The USAmerican Imagination Cannot Consider Land That Is Multi-purpose.

VUATA

"The…the ship," the Vo-Matoran gasped, dragging herself up onto the rocks.

She collapsed, mask down. Waves crashed against the jagged shoreline. A few remnants of shattered debris drifted in and out with the foam.

"Are you injured?" a voice called. The Vo-Matoran looked up to see one of the Ga-Matoran standing over her. She stooped and pulled seaweed from the Vo-Matoran's mask.

"I am whole," the Vo replied slowly. "But the ship…"

"The ship is gone," the Ga said, helping the Vo to her feet. "Come further up, away from the water. The sea is still dangerous."

The other Matoran were gathered in a low flat place in the center of the island. Low thunder carried on the breeze.

"I have found another," the Ga called out as they approached.

"This is good," the Fe replied. "We are six now."

"A good number," said the Ko. "More fortunate, given our plight."

"We must make another search, on the next cycle," the other Ga said. "But now that we are six…"

"We must take council," said the Onu. "Yes, it is time."

They drew the Amaja Circle in the gravel, and each Matoran took up their place on its margin.

The Ko cast a pale stone into the center of the circle. "We must devise a plan to escape," he said. "We will be needed at our destination."

"How?" the Fe ventured, pushing forward his ruddy stone. "The ship is destroyed, and we cannot rebuild it now. We have no materials…"

"I believe," the Onu said, "that we must stay put, for now."

"Survive here?" the Ko asked. "For how long?"

"Until we are rescued," the Vo said, setting down a quartz stone.

"No–until we can create a new vessel," the Fe countered.

"It would be a great undertaking," the Onu said, musing. "The seas here are treacherous."

"Too great an undertaking for us," the Vo said. "Surely--we are only six, and we have no Turaga."

"Not too great," one of the Ga chimed in. "We are builders, after all–each of us, in our own way."

"But how--"

"--We must rely on the Rule in Absence," the Ga finished.

"It is true," said the second Ga, the one who had found the Vo by the shore. "We have all that we need here."

"Agreed," said the Onu.

"The island is desolate," said the Ko, "barely a mound of rocks. And see how the smoke of the eruption obscures the sky? The stars are closed to me."

"For now," the first Ga replied. "Until then, the Rule in Absence shall guide us."

The Ko did not reply. He removed his stone from the circle.

They cast the sixfold lot, as the Rule required. The first Ga who had spoken was chosen as Elder. Now she was no longer Ga, but Raga.

A light snow of ash began to fall.

======

They scavenged the margins of the island for the first few days, gathering the remnants of their wrecked ship. The Ga and Raga attempted to swim out to the reef, but found that the ocean was still too heated to endure. The horizon was a mass of steam, and the ash fell steadily, coating both land and sea in gray.

Three masks washed ashore--those of the two Ta and the Po. The Fe examined them and found them to be undamaged.

"It is likely," the Ko said, "that the bodies have gone unto Mata already. They have no need of these anymore."

The masks were stored in the makeshift Suva that the Onu had piled up--they were precious. A hut of driftwood was soon erected nearby, and the Matoran rested there in shifts, out of the wind and the falling ash.

One evening, they drew out the Amaja once more and assembled around it:

"The next task is for you," said the Elder, pointing to the Vo. "We have made shelter, and the Suva is finished for now. What remains is…the Vuata."

"I…I have not studied the formation of Vuata, Elder," the Vo said. "Only tended to it and its power-flow."

"You are Vo, are you not?"

"I am."

"And we are without Bo-Matoran here, who might be capable of the cultivation by proxy. So, the Duty falls to you."

"I see, yes. But…it is…I am--"

"--I have studied this knowledge, Elder," the other Ga said, putting her stone into the Amaja, alongside the Vo's quartz. "I have also studied much of the knowledge of flora. Perhaps I can--"

The Elder raised a hand, shaking her head.

"No, according to the Rule in Absence, each Matoran shall perform the Duty of their building and design. No other."

The Ga nodded slowly, removing her stone from the circle.

"You shall begin tomorrow."

The Vo stared off at the murky horizon.

"I will."

In the morning, the Vo, Ga, and Fe went down to the shoreline. The Fe carried a special vessel he had shaped from scrap metal. The upper portion of the vessel was filled with a layer of protodermic ash, and below that was a small opening covered in fine mesh.

