The thrum of mechanicals running down and around the great concourse around the City Center droned on as the sun began its slow journey towards night. Atop the tower of stone, to which all looked for leadership, a single figure emerged. Unnoticed by the Matoran below, the one in dull red armor reached out, grasping what seemed to be a tube like device, and lifting it toward the mask he wore.

"Greetings to all- friends, brothers, sisters," a stately voice came from various points across the city, in homes through small radio boxes, and out into the streets from electronic horns of sound, "This is Turaga Kalu of Ta-Congro, Leader of the Great Exodus. I would like to begin by reminding you all that the Red Star Festival is only two days away," Kalu paused, allowing those hearing him to react, "Preparations have already begun, and it is with great excitement that I bring you the official location of viewing place for this year," another pause, and the sound of shifting as the Turaga drew a sealed note from his person and opened it, "The place in our Great City with the honor of hosting the ceremonial viewing of the Red Star is- Fe Congro!"

Within a chilled office in a large storage facility, full of various crates being loaded and unloaded, stacked and unstacked by Ko-Matoran, a small radio crackled out this message amidst the static, causing great distress to the room's singular occupant.
"Valmai," the figure spat, the bile in his voice palpable, "The Festival was supposed to be in Ko-Congro this year."
An aged fist slammed against a round desk, scattering small cog like widgets and notations on stone and paper alike scattering. The same hand placed itself ponderingly upon a ridged, vent like side of the white mask he wore, while the other gripped a silvery staff whose bottom arced and curved, ending almost like a hammer, but showing evidence of the inner curve being used to pry objects open.
"And who decided Kalu could run his hands through Vo-Congero anyway?" he fumed.
The imposing Turaga Talur stood, shoulders haunched forward, letting out a huff of disgust.

Reposting from the previous thread:

Kumanu

Kumanu heard a thump and a crash as he crawled out of the warehouse's air vent, a squirming burnak cub clutched between his hands. The feline rahi had got itself stuck in there, and had been making quite a racket.

"Don't mind me, sir" he commented to the angry turaga. "Just finished getting this little guy. I'm surprised how far in he managed to get, even after falling through from the roof. There was a bent grill covering up there, but I've fixed that now, so it shouldn't happen again. Unless there's something more you need, I'll just be on my way"

He waited a moment for Talur to respond, though he was really just asking to be polite. It didn't seem like a good time to be around the frosty elder, and he had another callout to attend before the end of the day. The sooner he was out of there, the better.

Talur

"Ah, Kumanu, is it?" the Turaga replied, mildly taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Kanoka Launcher wielding Matoran from the ceiling, "No, there's nothing that requires your services. Let me show you out."

Reaching out across the small room, the Turaga of Ice tipped his Hammer Staff, and opened the door, beyond which lay a large warehouse. An icy mist hung in the air, rows upon rows of giant metal crates were stacked three, sometimes four crates high, creating aisles into the mist. Many Ko-Matoran were working below, using ladders and small tools to arrange smaller boxes, removing them and placing others in their places. The landing outside the door was metal, and had a set of corrugated metal stairs winding down to the warehouse floor.

The Turaga, instead of gripping the rail, took a running stance and held out his hand. A faint glow came from his mask, and in an instant, he was gone. A sheet of ice appeared beneath Telur's feet, his Noble Kakama propelling him down the stairs, curved tracks taking him around the bends. The ice vanished soon after the Turaga slid over it, but the act of the elder moving at such great speeds was quite the sight to behold. In only moments, Telur was at the large bay-style doors at the warehouse's front. Letting out a slight cough- more a stale breath from the effort, Turaga Telur casually tapped his staff to a button on a panel on the wall, causing the great doors to rise.

Several rows away from where the Turaga opened the door, likely on Kumanu's way to the exit, were a particularly dense group of Ko-Maotran. They seemed to be having quite the conversation, as only one at the moment was working. This Matoran seemed the focus of the gathering, as some other, more burly workers, seemed to be attempting to lighten the mood.



