#check out my good friendooooo and if you can reblog his fin aid post thatd be baller

[randomwriteronline]

part of @cantankerouscanuck 's Bionicle/LU AU

The dream lingered before him, warm and confusing and sunny, just out of his reach. He could still feel the sand under his hands, the grass against his back, the sound of a song so close yet so far.

The cave was dark and damp, cold humidity seeping into his frame. Something pulsed somewhere behind him.

His unfocused eyes settled on a strange clump, some broken mess of blueish shards. A finger brushed against it: metal. Scraps of metal. He grasped them, turned them around as he pulled himself up into a kneel, dully recognizing a familiar curve, the hint of a socket. Where had he seen something like this, where, where...

Something pulsed somewhere behind him. Go, it seemed to say: Go. This is not your place.

He turned the shards in his palm again. So familiar. So familiar... Where had he seen such a thing, where, where... He laid them together carefully, composing them as one might a puzzle.

He stopped halfway through.

What remained of his mask gazed back with empty sockets.

Go, something pulsed somewhere behind him. Go, little one: this is not your place.

Legend stared at the shattered visage.

He reached up: carefully shaped metal met his fingertips. A mask. Another mask.

Go. This is not your place.

He stumbled to his feet: a light beckoned him forward, out, far away from the something pulsing somewhere behind him. He followed it, legs heavy, brain muddled, until the cave gave way to a sharp dark beach, all rocks and jagged terrain.

Only the sea around him.

A gust of wind passed through him.

His foot kicked at the ground, causing a rock to rocket across the barren shore of the real Koholint Island - nothing like the gentle paradise he'd come to know, the world before the Visorak emptied it of life, of color, of music.

The pebble splashed into a little pond created by the low tide.

He walked over to it. What was he supposed to do anyways? He wasn't going to leave. He wasn't going to ever leave. He wasn't going to ever manage to. He had no hope of ever doing so. He was stuck here, now, forever, with no chance of escaping.

The water in the pond was clear, silvery, like a mirror of sorts. Replying to his gaze he found a discolored red Mask of Kindred, sitting on his face like it had been made for it.

He touched it again - much more carefully. More fondly.

This couldn't be... It wasn't, was it now?

No, no, there was no way.

There was simply no way.

If he'd been built with the ability to cry, he would have started by now. It would have begun with a few stray tears he couldn't hold back, then an attempt at stifling them, and then his throat would have unclogged with a harsh sob and saltwater would streaked his metal cheeks, rusting him to death.

As it was, his eyes just sizzled painfully.

What a sick joke.

What a cruel thing to do.

Her mask, on him. Keeping him alive.

Distantly, the musings of his old Turaga reached his mind again - only vague words, kind and comforting: something about Kanohi holding the spirit of the wearer, how some carry it even after death.

If he concentrated, if he really, truly did, maybe...

She had dreamed of leaving. Of flying off, into the open horizon, like one of the sea birds that glided on the shores from distant lands.

She had dreamed of escaping Koholint.

Legend looked deeper into his reflection.

His brows furrowed into a determined glare.

In a moment he was off, his nihilistic thoughts crushed under the weight of purpose as he looked for something, anything, to fashion a boat or raft out of. He was setting off, sailing away, into new lands, into freedom, into endless possibilities.

If not for himself, for Marin.

She gave him another chance to live.

He would fulfill her only shattered wish.

He would make her see the world.