They filled the vessel with seawater, letting the liquid protodermis filter through the ash into the lower container. After repeating the process many times over, the Ga judged that the water was sufficiently purified. She turned to the Vo, who sat a short distance away, meditating.

"It's ready," the Ga said. "Have you meditated on the process?"

"I…I have," said the Vo, opening her eyes. "I believe I am centered."

"Good, you most only remember: sharp and deep is the action. Once should be enough."

"And it will…will it…hurt?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"I've heard that the mechanisms are quite complex, and, um, fascinating," the Fe said, fidgeting.

He offered the vessel, to which he had affixed a spigot.

"Thank you."

"It is time," said the Ga. "We will be right here with you."

The Vo took the vessel and exhaled slowly. Then, she raised it to the aperture of her mask, and inhaled.

Sharp and deep, she inhaled the purified liquid protodermis--did not swallow it, but aspirated it sharply into her Vo-Matoran lungs, which were made differently from other Matoran.

It hurt. She dropped the vessel, doubled over. The Ga moved to steady her. The pain burned deep in her chest, but she held on, did not exhale. It was her Duty. She focused, as the Ga had told her, and the burning centered itself down, down into her core. Her heartlight beat rapidly, more rapidly each minute. At last, she looked up. The Ga and Fe helped her to stand, and they made their way back to the encampment.

The Onu had cleared a space, turning up the rocky ground and plowing gray ash into it. The Elder came out of the hut, followed by the Ko, as the three Matoran approached. The Vo stepped forward, arms spread. Her heartlight glowed bright in her chest, and the Elder nodded approvingly.

"Come. Here is the place."

The Vo stepped forward into the empty space, and the Onu patted the tilled ground. She knelt in the earth.

A whining, whirring noise began to rise on the air--a mechanical sound, like that of an engine powering up. It hurt.

The Vo looked back over her shoulder, eyes wandering, until they fell on the Ga.

"I-I..." she stammered, jaw clenched, "I am...afraid."

"It is almost done," said the Elder.

The whining noise increased.

"We will be here with you," said the Ga, quietly.

"You will not be alone."

The noise reached a crescendo. The Vo doubled over once more, and heaved. A bright spark of something issued from her mouth and went down, down into the ground.

Her eyes and heartlight winked out. The body fell heavily to the earth.

=====

It was a red evening, as the stars burned into night over the sea. The fog and smoke on the horizon had cleared in recent months--enough now to glimpse the husk of the volcanic island which had been the cause of their shipwreck, a low smudge against the sky.

They could not reach it, of course. The waves broke sharply against submerged reefs all around, and the ocean still boiled angrily in some places. Somewhere out there was the wreck of the Fe's skiff, and the Fe along with it. Only his mask had returned to them, as with the others. That was how they had decided that long-term survival was their only option--even the Ko had agreed.

The Ga had descended to ground-level less than an hour ago, as was her habit before the night set in. She passed the Onu on her way down to the ladder; he was always more comfortable closer to the earth.

She made a brief search of the shoreline. Sometimes debris still washed in, although collecting driftwood was much less vital to them now. She checked for erosion on the eastern point of the shore, and made a note to tell the Onu that it had progressed a small amount. He probably already knew.

After that, she waded into the surf and hauled in one of the cage-traps, retrieving its catch of small Rahi crabs, endemic to the area and useful for their shells and sharp claws. She hung the catch upon a rack further up the rocky shore, noting also that the trap would needed to be mended. Good practice for the Ko, maybe, now that the stars had become visible consistently and he had calmed himself. She verified the tideline again, judging that the tide was near its lowest point by now, and replaced the marker stones. The tidal range was of the variable kind in this region of the world, and had to be monitored carefully. So many things to monitor, to keep track of. But they all did their part: it was a matter of survival.

Next, she turned her attention to the Tree.

The Tree rose from the center of the island, straight as a pillar. Its roots covered much of the ground now, burrowing deep into the earth, and its canopy now shaded nearly the entirety of the island's landmass. It had grown quickly in its early days, and its roots were mature enough now even to drink the unpurified seawater.

