beeline into the nearest robots to smash them with extreme prejudice. Regardless, they'll gladly help you if you need a hand with anything, or will otherwise carry out their tasks for Tails.
Unfortunately, the rest of the city is as lifeless as it was last week. The humans will scarcely pay attention to you, wildlife will go about lifelessly, and Eggman's unique white chrome slowly overtakes more of the city. In fact, some buildings seem to have been entirely renovated from last week - you'll find more and more "Eggman" versions of stores, attractions, and landmarks.
NIGHTMARES
The biggest difference this week has nothing to do with the world around you at large, however. Instead, you'll find your nights are far more difficult - for absolutely no reason that anyone can pinpoint. If you're lucky, you'll have unsettling dreams that leave you feeling a little worried when you wake, but otherwise fairly well rested.
If you're unlucky, you'll have horrific nightmares.
You may dream about an unwinnable battle - is it against hordes of robots? is it against your enemies back home? - where you simply don't have any choice but to fight, even though you know you can't win. The odds are stacked too high against you, no matter what you do. Will you give in? Will you fight?
You may dream about your fears - the things that threaten to seize you in a vicegrip and never let go. Are you scared of failure? Then you will experience your greatest failures in detail. Even the simplest, most mundane fears will be wildly twisted out of control - and you're powerless to wake yourself up, trapped within the dreams until the night is over and you finally, finally wake up.
You may dream about your past - whatever horrible incidents that haunt you or frighten you to think about will return in full force. These are never perfect recreations of the past, instead twisted facsimiles that only make those thoughts worse. Reliving it is one thing, but having the experience changed on you may be even worse.
Regardless of your dreams, you may find that you're not alone. Others here can be pulled into these dreams - trapped with you until either the dream ends and you wake up... or you die in the dream. Those seem to be the only ways out, no matter what you do. Still, having a buddy with you to help fight might help, right?
When you do wake up, you'll see blood red and you'll feel tired no matter how long you slept. Perhaps a nap is in order - but these dreams are just as likely to infect your naps as well.
SHARDS
You should feel fairly comfortable with using your shard power by now. You may also find that the more you use it, the more things you're able to do with it. Starting this week, your shards' powers are more pronounced, allowing you to do more with them than you could before.
As you fight with your allies - particularly those you have a close bond with, positive or negative - you may feel the tug of something in the back of your head; it tells you that you can do more. Together, you can become more powerful. You can use your shards together. Doing so will grant you a new power, or strengthen the one you already have. The more you trust one another, the easier this power will be to use.
It might be good to experiment with these new powers; after all, you never know when you may need them.
TAILS' TASKS
As mentioned to some of you, the rings that Sonic and friends use to hop between worlds have been dwindling in number, given how many were used to visit all of you and bring you in to begin with. Your job - should you choose to accept it - is to track down more rings. Tails will grant you with a tracking device that will allow you to find the exact locations of these rings. All you have to do is figure out how to get them.
Rings, as it turns out, are not quite as easy to collect as one would expect. They can appear anywhere throughout the city or the surrounding areas, but they always appear in some sort of frustrating place. Perhaps one has manifested at the top of a tree, or on top of the bean. Maybe it's hiding behind rows and rows of items in the W*lmart. Maybe you'll have to break into an employees' only room or a restricted area for one. Regardless, no ring is going to be simple to collect, and it's up to you to figure out how to get it. Every single ring counts, after all.
ENEMIES
This week's enemies are the same as last week's, though lesser in number. Like last week, you shouldn't let them escape, but you're growing stronger: they should be easier to beat than last week.
Badnik Surveillance Units are primarily made for reconnaissance. They can be found flying overhead, observing the people go about their lives and following scheduled flight paths and patterns to ensure every inch of the city is being observed. Well, mostly. You can find some back alleys and hidden spots here and there, and these Badniks usually won't go into buildings or out into the woods. They will immediately try to flee upon spotting you. They're easy to take down, though a bit more durable than one would expect, given Eggman's designs. If cornered, they are capable of shooting a simple laser beam that will hurt and possibly leave a burn.
Badnik Drones are the most common combat robot you will find. Small chrome white orbs with red eyes, they are capable of scanning and detecting abnormalities. They are not quite as common as the Badnik Surveillance Units, but you'll still spot several of them floating through the city at any given point in time. Unlike the Badnik Surveillance Units, these come ready for combat. They can fire lasers as well as shoot small homing missiles. The homing missiles thankfully aren't very fast and can be outrun or otherwise blocked, but they pack a punch if they do hit! These robots will stand their ground and fight if they spot you, but they will call for backup - if you aren't fast enough, you'll find yourself facing many of them!
