legend-as-old-as-time

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Even More Bionicle Concept sketches

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Huh, that's a compelling relationship and headcanons!

Fuck it, Here’s How Pohatu and Miserix Probably Got Together

I’ll preface this by saying that I very much vibe with @kanohivolitakk’s reading of Miserix in this post. TL;DR: Miserix as a character is deeply tied to his Duty. Teridax usurping him essentially broke him so bad that all he had left was his anger at Teridax and the rest of the Brotherhood, essentially making his new purpose to wipe them out.

Building from that post, we know Miserix never got his chance to take his revenge on Teridax, so this new vengeance-filled purpose was also taken away from him, and he doesn’t even have his anger left anymore. So following Spherus Magna’s reformation, it probably caused his mental state to take a further nosedive, probably leading to isolation.

As for Pohatu, I imagine he heard about Miserix from Lewa or one of the others Velika failed to kill on Bota Magna. Finding out that Miserix is basically the only remaining Makuta that isn’t pure evil made Pohatu wonder if maybe he could be convinced to help with the rebuild. So he sets out to find Miserix.

Like with his first couple interactions with Kopaka, Miserix wanted nothing to do with him and tried to get him to leave so he could just be left alone. As one can probably assume, Pohatu stayed.

Miserix finally ended up caving just so he would be left alone, though subconsciously he also did it because maybe having something to do would probably be good to take his mind off of his issues.

So with Pohatu’s stone powers and creative application of Miserix’s Kraata powers, they got to work on trying to build settlements for displaced inhabitants of the MU.

And you know what? Miserix actually grew to like it. It felt like he had a purpose again, a Duty again, and while it might not’ve been being the Brotherhood’s leader, in some ways it felt close enough to it.

Perhaps as a consequence, he actually began warming up to Pohatu as they worked together, and while not too terribly open with his issues, Pohatu managed to whittle down some of his walls a bit. It definitely helped that Pohatu played a role in him finding a Duty again.

After awhile, Miserix started developing… strange feelings when around Pohatu that he had never felt before and didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t until some Agori that were helping with the rebuild noticed and talked to him that he learned that it was a feeling the Agori called “love”.

Miserix was closer to his pre-imprisonment self now, so he was cautious about this “love” until he understood it and what Pohatu’s reaction to it would be better.

On the flipside, Pohatu had some familiarity with the concept of “love” given Hewkii and Macku, so he understood what kind of feelings he was developing as Miserix helped the inhabitants of the MU integrate into Spherus Magna.

Pohatu, being someone who wears his metaphorical heart on his sleeve, didn’t take long to tell Miserix about this, which surprised the Brotherhood’s former leader.

They ultimately elected to take things slow and see where it took them from there.

And that’s all my thoughts on how those two would work, at least for now.

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I think gresh gelu and kiina should form wairuha. For shits and giggles

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Pohatu disappears into the side of a mountain after hearing about some weird cryptid sightings and returns with a giant dragon boyfriend. Tahu's like "what the fuck is that" and he just goes "that's my buddy :)" while Miserix looms very politely behind him.

You get it anon, I imagine this is exactly how it went lol. The other Nuva are definitely reacting with varying degrees of “WTF” aside from maybe Lewa, who probably finds it hilarious. As an aside I can also imagine Miserix helping Tahu train with the Kraata powers the Golden Armor gave him.

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Do you ever think about Time Trap a little too hard, and feel a burning need to hug Vakama?

[legend-as-old-as-time]

tags by @crystaltoa

So walking along a trail a thought struck me. Did the Toa Metru not know their masks? They seem genuinely shocked (with one exception) about their mask powers, but I feel like some of them would at least have an idea.

Matau: This one is probably the least surprising. Why would he know at all?

Nuju: Not a part of his hyperfixation. He could have found it out, but why would he ever need that information?

Nokama: This is probably the weirdest one to me. She's a teacher actively imparting knowledge. I can't help but imagine using her mask as an example in like kanohi history. Best guess at this point is that it's not her area of expertise, but still seems odd.

Whenua: He knows. That man has probably cataloged the kanohi exhibit of the archives like 3 times. There's no way he doesn't know what a great Ruru looks like. My interpretation however is that he never thought it was useful, so why bring it up. The shock he got when it activated wasn't at its power, but at the actually utility.

Vakama: He knew everyone's mask power frame 1. You don't spend years forging masks and not knowing what a great Huna looks like. Of course though he was too nervous to mention this with the visions and everything.