The turaga was unusually polite to Kumanu after his rage of a moment before, even going so far as to use his kanohi to hasten to the door and see him out. It was the mark of a good leader, the Ko-Matoran thought, that he was able to put aside his disappointment and even go the extra mile to show kindness and good manners. Kumanu wasn't anyone particularly important, but nonetheless Talur treated him with respect. It was a good thing that Kongero Nui had such beings to lead it.

As he made his way towards the big bay doors, a small clump of Ko-Matoran stood talking in low voices. He tipped his mask to them as he wapproached, thinking that he too should be polite. "Good evening" he addressed them. "All going well?"

Talur

At the approach of the other Ko-Matoran, one of the taller, more burly ones with a deep voice turned. He wore a Powerless Kanohi Pakari which, curiously enough, had a scope build into the right eye, causing the sides to be curved back moreso than usual.

"Sure does brother!" he replied, "We're just trying to cheer up Aika here." The burly Ko-Matoran's gesture swept towards an altogether average Ko-Matoran in a mask which looked similar to a Matatu, but more curved downward, with a greater separation of front and back, and lacked a scope or lens of any kind.

"It's fine," the aforementioned Aika replied, his voice sounding somewhat distressed, "I'm just trying to get my work done," he added, his arms folding, rubbing against each other, before he breathed a puff of misty breath against his hands.

Across the floor, Turaga Telur looked about a moment. However, once Kumanu was nowhere to be seen, he simply shrugged, leaving the door opened as he strode back towards his office. Seeing the huddle of Ko-Matoran, but not picking Kumanu out from it just yet, he leaned in towards the empty aisles.

"Back to work boys," he called, his tone warning, but not quite yet severe. One of the other, more broad Ko-Matoran chuckled a little, as they all well knew Telur wasn't serious- at least not yet.



"Well, all the best then." Kumanu said to the matatu wearer, Aika "I'll see you 'round"

A half hour later with the burnak cub safe at the pet shelter, Kumanu arrived in Bo-Congro for his last job of the day. The brakas monkey he had picked up had finally gone to sleep in its cage. For what seemed like half way across Kongero Nui, it had been yelling its head off and rattling the bars as it raged against its captivity. It was nice to finally have some quiet from its incessant "kau-kau"-ing. So thinking, Kumanu pulled up his transport at the edge of a forest between Bo-Congro and Le-Congro. There was a colony of semi-wild brakas living not too far in, where this particular monkey would be making its new home.

Unslinging his kanoka launcher, he hit the cage that contained the sleeping monkey with a levitation disk, and it rose slightly into the air. Taking a couple of steps back and then throwing his weight against it caused it to slide off the transport and bob lazily off towards the trees, about half a bio up in the air. He gave it another shove to keep it moving and then followed into the trees.

Hura

The setting sun filtered through the leaves as a single Matoran made a trek through the Green. He was nearing Le-Congro, that much he could tell, because the air was getting warmer, wetter, heavier. To be honest, he preferred the more brisk mountain air near his home to the humid, thicker air around Ga-Congro and Le-Congro. His crystal blue eyes shifted about, casting their faint light towards the trunks and low hanging branches. He was after one specific tree in particular. Unfortunately, he had to pass very close to a Brakas bed to get there. There was something unnerving about the Brakas. Maybe it was the way they moved, or how they almost looked like a Matoran, but not quite. Perhaps it was the stories he heard, how they had terrible tempers and could fall into fierce howling fits. Whatever the reason, Hura felt a chill amongst his armor, despite the muggy air near the undergrowth.

A little farther on his journey, and he began to hear things. Clattering, rustling, a periodic thump. Slowly, the Bo-Matoran approached, and above the billowey leaves, he saw some form of crate, floating in the air.

"Mata Nui," he exclaimed, staring at the slatted sides of the cage as it drifted past, a somewhat calm Brakas contained within.

He timidly looked upon the floating cage, not sure what to do. He wasn't even sure what he was seeing was real, until another thump startled him. He flinched, his weight shifting back, causing him to slip on some loose ground. He tumbled in front of the white armored matoran who had shortly before thumped the cage.