The Badnik Transformer Model B33, more affectionately called Buzz Bombers by Tails and friends, is... well, it looks like a bee. A hornet, rather, as that stinger is actually a precision laser that moves fast. These robots typically look like Badnik Drones, but are capable of shifting and uncoiling themselves to become the B33 units. They are fast, they hit hard, and they are relentless, pursuing you nonstop until they've been destroyed. They will not call for backup, which is possibly the only saving grace about fighting them. Unfortunately, it's impossible to tell if a Badnik is a Drone or a B33 until you're actually in combat - and by then it may be(e) too late.
Badnik Tanks are mini... well, tanks. They stand about the size of a large dog and roll around on treads through the city. They're much rarer than the other robots, but it seems some have been sent to Chicago after the destruction of the base. These tanks are capable of shooting a large laser that deals significant damage to anyone it hits, and they're quite durable. When severely damaged, they start sparking - they'll explode when hit, and you probably don't want to be in melee range!
[HE'D PREFER NOT TO TALK ABOUT IT but here we are...
Still, he flinches yet again, before reaching out to take Fukuda by the wrist.]
Ah... here, c-come on. We shouldn't stay here, or this will never end.
[White starts to flake away to metal streets, though the sides of your vision never get any clearer. The smell of smoke and molten metals thickens the air with warmth, the lighting going red and dark under towering cylindrical buildings, walkways that stacked on top of one another, foundries and conveyors, shipping and processing yards fenced up several stories, smokestacks that seem to stretch far off into the sky.
The district is cramped, but empty. Quiet.And every few steps, that pain flickers, and with it, so do the surroundings. Darkened skies. Destroyed catwalks. Enormous towers split down the middle and spilling their molten contents over miles and miles of buildings, the roar of fires and failing structures groaning like the cry of some far off dying animals, all as the sky rumbles.
Every flicker gets worse, like a warning bell in the mind, and it only seems to stop if Vakama halts completely.]
[If it weren't for the nigh constant pain, Fukuda would be having a great time. This looks cool as shit and also he's holding hands with a little evangelion man. "He grabbed him by the wrist" shhh details.
[That gets him to pause in silence for longer than is comfortable, grip squirming uncomfortably.
Since when had anyone ever asked?
...]
Um... no, no. [Quiet, eyes to the ground, as though he's more intent on memorizing the pattern of the catwalk's mesh surface.] Not... constantly, if that's what you mean.
[Oh BIG mood re: not even being asked about your suffering. Fukuda looks down at the mesh too, and has a distant urge to count the holes in the mesh. Easy to ignore now.]
Hm. [He could ask how often but... he doesn't want to.]
He hesitates, slowly drawing to a stop, still facing the floor.
As soon as the lack of forward motion from Vakama stops, the surroundings start to blur into white again, the press of those indistinct voices that much louder.
--Vakama, we have to go--
--needs to take charge--
what are we supposed to--
--Vakama, surely you know this isn't going to help anyone if y--
--dying, we have to turn back--
It's a temporarily release from the onslaught, but the pressure only increases. Thousands of eyes on you, thousands of words pushing down.
There is no time, to dwell on it.
To create an issue that should not be.
You have a job to do. You have a job to do. You HAVE a JOB you HAVE to you HAVE to--
...
Slowly, he'll turn back to look. Frightened, in a way. Cautious, moreso.]
[Damn bro you live like this. This sucks. Is this what it means to be a main character because damn. Whack.
Anyway, Fukuda hesitates, but well... He's seeing some of Vakama's inner torment, whatever the fuck all this even is or means. It's only fair.]
Before... I had my hole. I couldn't think clearly a lot of the time. I had to count things. Tiles on the floor, blades of grass on the lawn, stars in the sky. I'd have to do things over and over. Write things down, pointless things. But always the numbers. Trying to ignore it.... I just couldn't. It didn't hurt quite like this, but....
[The shame that settles, with that feeling of instability -- how small it makes him feel.
He lets out a choking noise as they're both lurched forward slightly - a different catwalk, a different layout, as though snapping from image to image. A reality that isn't, built off the memory of a reality that was. Feeling believable even in its swirling sense of disorientation.]
It... i-it normally doesn't linger quite this much for me. The pain. Once I'm seeing this, I... it's different.
[Still, he shakes his head and tries to get them moving again. Moving, moving, they have to.
Signs of life echo like whispers of ghosts in amidst the foundries and rubble; nameplates and personal touches, well worn metal underfoot, paint on bars worn down from constant usage, hundreds of carved tablets hung with everything from workman's lists to accolades, banners hung with the district colors, monumental screens that once might have displayed something important for a huge crowd, now cracked and blackened. Enormous support rings, once holding some sort of transportation chute system that stretched in every direction, now lay empty and cracking.
The more they walk, the more the rubble fills in. Wildlife making nests. Webs stringing together broken pipework. A deep, poisonous fog of green.
