"Hard-ground entrance is blocked." It's a muttering from Matau, who looks absolutely exhausted and has to be helped to his feet by another. "We will have to use the test track emergency hatch. It's a short high-climb."
Though some take the time to check on one another in quiet tones, armors of blue and green and white and bronze and black, there is one who seems to be notedly absent. The armor of red, the Toa of Fire, who's already many paces ahead, waiting for his team to catch up, a narrowed look in his eyes that speaks mountains for what does not emerge from his mouth. Impatience.
It's an awkward trip made in silence; down the enormous ruined passageways, up a ladder that was barely hanging together, up into a tube lined with broken lights and glass, mechanisms to record speed and temperature, great fans that prop up at the distant end. A test track, for vehicles, meant to put crafts through as many hardships as possible for testing of durability.
Matau leads the way up, wrenching open the emergency hatch and crawling through, followed by Nuju. There's some distant chatter from above as Vakama tries to gesture the rest to hurry up, taking the rear.
"Look, brother - even in this dark-time, the stars keep shining. I don't think I've ever seen so many, even from Po-Metru. Isn't it beautiful?"
"---Get back inside!" It's a snap from Nuju, and forward progress is immediately halted as Matau is practically thrown back down the ladder. Those still on the ladder shout protest as they let go, sliding or tumbling back to the ground.
"Those aren't thousands of stars looking down upon us, brother," Nuju hisses, jumping back down with the hatch slamming shut behind him. "Those are eyes!"
Vakama is the first immediately scrambling back up the ladder to take a look for himself, Whenua right behind him. A long moment of tension stretches, as Whenua's mask lights up with a flicker to his eyes - a mask power, one that gives him far better vision than the rest of them.
Thousands and thousands of eyes. Thousands and thousands of legs. Chattering teeth that seem to move within the huge masses of webbing and rock with odd delicacy.
"Gukko birds?" asked Matau, hopefully. "No." "Stone rats? Ussal crabs? Really big protodites?" Whenua's expression scrunches up, looking back at Matau. "No, no, and what are you thinking?"
"Then what are they?" It's a demand more than a question from Vakama. "Why are they up there watching this place?"
Whenua's mask triggers off, but he doesn't respond, looking at the Toa of Fire and then looking away as he slides back down the ladder. Vakama lets out a sound of irritation at the move, but follows suit, crossing his arms in front of him and staring his fellow Toa down for an explanation.
"Vakama... they are Visorak. They're sitting on the webs they created. They're waiting us out, knowing we have to come out sometime."
"Visorak?" A parroting, hollow and with a brief disbelief, one that quickly turns to indignation. "Wait -- wait, no -- Onewa used that term on our journey back to the city, when his mind was controlled by that strange parasite. If you knew the name this whole time, why didn't you say so then?"
"I-I didn't make the connection." Whenua's gone quiet, backing up slightly, talking more with his hands than anything else. "It’s an obscure reference. I saw a portion of a carving once, long ago, that contained the name, but it took actually seeing them and their webs to --"
"You’re an archivist!" It's an explosive, immediate raising of voice from Vakama, advancing right up to the retreating Toa of Earth. "You are supposed to be able to identify the Rahi we run up against! Otherwise, what good are you?"
The entire group goes quiet. Whenua, stunned and hurt, says nothing.
It's Onewa whose face twists the fastest with anger in retaliation, nearly jumping to his feet to shove in front of Whenua.
"Hey. If we had turned back when the storm started, or sent a scouting party like I suggested, we wouldn't be in this mess. But you were in such a hurry to get back here so we could leave again that--"
"I am in a hurry to save the Matoran, just as you should be,” Vakama shoots back. "I made a promise to Toa Lhikan, and I, at least, intend to keep it."
"Did you make that promise when you let him get captured, or when he died saving your mask?"
Vakama stiffens immediately, and the Toa of Stone's eyes only sharpen. "I am starting to think it is not very healthy to be your friend."
"Far healthier than being my enemy." The air starts to heat, and Vakama's hands and arms start to swirl with fire, at the protest of several of the others. "If you have a problem with me or my leadership, carver, let's hear it."
Onewa doesn't even flinch at the threat, striding right up to practically spit in Vakama's face. "I have a problem with you, your leadership, your attitude, and your akilini-headed idea that only you have to live up to the legacy of Lhikan. We all do! We all have friends lying in Makuta-sleep under the Coliseum, and we all want to save them! We all know the price of failure! So get down off your Toa statue before I knock you down!”
Nokama attempts to walk forward and intervene, her own weapons drawing. But Onewa shoves himself back a step, his own weapons drawn. "I will fight alongside anyone – Toa, Rahi, Vahki, even the Dark Hunters themselves – to save the Matoran," spits out the Toa of Stone. "But Makuta take me if I will be a sidekick to a firespitter who still can't find his way out of a forge!"
If anyone else moves to break it up, it is lost within a verbal mess of noise, of Vakama advancing as Onewa follows suit with the swing of his weapon--]
[The moment is immediately lost as the memory dissolves, then snaps right back into the debris. Picking one another up, in the broken down transport hub. Vakama's expression is just as cold, just as impatient.]
cw: arachnophobia
[The memory plays once, fully, in a firm state of uninterrupted continuity.]