"Oh, h-hello brother," Hura stammered, in a daze.



"Whoa there!" Kumanu cried as he grabbed onto the floating cage and dug his heels into the ground to bring it to a halt before he ran over the other matoran. "Are you all right down there?"

"Oh, h-hello brother," The little green matoran stammered. Kumanu didn't think he knew him, but the term of address made him wonder. It was reserved for very close friends, or, legend had it, Toa on the same team. A second look confirmed that this wasn't someone Kumanu would consider a brother. The matoran must have hit his head as he fell and confused him for someone else.

"I'm not your brother" Kumanu stated gently. "But I'll help you anyway. Is there someone else here with you?"

Hura

Hura dusted himself off, standing with the taller Ko-Matoran's help. A puzzled look came to his face as he passed his gaze from the floating cage to the Ko-Matoran and back.

"I come to pluck fruit of the great Vuata Maka Tree. Master Apothecary needs it," he replied. A sideways glance, and his hand slipped to press against the upper fore of his Kanohi Rode.

"Is that a monkey-Brakas?" he sighed, not in the mood to deal with their irregular nature after having slipped, "How do you even manage to capture such Rahi, Ko-Matoran?" he asked. Then, after a moment, he extended his arm, palm forward, fingers straight, in greeting.

"Hura," he stated rather plainly.



Well, the little Bo-matoran seemed to be recovering well from his fall, which relieved Kumanu a great deal. He was up and talking, still a little flustered and disjointed, but seemingly uninjured and reasonably sound of mind.

"It's a combination of kanoka, cajolery and cleverness." Kumanu explained. "This little monkey, for example, had been pilfering fruit from storehouses at night, so all I had to do was set out some food and wait. A couple of weakening disks later, he started feeling very sleepy, and now here we are. I'm going to rehome him in the colony here, and hopefully the wild brakas will show him a more acceptable diet."

The Bo-Matoran had introduced himself, so Kumanu responded in kind, taking the other matoran's hand and shaking it.

"Anyway, are you sure you're fine? It's best not to be out here after dark."

Hura

"Kanoka..." he repeated the word, mulling it over for a moment in his mind, "We don't have them Bo-Congro-side."

There was another pause. Hura idly clicked the ends of his gathering staff together, keeping his hand from becoming stiff "Where do you get them Ko-Matoran Kumanu?" inquired the Bo-Matoran, referring still to the Kanoka disks.

It was then that he noticed, in particular detail, the item which Kumanu held. It seemed to be a large forked device with a pivoting handle, but for the life of him, Hura couldn't seem to remember seeing one before. Had it something to do with the Kanoka? Before he could ask, however, Kumanu again questioned his safety.

"I'm out here same as you," he replied, raising his gathering staff slightly, "I know my way here-and-back. Might not make it back to the city's inside before darkness for you though," he offered, as the sun had already gone low enough to cast gloomy shadows in the distance of the green.



"It's a powered disk" Kumanu explained. "They're used all over the place in the inner districts, and there are all different types. This one is a levitation disk, which lets me float the cage instead of lifting it, and similar kanoka in my vehicle float that, while others give it speed. I'll be fine, as soon as I've dropped off this brakas. Speaking of which..."

The white and blue matoran climbed on top of the wooden crate and started using a crowbar to lever off the door. Nails creaked loudly as they bent and then came free as Kumanu jumped off of the crate to put all his weight down on the bar. The cage slammed open, and its occupant barrelled out. The monkey didn't look back as it sprinted away into the forrest, keen to escape its imprisonment.

Hura

Hura's shoulders hunched a bit, his arms folding slightly, a hand cupping his chin in thought."Sounds... complicated," the Bo-Matoran responded.

He was curious as to how these Kanoka were made, or what could possibly compose them to give them such powers, when the Brakas was released, dashing off. His heart sank a little, his eyes visibly dimming, as a moue of consternation took his visage, seeming to shift the blue marks on his mask slightly.

"The Vuata Maka's just that way," he pointed out, indicating the same direction in which the Rahi fled with his gathering staff, "With that wandering around though..." he began.