The voices twist, a mocking tone that is hard to pinpoint as genuine or not.
--you should not blame yourself
you are a mask maker
matoran in armor
let us praise these jesters
imposters
you are a mask maker
not a--
...]
You... hurt yourself so brutally? Just to make it all go away?
[He may not understand what exactly is going on but... the vibes. It doesn't seem the right time to ask for context. Later, maybe. But it does still feel familiar. And it maybe isn't fair to see this shorter Vakama as a child, he's not human so it might not be the same. Besides, the consciousness is clearly adult Vakama because he recognized Fukuda. Still... the connection he made, he can't help but look down and feel an echo of himself as a child, alone, in pain, struggling.
So he shifts the grip Vakama has on his wrist to hold his hand properly. He doesn't know if it's a similar sort of comfort to Vakama, but it's what he'd have liked.]
Aah, I did. I didn't feel like I had any other choice because I was alone. That's why I want to help everyone.
Don't ever think you have to hurt yourself anymore, then, Fukuda.
I want to believe you can help just the way you are.
[The ground snaps forward again, as though being yanked through space by an invisible hand. You feel unsteady and will need to catch yourself.
You can hear the echoes of reaction as you do so - warbled, confused, distant. Someone, somewhere, elsewhere.
"Is everything alright?"
"What's with him?"
The space you raise up into has has the ceiling and one of the walls completely blown out, revealing the darkened sky and smoke filled walkways trailing up and up into forever. It's a foundry, an enormous forge set in the center with equipment and tools strung from every available piece of metal, parts and craftings and molds and masks scattered like so much debris.
At the foot of the ruins lies a sphere. The hatch is open, with red lights blinking on and off. But the sphere itself looks empty.
Vakama's exhausted demeanor only deepens at the site of it, choosing to ignore as he tries to get a better view of his bearings. But surely it would be fine to take a closer look.
Surely you would trust your h̴̠̣̪̊̊e̸̯̚r̷̢̬̹̾o̷̻̭̭̾͑͂̓̋e̴̢̡̪̋̂̇̓ͅs̷̛͉͖̥̬̯̈́̓.]
Um... watch your step, okay? This is -- was -- my foundry, but I know I left it in quite a state...
[He was going to assure Vakama that now that he has his hole he certainly doesn't think he needs to injure himself further, but then all these fucking events occur. Fukuda wants to explore all this cool setting but Vakama clearly doesn't want him running about all willy nilly.]
Your foundry? Is that like... where you were born... made?
[Looking at the sphere.]
Did you hatch out of that metal egg??
[He's clearly so fucking exited and interest in this... cool biomechanical stuff.]
[He starts to mumble out a response, but then Fukuda just keeps going and
well
He tries and fails to stifle a laugh, like the slightest crack in a dam, so baffled by the question that it breaks him momentarily out of the little dark cloud seeming to hover over him.]
No! N-no, ahaha... W... w-what, do you think of us like a bird? [Snrk.]
No, this is just where I work. I am... or, um, I used to be a mask-maker.
And that. Um.
[He glances back towards the sphere, clearly debating something internally.
...]
Just... stay away from it, okay? It shouldn't be here.
[Vakama is so serious that Fukuda doesn't even feel like he's being laughed at, it's nice to see Vakama experience joy for a moment.]
Ah! I thought your face looked a bit like a mask, but I didn't want to ask, since if that was just what your people's face was like, it'd be rude to say.
But you know, Lizards and fish come from eggs too! You said parts of you were biological, so I just thought maybe....
[Anyway he rolled a 15. What's he perceiving.]
Thank you fukuda for genuinely distracting vakama off script
You're not the first to ask it. There's lots of species in my world that don't wear them, either. So don't feel bad, my friend.
It's stranger for me to see so many of you without one, but... Kanohi masks are more important for us than a human, I guess. Without one, a Matoran wouldn't have the strength to live, let alone work.
[Fukuda at least is more observant than Vakama in seeing a black, tentacle-like tendril of plant and decay stretching out of the shadows of the rubble.]
Ah, so you're like a more organically incorporated Kamen Rider.
[Fukuda no one knows what you're talking about you idiot. Anyway yeah he sure sees the tentacle but surely if Vakama isn't concerned it's fine? Maybe plants are just like that on his world. "What's the point of that 15 if he's not doing anything about it?" Nik can make me roll, Nik can't make Fukuda be useful.]
But I can see why you'd feel that way if they're that important. So a "foundry" is a place to make these masks, then?
While the distraction was nice while it lasted, it also means that by the time twisting pressure has wrapped completely around one Fukuda's legs, there is nothing either can do as the very safe and normal tentacle plant drags him backwards at an alarming speed.]
Wh-- Fukuda?!
[Vakama is, for the moment, left behind.