Onewa: Similar to Nuju in that he could find out what it was if he wanted to, but why would he? Though most importantly he's the one who figures out that Vakama knew. I imagine either on the way to Mata Nui or back. The question gets asked. You're a mask maker, did you know? And from a nervous yes from Vakama, Onewa contemplates, not for the first time, throwing his leader overboard.

[legend-as-old-as-time]

!!! So many interesting headcanons!! *dives into reading again*

Ta-Matoran HC Diets - REPOST

PLEASE READ: There's probably some confusion as to why no one could find this post...well, the short version is, it was a casualty when I was cleaning out my old drafts, but instead of being in the "drafts" mass editor section, I was in the "posts" section...and deleted. So. Many. Posts. Without realizing till it was too late. I'm STILL so mad about that.

Thankfully this was saved in a Word document, and I just got a comment asking about it from the original requester! So here it is again! HUGE apologies for any confusion, I did not delete this on purpose, it was such a stupid mistake of being in the WRONG SECTION during spring cleaning. Ugh...

Anyways, enjoy!

This continuation goes out to @lordjasonryder, who requested Ta dietary and culinary headcanons! These particular HCs expand more into their farming and cultivation habits and trade as well!

The Ta-Matoran and fire tribe are perhaps regarded as one of the staple tribes for cuisine, soil treatment, and creative cooking methods. Under the cut since it's long!

HCs regarding the Ta-Matoran diet, trade, and crops can be found under the cut!

The Ta tribe is responsible for perhaps the largest production of fertile soil on Mata-nui. Their close quarter to a volcano gives them prime real-estate access to some of the richest soil on the island, as well as resources to artificially create and customize soil types for specific crops and plants, of which they sell to the other five tribes.

Lava Farming is not just utilized for harvesting metal-rich lava for crafting tools and other metal-smithing material; it’s also the key to the largest contribution of fertile soil. Very small lava trenches are dug out and lead to compost pits to be carefully and strategically burned and mixed with a base soil to create different kinds of soil that is usually reserved for crops.

Because of their proximity to such good soil, the Ta people have some of the richest crops around, but their fields are small due to a not having a close and consistent water source.

The Ta region works closely with the Onu tribe bio-engineers and chemists to coordinate and formulate various soil recipes that cater to different crops. From soil to give the biggest wheat yield, to more gentle soils for house plants, the soil industry is theorized to have been the root of many treaties between the Onu and Ta tribes throughout history.

In relation to their soil cultivation, the Ta-Matoran Lava Farmers will often have experience and training in crop-wide burnings and will offer this service to farmers outside their own region.

This part of their occupation is defined as a Ta-Matoran as “having received training to create, redirect, start and stop controlled burns exclusive to crop lands to enhance the bounty of the soil without causing damages or harm to nearby structures and individuals (Matoran or Rahi or flora not prescribed for burning).”

These prescribed crop burns are almost exclusively run by the Lava Farmers due to their experience in carefully managing controlled burns and soil quality control. If a farmer in or outside the Ta region have fields that need rejuvenating and nutrients reintroduced back into the soil, you go to the Lava Farmers and coordinate a prescribed burn.

Prescribed burns are also given to forests that are becoming too crowded or even diseased, but it is more often used for farmlands. Lava Farming is far from all Lava Farmers do.

The Ta tribe is famous for their pepper plantations, which make up roughly 40% of their cropland. They are rivaled only by the Ga and Ko tribes for their tolerance for spicy foods. Supposedly their unrivaled peppers gain their signature heat due to being planted so close to the volcano (some might good-naturedly argue it’s because they take on their planter’s personality).

Ironically enough, the majority of their peppers are sweet (similar to bell peppers), while perhaps a quarter of their peppers are hot, spicy, or both.

Their hottest pepper – The Kanohi Dragon’s Tongue, or sometimes called Kurahk’s Heart – is a vivid purple and has a Scoville unit score of over 22 billion. It gets its name for its long, tongue-like shape with a split tip, and the fact that it’s been compared to a Kanohi Dragon’s fire. Its secondary name is colloquial and came about when a taster compared it to the wrath of the Rahkshi, Kurahk.

There are at least a dozen pepper varieties exclusive to the Ta region of Mata-nui, but there also exists a fair few other Ta regions outside of Mata-nui that also have their own exclusive pepper genus’.