However, he cut himself short, trailing off. Admitting that the brakas made him nervous wasn't exactly easy. Some of the other Bo-Matoran found his aversion towards large Rahi to be dishonorable.



"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you" Kumanu assured the Bo-Matoran. "You saw how fast he ran off just now, and how keen he was to get away from matoran and anything to do with us. He'll be tired and just wanting to sleep somewhere safe for the rest of the night. Picking a fight should be the last thing that brakas will want to do."

"You'll be fine. Really."

Hura

The Bo-Matoran raised an eyebrow. It wasn't in actual suspicion, or distaste, but rather, a misplaced, slightly judgmental pleading. Hura really did not want to go alone, not after having such a delay, and the brakas being on the move.

"Are you sure you can make it into the city before nightfall?" he asked, a slight pleading in his voice, urging the Ko-Matoran to at least travel with him, being that Hura had no way to defend himself.



The Bo-Matoran wasn't taking his reassurances to heart, and even though there was truly little danger, the fear still remained. It seemed that there was nothing else for it. He couldn't let the Bo-Matoran go home alone and in the dark.

"I can" Kumanu told him. "Though I could go with you if you want"

Hura

Hura raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. With a marked hesitation, he stepped forth, regripping his staff. Whether or not the Ko-Matoran would come with him, he had to go and collect the fruit either way.

"Just don't disturb the Green," he remarked offhandedly, "It remembers."



Kumanu considered the Bo-Matoran's comment as the two of them walked together through the twilit forest. While he knew that the forest didn't have a literal memory, the shadowed trunks did project a sense of... age, and standing through time as many other things came and went. All the petty political struggles of Kongero Nui would burn, smoulder and flare up again, and the forest would stand unchanged, just as it was in ancient times. It would be a pity to disturb that. The Green deserved some respect simply for its age, if not also for the more practical concerns of matoran: that it provided resources, a habitat for rahi, and kept the raw forces of nature in a kind of balance.

As they continued on, he felt as though he should continue the conversation with this other matoran. "Do you come here often, Hura?" he asked. Then, "Does the Green remember you?"



Jovial music blared loudly around him as the carnival rolled into Fe-Congro, and Suavo was enjoying himself immensely. All about, tents were beginning to go up and a huge stage was being constructed at the far end of the park where the Red Star festival would be held in two days time.

The big city was full of lights and noise even as the dusk fell. Suavo took another bite from the fried dikapi leg he was munching on as his ussal cart slowed to a stop. This was going to be a fun time, he decided. Here, he would be surrounded by as many matoran as he cared to meet, all of them happy and celebrating another good year in Kongero Nui. The strong, salty taste of dikapi filled his mouth, and life was good.

He could use a drink though. Jumping down from the cart, he patted the ussal's head and went off in search of somewhere he could buy a beverage.

The blue and white Vo-Matoran muttered to herself as she knelt a little ways down an alley away from the main pathways and roads of Fe-Congro, where she was knelt in front of an unassuming piece of machinery, one of the connecting points for the powercables running underneath Kongero Nui. She’d much rather be out exploring the pre-festivity town as everyone prepares, but she’d gotten stuck making sure the connection points for the power cables were all working properly and everything was switched on. Sometimes she would run into annoying rodent rahi chewing on the cables, but fortunately this particular transformer seemed to be in order.

As soon as Velhni was done inspecting the transformer and replacing the paneling she hopped onto her customized mag-bike, zooming out into the streets towards the next transformer like a blue and white blur, hoping to get her work done as fast as she could so she could adventure through the Fe-Matoran shops to pine over the mastercrafted tools she's sure she'll never be able to afford.

An orange and white Su-Matoran scrounged through a pile of junk, seeking a random assortment of items that more then likely would simply be melted down and re purposed. A few rare items might be kept in an brief attempt to see what he could do with it. Most were preparing for the festivities that would be starting soon. He wasn't as interested about them though he agreed to go reluctantly for a friend. Until then he would continue his usually daily tasks, keeping an optimistic attitude of finding something unique or rare though chances were highly against him.