The heat starts to rise suddenly. Drastically. The further Fukuda is tugged through the rubble, the more it feels like he's the equivalent of a piece of scrap metal being tossed about, about ready to burn in an incinerator.
His vision jostles, nauseating, a speed that is impossible for the distance he's taken, into the wreck of an enormous open furnace almost unfathomably tall, s̸͕͓̄ǒ̴̱̪͈̠͌͐ṁ̸̛̠͌̑ḙ̷͍̺͂̿̕͝ť̶̫͌̊h̸̛̛͓͓͈̾̒į̵̘͙͉̀̈n̴̢̩͉̺̏̎̀g̵̨̙̎ boiling in its catastrophic flames.
The vine doesn't let up, aiming straight for the flames. But arms grab him - stronger, larger, a Toa again, gripping onto Fukuda for dear life with one hand as he wheels his disk launcher completely around with the other and fires. The entire vine's molecular makeup instantly scrambles with a garbled screeching sounds, melding into the floor as Vakama desperately tries to drag Fukuda backwards.]
--Hang on, I've got you-- ohh, I should have known, I should have known this was a trap the moment I saw that blasted thing--
Another shadowed tendril coils behind Vakama and snaps him up tight by the waist. Caught off guard, his form changes right back as his weapon vanishes and his grip on Fukuda falters, yelling and shoving for purchase as he's lifted right back into the air.
What time was wasted in your incessant searching?
What lives brought to suffer?
With a whipping snap, Vakama is fully thrown across the room like a ragdoll.
Though free of the vine, Fukuda will find his limbs drawn down on the spot in a rain of unavoidable projectiles. Hundreds of thousands of seeded capsules fall from the ceiling; cracking open where they land, growing quickly like a mass of writhing, multiplying snakes of rot and plant and darkness, grasping out to wrap him still and drag him to his death.
No matter whether he acts or stays still, any magical or shard power he has is draining without replenishment.]
[Honestly, when Fukuda is grabbed, by the time he's aware enough to react, he's already being dragged along. He just sort of... goes limp? This might as well happen. He's experienced simulated death so many times already, dying in a dream can't be that different!
But then Vakama, regular-sized now, is trying to save him. But, a trap, huh. Then-]
Ah, Mr Vakama, you don't have to worry about me-
[And then, yeah, just as he feared, Vakama is grabbed and is now in danger because of him. This is horrible even if it's not real! If it werent for that he'd just give up and let this rain of horrible tentacle seeds buffet him, but no. He has to fight to get up to try and reach for Vakama. He just has to get close enough to touch the tentacle, because then he can make a hole in it before he runs out of power, so that Vakama can break free. It doesn't matter of Fukuda gets taken out in the process. Hopefully an 11 is enough to pull that off.]
[Any movement through the growing sea of vines drags like quicksand, the heat sweltering. Every struggle pours out more and more of himself, as though he's forgotten how to pace himself - or has never HAD to pace himself. But Fukuda is able to slap his hand against the thickest portion of the vine, and a hole immediately erupts to consume it. The monster at the center of the room screeches as Vakama falls straight to the floor.
Good news: He is free! Bad news: He is not free for very long because there are a bajillion trillion vine babies. But at least as Matoran Vakama falls down, it is Toa Vakama that pushes up off the floor like he's coming up for air, though he's struggling with his growing weakness just as much.]
We're a team, Fukuda! If I can get you out of a mess, I'm going to try--!
[It's getting hard to breathe, between the heat and the pulling. Suffocating, suffocating.
--Vakama, are you sure about this--]
I... I have an idea.
[You're exhausted. You're beyond exhausted. An echo of Vakama's voice rings like a memory. Pushing. Pushing.
"Keep going! Together, at its heart! We will win!"
Wrestling the backwards pull, he shoves a disk into his launcher.]
Do what you did at the containment block! Right underneath you!
[You don't have much more to give. But you're running out of time.]
[He wants to protest, say he's not worth saving, but then he's been given a task. He is a little worried that it's just going to save him and not Vakama, but... Well, he doesn't fully understand what this tentacle thing is, while Vakama does so.... he does as he's told. What the fuck is he going to fall into. I hope it's lava.]
[The floor dips out beneath Fukuda as a hole swallows up both him and hundreds of vines down into a formless abyss. The vines, quickly ripping away from their source, start to grow thin.
A split second later, Vakama slams the trigger of his disc launcher into his own leg - a teleport disk, low coded, that ricochets him just a short ways away from Fukuda. Now freefalling and back into his Matoran self, he struggles to right himself at the change of orientation, an attempt to try and speak in Fukuda's direction.
But there is no time to catch their breath.
Their bodies will both ricochet off repeated hard surfaces of metal, to a grand flooring split into hexagonal shapes; shooting up in columns, tossing them about like dolls, slamming them into high stone walls under the jeering boos of a crowd.
