2015 - Nichts ist gleich: Mo' Armour, Mo' Problems

There exists, somewhere in the multiverse, a world filled with biomechanical beings. These beings are protected by the mighty heroes known as the Toa, each a living embodiment of an aspect of nature.

Our story does not take place on this planet.

Instead, this story takes place on a planet that, to look at it’s chief inhabitants, one would think they took the denizens of the first one and dropped them into a Saturday morning cartoon made for five year olds, which then promptly spat them out into an armoury meant for bending warriors from Asia, from which they stumbled groggily into an island-wide spider nest. This planet did not possess Toa to begin with, instead having to request them from other planets altogether, one each from a separate elemental world. Exploring the worlds these warriors originated from would doubtlessly be a much more interesting story, but we’ve all gotta make do with what we have.

We join these hero rip-offs just as they are touching down. For the purposes of the narrative, let’s all imagine they came down in meteors, a la Spore, and join them a little after they landed...

Tahu staggered from the meteor’s remains, feeling all kinds of messed up. Next time he had to ship off to another planet, he was insisting on a proper spacefaring vessel, tradition be damned to Karzhani and back. Still, he supposed it could be worse. His weapons had been melted and fused to his armour by the intense heat, and crashing on that beach hadn’t helped, but at least it looked cool even if it was heavy and awkward. A cursory check of his face revealed that his mask had escaped melting, but it felt different. New and disquieting shape completely aside, it was putting out a weird energy that was screwing with his head instead of the half-active protective field that Hau masks were supposed to when their powers weren’t being accessed directly. He still had his ultimate goal in mind - Protecting the Matoran of this planet - but he felt a strange compulsive need to be all dramatic and showy and argue incessantly with beings in white armour. He grunted, shook his head and started for the fiery side of the island. Friggin island. This sh*t would never happen on Ignis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gali was irritated. The heat from entry into Okoto’s atmosphere had warped her armour and melted her weapons, she couldn’t breathe underwater anymore, and whatever weird energy had messed with her mask had also taken away her sense of humour. At least she could still swim, as she was currently proving in the clear blue waters off the Okoto coast. The sooner I find the Ga village, the sooner I can request a repair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a lot to so much as mildly annoy Kopaka. But right now he was well and truly hacked off. His sense of direction was completely shot, his scope was barely working and he couldn’t manage so much as an icicle without feeling like he’d just hefted a boulder with one hand. His ‘new’ armour was much to gaudy for his tastes, though he did accept that the extra layer or two of protection could come in handy against whatever it was that these islanders faced regularly. It probably wouldn’t last two seconds, but he’d take what he could get.

Now where in Karzhani was the ice village around here?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Pohatu was of two minds about his new form. On the one hand, the boomerangs were pretty awesome. On the other, he’d developed an irrational fear of the dark and a desire to be antisocial, which warred with his previous friendly attitude. So, he was out in the arid area of the island, trying valiantly to kick these habits and failing. The lack of super speed was also a total downer, but he could worry about that later. So far, he’d managed to attain a reasonable amount of skill with his boomerangs fighting off some weird spider things, and he was now working on getting his speed up in his new form.

A gleam of light on the night horizon caught his eye. The Po-matoran settlement? Only one way to find out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lewa was a strange little jibblit, it must be said. He was an airhead even by the standards of the Air Tribe planet from which he originated. The meteor he arrived in did not help this attitude as he swung through the jungle part of Okoto.

Okay, tree-vine-tree-creeper-tree-OMAGAWD WHAT IS THAT FREAKY SPIDER THING GITOUTGITOUT!

A combined blast of air and vines later and he was on his way again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Onua was concerned. He had been mostly unaffected by the meteor’s strange energy on landing, but he found himself dropping off at random moments, one of which sent his vastly larger body tumbling down a tunnel. It was little more than an annoyance at this point, but he feared what would happen if he dropped off in a battle, or if he toppled over onto one of the Matoran. But Onua was always one for focusing on the silver linings while acknowledging the clouds, and so he chose to focus on the fact that now that he was underground, he would be able to find the Onu-Matoran faster.

And possibly have some new weapons made. He really missed his quake-breakers.