He eventually decided the pile was hopeless for him and left it gathering what he had found and packing it up before making his way back to the living areas for the Su-Matoran of Su-Congro. Most of the buildings seemingly were haphazardly put together, made of the junk that was dumped there but they were all sturdy and strong. It was quieter then the usual hustle and bustle of Su-Matoran. He made his way to where parts would be melted, perhaps getting a few widgets out of the items he had scrounged up.

The setting sun filtered through the leaves as a single Matoran made a trek through the Green. He was nearing Le-Congro, that much he could tell, because the air was getting warmer, wetter, heavier. To be honest, he preferred the more brisk mountain air near his home to the humid, thicker air around Ga-Congro and Le-Congro. His crystal blue eyes shifted about, casting their faint light towards the trunks and low hanging branches. He was after one specific tree in particular. Unfortunately, he had to pass very close to a Brakas bed to get there. There was something unnerving about the Brakas. Maybe it was the way they moved, or how they almost looked like a Matoran, but not quite. Perhaps it was the stories he heard, how they had terrible tempers and could fall into fierce howling fits. Whatever the reason, Hura felt a chill amongst his armor, despite the muggy air near the undergrowth.


"And, for this reason, we would like you to be our representative at the Red Star Festival."
The Ta-Matoran's words echoed in the halls of the De-Congro Temple. The Suva attendant removed her ceremonial poncho like robe, placing it quietly on the bench.
"Must you speak so much?" her voice droned with an odd, cyclical rasp, "What if I don't want to go to the Red Star Festival?"
The flare gun at her side shifted as she turned away.
"This is a sacred place," Vhis added, her rather dismissive tone not seeming to phase the Ta-Matoran in bright red armor.
"You'll think about it," he assured, turning away and heading into the bright sunlight of Kongero Nui's great savanna.

Vhis's grey fist clenched tightly. Although she had had some time in the silence to herself, her ire was still raised.
"Bothersome noisy Ta-Matoran... bothersome noisy festival..." she murmured under her breath, "Well, I'll be at the festival. But I'll go for my own reasons, not theirs," and it seemed in that moment, she calmed, a breath slipping from her before she spoke again, though she seemed something akin to relieved, "And then... it won't matter."

-----


The green bodied Matoran flinched, however slightly, as if the question from the Ko-Matoran had been somehow unwelcome. In truth, he was startled, not expecting such a thought to be brought his way so suddenly.
"Well, I live here," he pointed out, taking a moment as his thoughts shifted before continuing, "And, well, I don't see why it would have any reason to."
After that moment he remained silent, intent on finding the Vuata Maka before much longer.

The two matoran passed quietly through the forest, following the faint, leaf-strewn path that led to the vuata-maca. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon when they reached it, and in the darkness, the soft blue glow of its magical fruit was all the more apparent. The tree's sleek branches gleamed in the dim illumination as they stretched gracefully upwards, almost mirroring the shape of the punga ferns that grew around its base. Despite having traveled across much of Kongero Nui, Kumanu couldn't help being taken aback by the sight.

The Ko-matoran hung back from the great tree, letting the Bo-matoran go forward. Kumanu himself wasn't quite sure what would happen next; he lacked the innate elemental affinity for plants that Hura had. He trusted in the Bo-matoran's knowledge and skills to do what he had come to do. Kumanu waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

The lightning matoran zoomed through the back streets of Fe-Congro, the nature of her bike allowing her to pay somewhat less attention to actually driving, since it followed a track of sorts. When she turned onto a market street her mind began to wander and she examined the Fe-Matoran crafted tools displayed in the stalls until she was jerked back to reality by her bikes collision detection warning. It was designed to stop the bike before hitting anything, but the sudden stop sent the distracted Vo-Matoran flying forwards, colliding with a purple and orange Matoran.

As soon as she recovered, Velhni jumped back onto her feet, offering a hand to her accidental victim. "Oh Spirits I'm so so so sorry! Are you alright? You're not hurt right?"