--The heart of Metru Nui, do you have it safe?--
You're too exhausted to do anything but withstand it. Your powers spark but no longer answer. Ghost-like forms of your fellow shard-carrying teammates pick themselves up off the floor, beaten and barely on their feet.
Someone high above you laughs.
"Let us praise these jesters. Perhaps they sought to entertain us during this difficult time.
Or, are they imposters? Responsible for our true Toa's demise?"
The sounds of the unseen crowd roar in fury.
All the effort to be made a fool.
Half your teammates go flying backward to vanish into an unseen space beyond, pulled by the wind itself. The rest scramble for one another, for their weapons, for an escape, as an enormous swarm of robots marches in advance on them.
For people saw true colors, not your empty attempts.
You can do nothing but run. Run. Run, hide, search through muddied dark spaces with your bare hands. You're exhausted. You're all so exhausted.
Empty attempts. Misguided efforts.
The jeering echos of the crowd slowly die to eerie silence. The clicking hiss of a hatch unlocks in the outstretched darkness. An empty sphere - the same sphere from Vakama's foundry - mocking, as lightning starts to crack overhead.
--Tell me, Vakama. The heart of Metru Nui, do you have it safe?--
Vakama flinches at the gentleness of the question, in amidst the more prominent, jeering mockery, trying to push himself back to his feet despite how his body aches, but too tired to go any further than his hands and knees.]
...It... just got out of hand. Even with a plan, we...
I...
[He clenches his fists against the ground, allowing himself a moment to be bitter.]
This wasn't what I asked for. They're all trying their hardest. All of you.
[It's a good thing this is a dream, because for Fukuda to have gone through a bunch of colisions that hurt a cool half-robot guy, Fukuda as a flesh man should certainly be dead. As the dream logic stands, he's just very badly hurt! One if his hands is bent in a way it should not be. But whatever don't worry it's fine. He groans a little, remaining on the floor where he landed.]
Vakama you've really... got a lot going on. Between all this and the way you went out of your way to save me when you really shouldn't have... you're definitely the main character in your story.
[He gingerly looks up, spotting the injury and wincing as he tries to crawl over and examine it.
Once more his form flickers back to that of his Toa self, hand outstretched.
--We focus too much on how our powers can harm, brothers. Please, let us not forget what capabilities it has to heal--
It's not much on his own, and hardly anything to help repair the actual damage. But the pain will lessen from the fracture for the time being.]
Fukuda... [A quiet laugh, humorless and tired.] Please don't joke in such a way. I'm... just myself. I never asked for this. I never wanted to be a hero.
I just want to do what my heart knows is right.
[It seems like an empty statement after it all, echo eaten into the void, where the stars of the sky seem to black out in response, two glorious suns eclipsing as though the universe has shut its eyes to their efforts.]
And yet...
[You failed.
You fled.
The darkness evaporates back into the sound of a violent sea crashes in their ears, surrounded by darkened rock pitted by centuries of waves. A body, golden and feeble and frail, ricochets past them in the dark with a trail of dark energy, immediately drawing Vakama's attention with a choke of distress.
To the ends of the silver sea, leaving your people behind. Suffering for sake of your
COWARDICE.
Fukuda will see an enormous claw of shadow reaching out beyond the sea like a giant swatting a fly, intent on smashing them both against the sea wall.]
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no subject
But hum. Taller? Then that must mean-]
Did I shrink then???
[WAIT NO, HE SAID BEFORE-]
Ah, no, is this maybe... your memories? Or a dream....
no subject
[Parroted, as his eyes trace the ground, brow tense.]
Maybe. Maybe, I... I'm not used to my dreams looking like this. It's more...
[A beat, hesitant.]
...More like a vision.
no subject
[Lol. Lmao.]
no subject
Yes. I'm afraid so.
[HE'D PREFER NOT TO TALK ABOUT IT but here we are...
Still, he flinches yet again, before reaching out to take Fukuda by the wrist.]
Ah... here, c-come on. We shouldn't stay here, or this will never end.
[White starts to flake away to metal streets, though the sides of your vision never get any clearer. The smell of smoke and molten metals thickens the air with warmth, the lighting going red and dark under towering cylindrical buildings, walkways that stacked on top of one another, foundries and conveyors, shipping and processing yards fenced up several stories, smokestacks that seem to stretch far off into the sky.
The district is cramped, but empty. Quiet. And every few steps, that pain flickers, and with it, so do the surroundings. Darkened skies. Destroyed catwalks. Enormous towers split down the middle and spilling their molten contents over miles and miles of buildings, the roar of fires and failing structures groaning like the cry of some far off dying animals, all as the sky rumbles.