Though it has been tried in the past, these region-exclusive peppers cannot be grown outside of the Ta regions; specifically, they cannot thrive in anything but pure volcanic soil. Attempts to grow them in anything else or even relocated volcanic soil have resulted in the crop dying after its first sprout. No one is entirely sure why this is as, despite mimicking a volcanic environment near perfectly, they never thrive.

Due to the above issue, many laws have been passed that protect these pepper crops. It is illegal to transport a live pepper plant exclusive to the Ta region, and it is illegal to try and plant the peppers, their seeds, or a relocated plan or trimming outside the Ta region. Due to their exclusivity, the peppers themselves are very scarce, and are now almost entirely reliant on Matoran cultivation to even grow. Very few of these peppers are found in the wild now due to generations of manmade cultivation.

Perhaps second only to their soil cultivation is the Ta region’s meat smoking. Many would argue that no one does smoked meats like the Ta tribe, and they are perhaps rivaled only by their Ko and Ga neighbors.

Ta smoking is considered its own science and is taken just as seriously as mathematical formulas and mask/tool making. Spices, herbs, rubs, marinades, fruits and vegetables, wood types, coal use, drying techniques, even the type of smoker and smokehouse used are taken into heavy consideration for smoking and preserving.

Every smokehouse in the Ta region keeps their recipes under heavy lock and key, and the only way one will ever learn these recipes is if the smokers pass the recipes down to their children, close relatives, or (though rarely) a trusted successor outside the immediate family. Not a single smoke house has the same smoking recipe, and it is considered a great offence if it is suspected someone is trying to mimic or even steal a recipe or method.

A smokehouse can even take another to a legal battle if they suspect they are trying to mimic or steal a recipe or technique, and the accusation will be taken seriously. There is a whole legal category for these particular and similar situations.

Of course, there are “common” means of smoking simple meats, which is shared across the industry. These techniques are unanimously agreed upon as being “open secret” recipes and methods, and therefore cannot be contested as being stolen or mimicked.

There is a sense of community and even loyal patriotism among the smoking community, and in fact, it is considered an insult if you go to anyone but your regular smokehouse. Exception is given if you are given a recommendation by the smokehouse owner to go to another one if you are looking for something very specific, or if they are completely sold out and you need this meat quick.

If you go to another smokehouse without this unofficial blessing, that smokehouse will do one of two things: they will either not serve you, or if they do, they will tell your regular place that you “cheated”, and odds are, that establishment will never serve you again. The Ta-Matoran smokehouses take their trade VERY seriously, and a grudge can be held for generations to come.

When it comes to smoking and preserving, there is a heavy and (mostly) friendly rivalry going on between the Ta and Ko tribes, both who pride themselves on their meat preservation and quality.

Ta-Matoran have an extremely high tolerance for heat and spice (these two flavor profiles are considered exclusive but can work in combination, but they are two distinct profiles) but interestingly enough, most Ta-Matoran will prefer savory, sweet, or even mildly flavored food over spicy or hot.

Ta-Matoran take spices very seriously, especially if the spices came from their region.

Dried peppers, pepper flakes, powders, soup/stew bases, rubs, marinades, teas and other spice blends all undergo heavy quality control after harvesting and during processing and are grown in their region alongside their peppers.

Most of their cultivation income comes from the import and selling of individual or bulk peppers and certain spices.

Few of their herbs and spices are used in medicines, but there is a niche market for a few of their “hot” herbs to help with chills and low body temperatures.

Ta-Matoran primarily roast, bake, grill, or smoke their food.

The famous method of Ta-Matoran kiln baking is unmatched across Mata-nui. Ta-Matoran construct their own stone kilns as part of a semi-outdoor kitchen. These kilns will cook anything from bakery items, to meats, stews, skillet dishes, and husk-wrapped dishes.

Similar to the Tamale, Ta-Matoran have a common staple food that requires the husk of a plant (usually a corn husk, hardy palm husk, or coconut husk) stuffed with meat, vegetables, spices and herbs, and set into a hot kiln just along the edge to cook over a few minutes to a few hours depending on the content and husk.

All three meal types can be made in these husks: Eggs and sausage for breakfast, vegetables and lean meat for lunch, and any mix-and-match variety for dinner. Desserts can even be made in them by stuffing the husks with berries and other fruits with sugar and cinnamon!