Without much of a word, having since approached the glowing tree, Hura slowly brought his somewhat lanky arms and legs around the tree's trunk, and began shimmying up the sacred bark. About half way up, he carefully drew his grabbing stick from his back, steadying it in his left hand, while he ascended towards the glowing sustainance above.
A moment later and the Vutta Maca fruit was in reach. After a few unsteady passes, the glowing fruit was seized in the scoops of Hura's picker, and gently plucked. Hanging on with his legs, the Bo-Matoran slipped the fruit into the pouch he carried, before beginning to slide back down the tree's bark.

One of Velhni's hands reached back to sheepishly rub the back of her head when she spoke in response. "Wellll, I'm actually supposed to be checking on all the power stations in Fe-Congro to make sure nothing breaks for the big Festival... But you're welcome to tag along! And once I've taken care of repairs we could take a quick trip to Vo-Congro and back!"

As she finished her sentence, the energetic Vo-Matoran hopped back onto her bike, turning to Suavo to see if he would join her, and offering the second seat behind her.

Tyro made his way through the maze of jumbled streets of Su-Congro. He was disappointed by the scrap he had found, a month ago perhaps he would of gotten more for it but depending on the material brought in and the amount given to be melted down, the price a Su-Congro would get for what they brought from the junk fields fluctuated at a rather constant rate. Today had ended not as great as he had hoped but he could always look forward to tomorrow. Besides with the festival a few days away, there was no point in being down.

He sped up his step deciding that if he was done hunting for scrap he could at least look into one of the neighboring Congro sections, perhaps his favorite being that of Fe-Congro and seeing the intricate craftsman-smith of those that lived there.

Once Suavo was sitting on the bike behind her, she turned her attentions to the controls and twisting the handlebars to cause the bikes repulsors to hum to life, raising the bike up about a foot off the ground over a few seconds and slowly picking up forward momentum though she hadn't activated the magnetic drive.

Velhni double checked their course before pressing down on a foot pedal, sending a reverberating hum through the bike as it latched onto the cable underground and began to speed up much faster. The bike was surprisingly quiet, only emitting a deep, rumbling hum as the engines drove them forwards and taking sharp turns with ease.

Thanks to the bikes quiet nature they were still able to talk without raising their voices too much.
“Y’know, I don't think I ever caught your name. I'm Velhni by the way, mechanic and racer extraordinaire.”

As the bike's hum grew louder, Suavo gripped tightly to his seat and felt the sudden kick of speed. It was exhilarating, but even so he could feel that the machine still had more to give once Velhni truly opened up the throttle.

“Y’know, I don't think I ever caught your name. I'm Velhni by the way, mechanic and racer extraordinaire.”

"Suavo," he called back over the rush of air."Travelling entertainer and carnival performer extraordinaire."

Velhni seemed to know where she was going, so in almost no time they had found their way back to the festival grounds. Since Suavo had left, tall floodlights had been erected over much of the park, so the place was filled with light even though the sun had long since disappeared. They soon approached a group of matoran hauling another array of lamps up to the top of a poll, and pulling spaghetti-tangles of wires out from a crate to hook them up the the festival's electrical grid. They didn't seem to be having much success.

"So, that's your gig there, right?" Suavo asked, pointing out the group.



Kumanu watch as the glowing fruit was carefully picked and then stowed away, and then Hura came back down the tree. He lent a stabalising hand as the Bo-matoran descended the final section, and then that was everything done and dusted.

"Nice job" he commented. "Shall we head home now?"

And so, day came to a close, and gave way to night. Hura and Kumanu went their separate ways, returning to their homes to sleep. And so did all the others of Kongero Nui. Even the most adventure hungry of Matoran found themselves resting and going about their days, almost as normal, until the day finally arrived.

Velhni couldn’t miss her new friends performance during the festival, so after a bit of carnival style fun she had hurried to catch the whole performance and after the play had finished she had waved to Sauvo, making her way around to where she knew he would come out. In one hand she was holding a bottle, the label of which warned that it could cause inebriation in Matoran, and her other hand rested on her hip.

“Nice moves up there! And nice costume, too.” She offered the bottle towards him. “Had a chance to celebrate yet?"