Every flicker gets worse, like a warning bell in the mind, and it only seems to stop if Vakama halts completely.]
no subject
In any case, the pain;]
Do you normally feel like this? All the time?
no subject
Since when had anyone ever asked?
...]
Um... no, no. [Quiet, eyes to the ground, as though he's more intent on memorizing the pattern of the catwalk's mesh surface.] Not... constantly, if that's what you mean.
no subject
Hm.
[He could ask how often but... he doesn't want to.]
I know the feeling, I think. In a way.
no subject
He hesitates, slowly drawing to a stop, still facing the floor.
As soon as the lack of forward motion from Vakama stops, the surroundings start to blur into white again, the press of those indistinct voices that much louder.
--Vakama, we have to go--
--needs to take charge--
what are we supposed to--
--Vakama, surely you know this isn't going to help anyone if y--
--dying, we have to turn back--
It's a temporarily release from the onslaught, but the pressure only increases. Thousands of eyes on you, thousands of words pushing down.
There is no time, to dwell on it.
To create an issue that should not be.
You have a job to do. You have a job to do. You HAVE a JOB you HAVE to you HAVE to--
...
Slowly, he'll turn back to look. Frightened, in a way. Cautious, moreso.]
...What do you mean?
no subject
Anyway, Fukuda hesitates, but well... He's seeing some of Vakama's inner torment, whatever the fuck all this even is or means. It's only fair.]
Before... I had my hole. I couldn't think clearly a lot of the time. I had to count things. Tiles on the floor, blades of grass on the lawn, stars in the sky. I'd have to do things over and over. Write things down, pointless things. But always the numbers. Trying to ignore it.... I just couldn't. It didn't hurt quite like this, but....
[A similar sort of agony.]
no subject
...
It's... out of your control, as well?
[The shame that settles, with that feeling of instability -- how small it makes him feel.
He lets out a choking noise as they're both lurched forward slightly - a different catwalk, a different layout, as though snapping from image to image. A reality that isn't, built off the memory of a reality that was. Feeling believable even in its swirling sense of disorientation.]
It... i-it normally doesn't linger quite this much for me. The pain. Once I'm seeing this, I... it's different.
[Still, he shakes his head and tries to get them moving again. Moving, moving, they have to.
Signs of life echo like whispers of ghosts in amidst the foundries and rubble; nameplates and personal touches, well worn metal underfoot, paint on bars worn down from constant usage, hundreds of carved tablets hung with everything from workman's lists to accolades, banners hung with the district colors, monumental screens that once might have displayed something important for a huge crowd, now cracked and blackened. Enormous support rings, once holding some sort of transportation chute system that stretched in every direction, now lay empty and cracking.
The more they walk, the more the rubble fills in. Wildlife making nests. Webs stringing together broken pipework. A deep, poisonous fog of green.
The voices twist, a mocking tone that is hard to pinpoint as genuine or not.
--you should not blame yourself
you are a mask maker
matoran in armor
let us praise these jesters
imposters
you are a mask maker
not a--
...]
You... hurt yourself so brutally? Just to make it all go away?
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So he shifts the grip Vakama has on his wrist to hold his hand properly. He doesn't know if it's a similar sort of comfort to Vakama, but it's what he'd have liked.]
Aah, I did. I didn't feel like I had any other choice because I was alone. That's why I want to help everyone.
[Because no one was there to help him.]
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He adjusts his grip to allow for it.]
...
Don't ever think you have to hurt yourself anymore, then, Fukuda.
I want to believe you can help just the way you are.
[The ground snaps forward again, as though being yanked through space by an invisible hand. You feel unsteady and will need to catch yourself.
You can hear the echoes of reaction as you do so - warbled, confused, distant. Someone, somewhere, elsewhere.
"Is everything alright?"
"What's with him?"
The space you raise up into has has the ceiling and one of the walls completely blown out, revealing the darkened sky and smoke filled walkways trailing up and up into forever. It's a foundry, an enormous forge set in the center with equipment and tools strung from every available piece of metal, parts and craftings and molds and masks scattered like so much debris.
At the foot of the ruins lies a sphere. The hatch is open, with red lights blinking on and off. But the sphere itself looks empty.
Vakama's exhausted demeanor only deepens at the site of it, choosing to ignore as he tries to get a better view of his bearings. But surely it would be fine to take a closer look.
Surely you would trust your h̴̠̣̪̊̊e̸̯̚r̷̢̬̹̾o̷̻̭̭̾͑͂̓̋e̴̢̡̪̋̂̇̓ͅs̷̛͉͖̥̬̯̈́̓.]
Um... watch your step, okay? This is -- was -- my foundry, but I know I left it in quite a state...
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Your foundry? Is that like... where you were born... made?
[Looking at the sphere.]
Did you hatch out of that metal egg??
