My concept for a story in the BIONICLE universe that deals with Velika and a buncha other stuff - Led by Toa Krakua, who has trained and rebuilt himself over time, the Haida must find the remaining Toa and keep Spherus Magna safe. Meanwhile, on the Red Star, the Toa Nuva must work together with heroes of old to restore the return function and get back home.
Where the Turaga and Protectors are the leaders of the island’s villages and Matoran, the Traders’ Guild are the binding tying the isolated communities together. Six courageous, somewhat foolhardy Matoran who brave the wilds and Rahi to transport goods from region to region, supplying unique wares and news between the otherwise isolated locales; some argue they’re singlehandedly responsible for keeping the island afloat. Whether or not they’re aware of this reputation, they are respectably humble and honest regardless, more interested in helping their fellow Matoran than turning a profit for their efforts. Mostly.
Vohon
Trader from Ta-Koro; has the cheapest prices and a wide selection.
Okoth
Trader from Ga-Koro; has as many good stories as wares.
Tuuli
Trader from Le-Koro; in it more for the adventure than anything.
Zemya
Trader from Onu-Koro; experienced, reliable, and fair.
Kokkan
Trader from Ko-Koro; offers only the finest quality items at a higher price.
Melea
Trader from Po-Wahi; the earnest, still-learning newbie.
@killer-badass, happy birthday! It’s crazy how the universe works, and I’m so glad I met you. Consider this your gift! I hope you like it, and I hope everyone else who reads this enjoys it too!
Before everything changed, William Antonovich had always been called the Sunshine Boy. Sonyachnyy khlopchyk, in his native tongue. William was the kind of sun you lay under on a summer day, the kind you tilt your face up to when you need a pick-me-up from the universe. He was warmth and everything good about blue skies, he had the sun inside him and it showed in his face, his gentle demeanor, the softness of his touch. If the world had ever hurt him, he wasn’t angry, and if he had scars he hid them well behind his curtain of light.
William Antonovich had always been the sun. Before everything, and after everything too. After he was broken, however, he simply became a different version of it. Sunshine’s perverted twin. For what is the sun but a blistering ball of fire? From far away it is a golden egg yolk in the sky, but the sun can also burn anything it can touch. It can blister your skin until you can hardly move, makes you sick enough to kill you, sucks the soul out of your very being. People die under the burning heat of the sun, plants rot and dead meat festers under the light that is supposed to nurture us.
How quickly the sun can turn against us. How quickly William did the same.
He remembers the first time he conjured up the fire. The pins-and-needles sensation on his palms, the the skin of his hands and forearms glowing like embers, the way the air shimmered around him just as the flames erupted like a flamethrower. He remembers that directly after that, he had killed the man who had been accompanying him, the man who had given him the powers. Burnt to a crisp. Then he burned more, many more people, anyone he could find who had wronged him even once, anyone who had ever hurt him.
William is a killer now, no more the gentle sunlight he was before. Anyone but he might think this is a tragedy, but William thinks that going crazy was the best thing that ever happened to him.
The old him was weak, could never have done what he needed to do. The old him didn’t believe in revenge, the old him would have forgiven something unforgivable, the old him wouldn’t have the guts to stop this from every happening ever again.
Now, William stays up all night scheming, plotting, tracking, hunting. To him, the deaths were necessary. Eye for an eye. You ruin my life, I take yours. And all in the meantime, in the ages of time between finally finding someone he’s looking for, he hones his fire. William sleeps during the day, it’s easier that way, and he’s practically nocturnal now. But around William, it never really is night. For he is the sun, sinister sun, always radiating just enough heat to sweat you out. He is no longer the Sunshine Boy, William Antonovich is now a terrorist.