[Metal and glass and stone crunches underfoot, webs of green hanging overhead in thick, messy strands that stretch to almost every building. A team of six regroups under the broken eaves of what used to be some sort of transport loading hub, trying to pick each other up off the ground.
"Let’s get out of this place." Curt, to the point, as Nuju is tend to do.
"Hard-ground entrance is blocked." It's a muttering from Matau, who looks absolutely exhausted and has to be helped to his feet by another. "We will have to use the test track emergency hatch. It's a short high-climb."
Though some take the time to check on one another in quiet tones, armors of blue and green and white and bronze and black, there is one who seems to be notedly absent. The armor of red, the Toa of Fire, who's already many paces ahead, waiting for his team to catch up, a narrowed look in his eyes that speaks mountains for what does not emerge from his mouth. Impatience.
It's an awkward trip made in silence; down the enormous ruined passageways, up a ladder that was barely hanging together, up into a tube lined with broken lights and glass, mechanisms to record speed and temperature, great fans that prop up at the distant end. A test track, for vehicles, meant to put crafts through as many hardships as possible for testing of durability.
Matau leads the way up, wrenching open the emergency hatch and crawling through, followed by Nuju. There's some distant chatter from above as Vakama tries to gesture the rest to hurry up, taking the rear.
"Look, brother - even in this dark-time, the stars keep shining. I don't think I've ever seen so many, even from Po-Metru. Isn't it beautiful?"
"---Get back inside!" It's a snap from Nuju, and forward progress is immediately halted as Matau is practically thrown back down the ladder. Those still on the ladder shout protest as they let go, sliding or tumbling back to the ground.
"Those aren't thousands of stars looking down upon us, brother," Nuju hisses, jumping back down with the hatch slamming shut behind him. "Those are eyes!"
Vakama is the first immediately scrambling back up the ladder to take a look for himself, Whenua right behind him. A long moment of tension stretches, as Whenua's mask lights up with a flicker to his eyes - a mask power, one that gives him far better vision than the rest of them.
Thousands and thousands of eyes. Thousands and thousands of legs. Chattering teeth that seem to move within the huge masses of webbing and rock with odd delicacy.
"Gukko birds?" asked Matau, hopefully.
"No."
"Stone rats? Ussal crabs? Really big protodites?"
Whenua's expression scrunches up, looking back at Matau. "No, no, and what are you thinking?"
"Then what are they?" It's a demand more than a question from Vakama. "Why are they up there watching this place?"
Whenua's mask triggers off, but he doesn't respond, looking at the Toa of Fire and then looking away as he slides back down the ladder. Vakama lets out a sound of irritation at the move, but follows suit, crossing his arms in front of him and staring his fellow Toa down for an explanation.
"Vakama... they are Visorak. They're sitting on the webs they created. They're waiting us out, knowing we have to come out sometime."
"Visorak?" A parroting, hollow and with a brief disbelief, one that quickly turns to indignation. "Wait -- wait, no -- Onewa used that term on our journey back to the city, when his mind was controlled by that strange parasite. If you knew the name this whole time, why didn't you say so then?"
"I-I didn't make the connection." Whenua's gone quiet, backing up slightly, talking more with his hands than anything else. "It’s an obscure reference. I saw a portion
of a carving once, long ago, that contained the name, but it took actually seeing them and their webs to --"
"You’re an archivist!" It's an explosive, immediate raising of voice from Vakama, advancing right up to the retreating Toa of Earth. "You are supposed to be able to identify the Rahi we run up against! Otherwise, what good are you?"
The entire group goes quiet. Whenua, stunned and hurt, says nothing.
It's Onewa whose face twists the fastest with anger in retaliation, nearly jumping to his feet to shove in front of Whenua.
"Hey. If we had turned back when the storm started, or sent a scouting party like I suggested, we wouldn't be in this mess. But you were in such a hurry to get back here so we could leave again that--"
"I am in a hurry to save the Matoran, just as you should be,” Vakama shoots back. "I made a promise to Toa Lhikan, and I, at least, intend to keep it."
"Did you make that promise when you let him get captured, or when he died saving your mask?"
Vakama stiffens immediately, and the Toa of Stone's eyes only sharpen. "I am starting to think it is not very healthy to be your friend."
"Far healthier than being my enemy." The air starts to heat, and Vakama's hands and arms start to swirl with fire, at the protest of several of the others. "If you have a problem with me or my leadership, carver, let's hear it."
Onewa doesn't even flinch at the threat, striding right up to practically spit in Vakama's face. "I have a problem with you, your leadership, your attitude, and your akilini-headed idea that only you have to live up to the legacy of Lhikan. We all do! We all have friends lying in Makuta-sleep under the Coliseum, and we all want to save them! We all know the price of failure! So get down off your Toa statue before I knock you down!”
Nokama attempts to walk forward and intervene, her own weapons drawing. But Onewa shoves himself back a step, his own weapons drawn. "I will fight alongside anyone – Toa, Rahi, Vahki, even the Dark Hunters themselves – to save the Matoran," spits out the Toa of Stone. "But Makuta take me if I will be a sidekick to a firespitter who still can't find his way out of a forge!"
If anyone else moves to break it up, it is lost within a verbal mess of noise, of Vakama advancing as Onewa follows suit with the swing of his weapon--]
[The moment is immediately lost as the memory dissolves, then snaps right back into the debris. Picking one another up, in the broken down transport hub. Vakama's expression is just as cold, just as impatient.]