[He's clearly so fucking exited and interest in this... cool biomechanical stuff.]
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well
He tries and fails to stifle a laugh, like the slightest crack in a dam, so baffled by the question that it breaks him momentarily out of the little dark cloud seeming to hover over him.]
No! N-no, ahaha... W... w-what, do you think of us like a bird? [Snrk.]
No, this is just where I work. I am... or, um, I used to be a mask-maker.
And that. Um.
[He glances back towards the sphere, clearly debating something internally.
...]
Just... stay away from it, okay? It shouldn't be here.
[Roll a d20 for perception, Caitie.]
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Ah! I thought your face looked a bit like a mask, but I didn't want to ask, since if that was just what your people's face was like, it'd be rude to say.
But you know, Lizards and fish come from eggs too! You said parts of you were biological, so I just thought maybe....
[Anyway he rolled a 15. What's he perceiving.]
Thank you fukuda for genuinely distracting vakama off script
It's stranger for me to see so many of you without one, but... Kanohi masks are more important for us than a human, I guess. Without one, a Matoran wouldn't have the strength to live, let alone work.
[Fukuda at least is more observant than Vakama in seeing a black, tentacle-like tendril of plant and decay stretching out of the shadows of the rubble.]
It's why I liked what I did. It felt worthwhile.
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[Fukuda no one knows what you're talking about you idiot. Anyway yeah he sure sees the tentacle but surely if Vakama isn't concerned it's fine? Maybe plants are just like that on his world. "What's the point of that 15 if he's not doing anything about it?" Nik can make me roll, Nik can't make Fukuda be useful.]
But I can see why you'd feel that way if they're that important. So a "foundry" is a place to make these masks, then?
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[It's okay vakama knows pretty much nothing that comes out of fukuda's mouth anyway so it's not like this is new]
Ah, no, not just masks. Anything that needs to be forged can be done through here. Most of the tools here are things I've made. Masks are just my---
/2 cw fires, tentacle/snake imagery just to be safe
While the distraction was nice while it lasted, it also means that by the time twisting pressure has wrapped completely around one Fukuda's legs, there is nothing either can do as the very safe and normal tentacle plant drags him backwards at an alarming speed.]
Wh-- Fukuda?!
[Vakama is, for the moment, left behind.
The heat starts to rise suddenly. Drastically. The further Fukuda is tugged through the rubble, the more it feels like he's the equivalent of a piece of scrap metal being tossed about, about ready to burn in an incinerator.
His vision jostles, nauseating, a speed that is impossible for the distance he's taken, into the wreck of an enormous open furnace almost unfathomably tall, s̸͕͓̄ǒ̴̱̪͈̠͌͐ṁ̸̛̠͌̑ḙ̷͍̺͂̿̕͝ť̶̫͌̊h̸̛̛͓͓͈̾̒į̵̘͙͉̀̈n̴̢̩͉̺̏̎̀g̵̨̙̎ boiling in its catastrophic flames.
The vine doesn't let up, aiming straight for the flames. But arms grab him - stronger, larger, a Toa again, gripping onto Fukuda for dear life with one hand as he wheels his disk launcher completely around with the other and fires. The entire vine's molecular makeup instantly scrambles with a garbled screeching sounds, melding into the floor as Vakama desperately tries to drag Fukuda backwards.]
--Hang on, I've got you-- ohh, I should have known, I should have known this was a trap the moment I saw that blasted thing--
[Is this what it takes from you, Vakama?
It's a voice that echoes from nowhere, piercing but echoing. A reverberation, not a source.
we're wasting time--
--hunting down just because of--
--so sure about this--
How many mistakes?
How far must you let it go?
Who is responsible, Vakama?
Another shadowed tendril coils behind Vakama and snaps him up tight by the waist. Caught off guard, his form changes right back as his weapon vanishes and his grip on Fukuda falters, yelling and shoving for purchase as he's lifted right back into the air.
What time was wasted in your incessant searching?
What lives brought to suffer?
With a whipping snap, Vakama is fully thrown across the room like a ragdoll.
Though free of the vine, Fukuda will find his limbs drawn down on the spot in a rain of unavoidable projectiles. Hundreds of thousands of seeded capsules fall from the ceiling; cracking open where they land, growing quickly like a mass of writhing, multiplying snakes of rot and plant and darkness, grasping out to wrap him still and drag him to his death.
No matter whether he acts or stays still, any magical or shard power he has is draining without replenishment.]
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But then Vakama, regular-sized now, is trying to save him. But, a trap, huh. Then-]
Ah, Mr Vakama, you don't have to worry about me-
[And then, yeah, just as he feared, Vakama is grabbed and is now in danger because of him. This is horrible even if it's not real! If it werent for that he'd just give up and let this rain of horrible tentacle seeds buffet him, but no. He has to fight to get up to try and reach for Vakama. He just has to get close enough to touch the tentacle, because then he can make a hole in it before he runs out of power, so that Vakama can break free. It doesn't matter of Fukuda gets taken out in the process. Hopefully an 11 is enough to pull that off.]