Pit baking is commonly used by the Ta-Matoran, though it is generally only done when a Matoran is feeding multiple people or hosting a party or event. Pit baking requires a large pit, as its name suggests, and a lot of hot coals. It also requires a large and often very heavy cast iron pot with a lid to put food in and keep dirt out. Pit baking takes hours in this way, but smaller pit baking equipment can be purchased or commissioned for personal use; cooking time is significantly shorter in this case.

No Ta-Matoran home is complete without at least one pit grill. These grills are composed of two parts: a medium to large, shallow pit for coals and firewood, and a grill grate that will fit over it without falling in. These grills are either round or rectangular in shape to make flipping and shifting food easier. Most of the pits are made of stone brick, but for a smaller home, pits crafted from hammered metal can be purchased so they can be moved and stored. These pits can have their grates removed and stored if they want a good old-fashioned bonfire.

Meat might be the preferred staple of the Ta-Matoran, but vegetables and fruits are not absent from their diets.

Ta-Matoran generally rely on other tribes to trade a variety of fruits and vegetables to maintain healthy bodies.

With croplands primarily focused on their pepper plantations, planting and growing of other crops is secondary, so they use their peppers, soil, and quality meats and spices to trade for proper ruffage and fruits.

Food trade-off between the Ta-Matoran and other tribes include but are not limited to…

Dried and fresh fish, shellfish, crustaceans, and salt from the Ko and Ga tribes.

Wheat/flour, alcohol, dairy and Rahi feed from the Po tribe.

Fruits, vegetables, vegetable oil, and sugar from the Le tribe.

Ta-Matoran do not have the same raging metabolism as Ko-Matoran, but theirs is constantly running at a steady and gradual pace that makes it difficult for a Ta to maintain fat and muscle density.

As such, dairy is perhaps a Ta-Matoran’s best friend next to meat and spice. Milk, cheese, yogurt, and other dairy products are generally traded heavily to the Ta tribes.

Perhaps due to the severity in demand for high-fat dairy, Ta-Matoran have taken the next step and learned how to create, preserve, press, dry, and store various kinds of cheese. Very few Matoran outside the Ta tribe will willingly try a piece of cheese covered in a thick layer of protective mold and packed with enough spices to kill 99.999% of all bacteria in it.

Ta-Matoran LOVE their cows (aka the Mukau, aka the Mata-nui Cow)! Due to the versatility of food produced from this Rahi – from meat to dairy and much desired leather – it is considered a sacred Rahi and, outside of being properly raised for its food and leather, cannot be harmed without consequences.

Mukau are raised in a similar fashion to the cows in Kobe; they are given the best food, quiet and vast pastures, the best veterinarian care, and are treated almost like family members until they are ready for slaughter.

Ta-Matoran beef, like Kobe beef, is heavily sought after, very expensive, and very rare.

Many who are not familiar with the Ta tribe would be surprised to find that Ta-Matoran are lightweights.

Alcohol was never a huge staple to the Ta tribe, unlike the Po, Ko, and Le tribes. Likely this is a result of both caution and a naturally low tolerance for alcohol.

Because of their consistent metabolisms and hotter bodies, as well as a few genetic attributes (similar to a aldehyde dehydrogenase deficiency) that make drinking a possibly deadly process.

But for times when drinking is expected and anticipated, Ta-Matoran prefer the more rugged flavors of beer, ale, mead, and occasionally whiskey.

Interestingly enough, Ta Toa do not face the same dangers as a Ta-Matoran, but generally experience intoxication much more quickly than most.

Ta Toa generally don’t mind too much, as their ability to increase and decrease their body heat and, to a small degree, alter their own metabolisms can help them to speed run them through a hangover, or better yet, sober up near instantly.

Bars and other alcoholic establishments will hold a strike policy for Ta Toa; if a Ta causes three or more fires in their establishment due to intoxication, they’re banned.

While alcohol is not generally consumed on its own in most Ta regions, it is heavily used in cooking! Very few would argue that a good beer in a spicy stew can’t fix a bad day; same goes for a Ta beer-batter fry-up!

No other region makes cooking equipment like the Ta-Matoran do. Creating cookware is just as, if not more, respected as mask-making and requires the same level of experience and knowledge as mask-making.