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Good news: He is free! Bad news: He is not free for very long because there are a bajillion trillion vine babies. But at least as Matoran Vakama falls down, it is Toa Vakama that pushes up off the floor like he's coming up for air, though he's struggling with his growing weakness just as much.]
We're a team, Fukuda! If I can get you out of a mess, I'm going to try--!
[It's getting hard to breathe, between the heat and the pulling. Suffocating, suffocating.
--Vakama, are you sure about this--]
I... I have an idea.
[You're exhausted. You're beyond exhausted. An echo of Vakama's voice rings like a memory. Pushing. Pushing.
"Keep going! Together, at its heart! We will win!"
Wrestling the backwards pull, he shoves a disk into his launcher.]
Do what you did at the containment block! Right underneath you!
[You don't have much more to give. But you're running out of time.]
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A split second later, Vakama slams the trigger of his disc launcher into his own leg - a teleport disk, low coded, that ricochets him just a short ways away from Fukuda. Now freefalling and back into his Matoran self, he struggles to right himself at the change of orientation, an attempt to try and speak in Fukuda's direction.
But there is no time to catch their breath.
Their bodies will both ricochet off repeated hard surfaces of metal, to a grand flooring split into hexagonal shapes; shooting up in columns, tossing them about like dolls, slamming them into high stone walls under the jeering boos of a crowd.
--The heart of Metru Nui, do you have it safe?--
You're too exhausted to do anything but withstand it. Your powers spark but no longer answer. Ghost-like forms of your fellow shard-carrying teammates pick themselves up off the floor, beaten and barely on their feet.
Someone high above you laughs.
"Let us praise these jesters. Perhaps they sought to entertain us during this difficult time.
Or, are they imposters? Responsible for our true Toa's demise?"
The sounds of the unseen crowd roar in fury.
All the effort to be made a fool.
Half your teammates go flying backward to vanish into an unseen space beyond, pulled by the wind itself. The rest scramble for one another, for their weapons, for an escape, as an enormous swarm of robots marches in advance on them.
For people saw true colors, not your empty attempts.
You can do nothing but run. Run. Run, hide, search through muddied dark spaces with your bare hands. You're exhausted. You're all so exhausted.
Empty attempts. Misguided efforts.
The jeering echos of the crowd slowly die to eerie silence. The clicking hiss of a hatch unlocks in the outstretched darkness. An empty sphere - the same sphere from Vakama's foundry - mocking, as lightning starts to crack overhead.
--Tell me, Vakama. The heart of Metru Nui, do you have it safe?--
Vakama flinches at the gentleness of the question, in amidst the more prominent, jeering mockery, trying to push himself back to his feet despite how his body aches, but too tired to go any further than his hands and knees.]
...It... just got out of hand. Even with a plan, we...
I...
[He clenches his fists against the ground, allowing himself a moment to be bitter.]
This wasn't what I asked for. They're all trying their hardest. All of you.
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Vakama you've really... got a lot going on. Between all this and the way you went out of your way to save me when you really shouldn't have... you're definitely the main character in your story.
[Is this a compliment? Unclear.]
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Once more his form flickers back to that of his Toa self, hand outstretched.
--We focus too much on how our powers can harm, brothers. Please, let us not forget what capabilities it has to heal--
It's not much on his own, and hardly anything to help repair the actual damage. But the pain will lessen from the fracture for the time being.]
Fukuda... [A quiet laugh, humorless and tired.] Please don't joke in such a way. I'm... just myself. I never asked for this. I never wanted to be a hero.
I just want to do what my heart knows is right.
[It seems like an empty statement after it all, echo eaten into the void, where the stars of the sky seem to black out in response, two glorious suns eclipsing as though the universe has shut its eyes to their efforts.]
And yet...
[You failed.
You fled.
The darkness evaporates back into the sound of a violent sea crashes in their ears, surrounded by darkened rock pitted by centuries of waves. A body, golden and feeble and frail, ricochets past them in the dark with a trail of dark energy, immediately drawing Vakama's attention with a choke of distress.
To the ends of the silver sea, leaving your people behind. Suffering for sake of your
COWARDICE.
Fukuda will see an enormous claw of shadow reaching out beyond the sea like a giant swatting a fly, intent on smashing them both against the sea wall.]
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cw: suicidal ideation until they get off of this topic rip sorry flatview
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cw: references to self harm
1/3 rings the bell, yahoo another for the furry fest
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3/3 cw: body horror
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1/2 fukuda just speeding through this through the power of "hell yeah it's just a dream"
2/2
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