The woks used by the Ga and Ko tribe are almost all Ta-Matoran made, and despite any rivalries, a Ga and Ko will go to great lengths to commission a custom wok for their home should the old one no longer be useable (which in itself is unlikely if it was Ta-made)

Their cast-iron ware is rumored to last millennium, and this has been very nearly proven as Onu-Matoran have dug up ancient cast iron wares that were still perfectly useable after a thorough cleaning.

Like many artisans, many commissioned works can be identified by a subtle, easily missed mark (take notes Hafu) from their creator; a good owner will locate this mark upon purchase and commit it to memory in the event the item needs to be replaced, or they want more from that creator. This mark is usually a one-of-a-kind seal hammed into the item on its bottom or hidden by a handle or under a lid ledge.

Ta-made knives are perhaps considered some of the best quality for both cooking and as a general tool and weapon. They are only rivaled by the Fe tribe.

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<3 <3

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Honestly this video is really good, not just for DND players but also for writing in general (but in this case writing for bonkle content). I’d highly recommend it for people in the fandom who are making fancontent: ESPECIALLY if you’re doing content with the style and tone of 2005 onwards. It’s basically very TTRPG esque anyway

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugJYQZd1W-I

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One thing I really like about Makuta's movie design is the lack of a heartlight. It's a very simple detail, easy to miss, easy to not make a big deal out of it. But also that could be a very significant choice on the part of the designers. It works for Teridax of course, he's literally heartless, but I often think about if the same would be true for the other Makuta as well. They do have life-force, but they're not the same kind of creature as anything else in the MU, just sentient energy-gas contained in mechanical armour. They don't have biological processes for a heartlight to indicate. Maybe they once did, when they were biomechs like everything else, but after their evolution those little system-function lights were removed for being extraneous. But then, we know from Teridax assuming Dume's form that Makuta can shapeshift to have heartlights, so it could be down to personal choice which still present one and which don't bother with it or actively choose not to have one in a display of strength.

And of course all of this is further complicated by the dubious canonicity of heartlights to begin with. The movies have them, some of the books mention them, but the sets never did, so we're left guessing about them a lot of the time. But I don't know, assuming we can count them as canon and something that would be present in most MU species (Nidhiki, Krekka, and Sidorak all have them in the movies, and I can't really tell for Roodaka. There might be something there in the cavity that gets filled with the Makuta Stone? Oh and the Turaga Metru don't have them, for some reason[??] Lhikan and Dume do though) Makuta not typically having them feels like that much more keen attention to detail.

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Nokama's six* lying wives. and yes, they're all lying liars who lie

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(Warning- Bionicle thoughts ahead) You know, in retrospect it's funny that Makuta's plot for a thousand years was "give local animals rabies and sic them on the population" given that all that time the Rahaga, were basically just down the street from same population. Did Vakama and the Turaga ever consider trying to make contact and asking them for help? I mean, Makuta set up shop in the tunnel connecting Mata Nui and Metru Nui so making contact might be difficult, but still. We didn't know this since the Rahaga don't show up until 2005 and the whole thing with Makuta and his rabies masks was 2001 but still. Something I could consider writing, maybe? Vakama on a stealth mission to try and get help dealing with the giant scorpions and tank tread tigers from a bunch of little helicopter snake guys.

[legend-as-old-as-time]

"Lord Dume"

When the Lords of Order fell, a new Order was needed.

And so, in the early days of that conflict, the Toa themselves took up the title.

Since then, it is to be hoped, they have learned humility.

[legend-as-old-as-time]

saw the tweet screenshot in my saved files and had to draw them

[legend-as-old-as-time]

👀

He was taller than them.

Infinitely so.

They knew he wasn't that big - not compared to everything else around them, from the walls closing off his fortress to the island it sat on, to the silvery sea around it or the body it was still housed within. He wasn't even that big compared to them, and they knew that too: he was only about a bio taller than them, maybe a little more, maybe only half. A sizable, immediately noticeable difference, but it wasn't that much. It wasn't enough to make him appear so gargantuan and frightening. They had stood beside similarly large beings, and while a slight awe had made them queasy it had not been so oppressive.

But there was something about him that made him larger than life. Something that crawled out of him like white marble maggots from a white marble corpse, a strange perfect imperfection that made them feel minuscule.

Perhaps their incomplete number worsened it.

He watched them, impassive.

From how close they were to him (they could have walked up to him; they could have turned that small distance to zero and stood directly in front of him; but they didn't. They couldn't. Something inside them couldn't. Something inside them wouldn't.) they could notice that one of his eyes was not facing them: it was stuck halfway upwards, forever gazing into the sky, while the other continued to stare down at them without so much as a glint of emotion. Despite having all the appearance of a mistake on someone's part, that strange physical quirk had not been fixed. Evidently, it was not an anomaly.

"Good." Artakha said.

His voice held no warmth, no anger, no grief, no bitterness. It was clear and smooth, like polished crystal, and wholly pleasant in its completeness. Something about it almost had them recoil and flatten as if they had been just welcomed into a lethal trap of a lair by the famished growl of a gigantic drooling beast.

They had not expected he would have come to greet them himself. He never had before, delegating his disembodied words and the mechanisms of his fortress to do such a thing for him. Yet this time he had taken it upon himself to walk away from his chambers, from the pristine faintly hued greys that snaked behind him into the deeper parts of his small realm, to stand before them as he did now; in their arrogance, in their hope, they had thought upon coming back to their senses after the surprise of truly seeing him that it must have meant something.

But his tone was calm and empty, a white room with carefully set pastel toys, an environment so quiet and sterile that it smelled potently of the dust it looked to have been blanketed in.

In a strange way, it appalled them.

"You have come back to me." Artakha continued.

His mask glowed softly, golden and splendid. The runes deeply hetched upon it made it seem beyond ancient.

Against the barely visible backdrop of his reclusive kingdom, the glimmer distorted the kanohi into the garbled image of a small, sickly moon, incapable of offering all that sat around it the full strength of the light it could barely reflect.

He did not extend his arms towards them.

"Come now." Artakha ordered passionlessly. "Your work is done."

"There is no place for us in that world." Artakha cut him off.

Something about that shook them from the hazy torpor threatening to devour their brains in too small bites.

"We're here to help evacuate the inhabitants of the last remaining islands," Tahu explained, mortified that his voice was even leaving him and yet unable to place why he felt that way, "The robot's insides are not safe - besides, there's so much to be done outside, and we-"

He had not moved an inch.

They knew instinctively, uncomfortably, that his 'us' included them too.

"Our only purpose is here." Artakha stated. "We are not needed outside the bounds of this body."

"But there is life out there," Gali argued, though the mere act of speaking made her bones want to crumble in anguish to shut her up: "There are people who need us, who could use our help! There is so much to be rebuilt, and all of us-"

"You were made for this world, as was I." Artakha interrupted her.

Their lungs shriveled.

Their bodies hurt.

He remained unblemished in the face of their visible agony, perfect and still; his skewed eye ignored them as it continued to watch the now forever dimmed heavens, hanging lower and lower each day as the metal holding them aloft bent under the weight of age and abandonment.

"There is no such thing as a 'life' awaiting you in that world of real things." Artakha told them. "We are tools to be preserved: if your service will ever be needed again by Mata Nui, I will allow your deployment once more."

"And then?" Tahu coughed. He could swear his arms were melting off of him.

"Then you will return to me." Artakha answered. "As you have done now, because that is your purpose, and that is your only existence."

"And yours?" Gali hissed. Her head felt about to split into a thousand pieces.

"My purpose is to remain here and create, and see that you are used well." Artakha answered. "It is my only use; there is nothing other than this."

He spoke with the certainty of a man off to the gallows, the kind who knows well no dashing stranger or loyal friend will come to save him, and who thus accepts the coming execution with the mellow tiredness that brings the cattle into the slaughterhouse; but unlike the convict marked for death he held no sadness, no despair in his words, no roaring blasphemies nor tear-soaked regrets, not even that drowsy desire for it all to be done. He felt himself not a victim, and not like a victim he spoke, for that was not what he was.

He spoke like a machine that knew why it had been made, and that its function was now unnecessary. There was no poetry about it, and there was no injustice either. The world had begun with duty, and with this new lack of duty it would simply stop to one day begin again: he had known it would have happened since the start.

He had been made to wait until the lack of purpose passed, to one day be put to work again.

But they could not accept it.

They could not, because they were not him.

They were not machines. Not fully. Not anymore.

"We can't leave it all behind," Onua said softly, because his throat was coarse and dry as though burning inside his neck, "We have our Matoran to take care of - our Turaga, too - our friends, our-"

"You have nothing but your duty and yourselves." Artakha corrected him.

They flinched.

"As I have nothing but my duty and my creations." Artakha continued.

Few were aware that he had no brother anymore.

They did not inquire how he had come in possession of such information: beyond their inquiry being a waste of time, certainly it had not reached him in the same way it had them. Like for his reason of existence he simply seemed to have already known, somehow, that his only kin's death upon return would have been inevitable.

After all, one does not keep a broken instrument.

"We're not complete," Lewa fought back feebly, struggling through the tightness that threatened to crush his middle into a jagged heap, "Kopaka and Pohatu - they are-"

"They will come to me eventually, as you have done." Artakha sentenced. "And in the most dire of cases, I will simply make them once more."

The weak glow of his mask sent chills down their spines and almost sent them to their knees.

He had said it so carelessly. Without any inflection, any intonation, any difference in his speech. His voice had remained polished and clean, sanitized, pale colors melting into a greyish nothingness as though the images he conjured through them had not been nightmares woven into song.

He watched them as the contorted and writhed in place as composedly as they could, still slaves to the stilling awe he commanded. He did not blink.

"How many times have you made us?" Onua wheezed. Dark spots stole the sight from his eyes.

"For now, once." Artakha responded.

They wanted to cry.

They wanted to scream.

They wanted it to be over.

"We can't stay." Lewa breathed. He felt only an impossibly wide, horrible, biting cold.

The waves rocked behind them softly, gently, anchoring them to their bodies and selves as they struggled to so so on their own.

He remained unperturbed.

"Come now." Artakha only repeated. "You are to be preserved in sleep: that is my duty as well. You overshot your time active - two weeks had been calculated as the maximum amount it would have taken for you to deal with any issue; after all that has happened whilst you were awake, I assume this will be a... Pleasant... Change of pace."

(He said 'pleasant' strangely. As though he was using that word only out of politeness, without intention, without understanding it. As though the very concept behind it existing was alien to him.)

Then he turned, and walked through the open gate once more.

He did not look back when it became clear no other footsteps would have followed his own; he did not stop when the heavy entrance to his realm closed definitively behind him and he found his fortress once more lacking his most useful tools.

He walked to his chamber, passing the Matoran he had been given across the millennia: they worked in thoughtless silence, as Matoran were always meant to do, some repairing the signs of age upon the floors and walls, some taking materials to their rightful places, some finishing up the count of this or that's inventory, more still tinkering away much like he'd long been used to - perfect clanging cogs of a well-oiled clockwork. Soon enough they would complete their endless work, for nothing else would be there to be done; only then they would stop, and sit, and wait, in a blank torpor that fools might have called sleep, in order to be ready to return to their duties when their toiling would once again be required.

He arrived to the room (not the forge, not for now) and stood before his useless throne; there he stopped, and sat, and waited, staring forth with one eye as the other gazed upon the ceiling in a vaguely aware torpor, patiently existing in a stasis borne of lack of duty.

He was ready to remain for ages.

He had been made to, after all.

But movement distracted him.

A crooked thing walked into the chamber, smiling.

He recognized not the vessel, but the neutral miasma which slithered from its mangled form: it wriggled through the space around him like larvae burrowing in prey, used to permeating every mind it touched, and only regarded him curiously when it found him impervious to the complex, confusing charm of its ever winding workings.

"You." Artakha said dispassionately.

The crooked thing stood before him, smiling.

"There is nothing in this world for you." Artakha stated simply.

"The toys belong to the box, the box belongs to the child, and the child belongs to the parent."

"Leave my realm at once." Artakha insisted without animosity. "There is nothing for you here."

"In the smith's forge the furnace is indeed king amongst the tools, but a tool itself nonetheless."

"I am aware of myself and my duty, my eternity." Artakha spoke. "You cannot impede my function."

"Of course I can!"

He stiffened suddenly; his neck bent under the weight of his head and his body sagged where he sat. His chest convulsed briefly, just enough to push a murky liquid through his crevices, coating his body in blackened rivulets doomed to dry out.

His mask laid cracked and half made dust where it had fallen from his face.

He did not move.

The crooked thing turned, and walked through the door once more, smiling as it crept out of the fortress amongst heaps of stilled machines, crumpled into a pantomime of its mangled shape and silent even of their inner mechanical song, that until moments earlier had been so hard at work on maintaining the broken life-sized diorama of a bustling holy island.

[legend-as-old-as-time]

tags by OP (and eating the tags)

Bites my leg like a chicken tender. I should write about Artakha and the toa mata post-canon

[legend-as-old-as-time]

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