She made her way along the narrow pathway that ringed the Tree's base. The path was a natural formation, allowing access to the various apertures and ports that issued from the trunk. There were even natural handholds in the metalwood of the tree's surface where the roots emerged and one was obliged to climb over. This was the nature of Vuata. Like many other forms of plantlife across the world, it was made to serve a particular purpose. The Tree was their livelihood--the producer of all the things needed for the continuing of their labors.

At last, the Ga stood before the great aperture which led down into the Tree's Karda, the core which produced energy for the Tree's growth, and which provided vital sustenance to the Matoran, when needed, as well as power for whatever mechanisms they built.

The Karda was the heart of their island now. It glowed blue-green, pulsing gently. She made sure to keep the area free of debris, clean and orderly, as much as she could.

It was not technically her Duty, but it was right.

They had buried the body of the Vo there, in the same earth, after...afterward. The body would not go unto Mata, the Raga had said, for there was no fatal malfunction, only a...transferal. A change in life-functions. That was what the Raga had called it. Even so, she liked to come to this place when she could. She had made a promise, after all, that the Vo would not be alone.

Night had fallen. The Ga returned to the sturdy rope ladder which hung down the trunk of the Tree. Her tasks were done, and they would all be turning in the for the night soon. All except the Ko, who usually rested during the daylight so that he could star-gaze at night...

The great ripple that moved through the world almost didn't register to her senses as she climbed, except for a subtle pause in the movement of the waves below. It was accompanied by a noise: a slow distant rushing.

The Onu--sensitive to the slightest of world-movements--was already calling out a loud warning from the branches of the Tree above by the time she realized what was happening, and that the dull roar that had sprung up in her ears was not wind, but water.

The tsunami struck the island and washed over it with fury. Liquid fire sprouted along the horizon as the distant volcanic island was ripped apart by a second eruption. Flaming rock hissed into the sea, and the stars were once again blotted out by smoke.

Somehow, her grip on the rope-ladder did not fail. She twisted and whipped round in the surging water, and the heat made her cry out involuntarily. Then she struck hard and felt the yielding wood of the Tree against her body.

She heaved upward with a wrenched arm and grabbed another handhold on the ladder, then realized that she was moving upward. Her eyes cleared for a moment, and she saw the other Matoran hauling frantically on the ladder, dragging her up out of the raging maelstrom. The Tree swayed, and the Ko nearly fell from his perch. She was out of the water.

She looked down, and with a shock she realized that the island was gone, completely submerged.

"We almost have you!" the Raga said, heaving on the rope.

She bounced off the trunk again, and heard the Tree groan with the strain of the waters. Then hands were on her, dragging her up and into the safety of the lowest branches, which grew in the shape of a platform.

"Are you injured?" asked the Ko, "I see...Your shoulder is damaged. I shall endeavor to--"

"It is not finished!" said the Raga, pointing into the distance.

"Hold fast," said the Onu, gripping them both with his large hands.

Another vast wave bulged up from the horizon and smashed against the Tree. They all heard it, felt the pain of it. The world was all red and black now, as the volcano flared up.

The Ga struggled to her feet with an effort and looked downward toward the base of the Tree. The Karda. Through the rising steam she could see it: the core was still submerged. Its light flickered beneath the waves. The Karda shall drown, she thought.

If it died, so would they, soon enough, and it would all be for nothing.

"The Vuata!" the Ga cried, pointing. "It is in danger!"

The Tree shuddered again.

"Its roots are deep," said the Onu. "But I am unsure."

"I did not foresee this," said the Ko miserably. His precious stars had been wiped away once more.

The Raga stared for a moment, down at the heart of the Tree, which she had commanded to be planted.

"I shall do it," she said slowly. "It falls to me. The Rule in Absence states that--"

The Ga had already dived from the branches, straight down into the crashing waves, where the Karda glowed blue-green and beat, beat like a heartlight, down into the place where vast energies pulsed against the onslaught of the elements, down amongst the roots of the Tree, where the Vo had been buried with her mask. The Ga fell into that place, and swam strongly, despite her injury, and pushed through...

And in those final moments, before her own core reinforced the Karda of the Tree with new energy, there was a little fear, but not much.

===

A Nui-Kahu flew through the high atmosphere, wheeling above the ocean. Below, a mess of islands spread across the surface of the silver sea, and the Toa of Earth that clung nauseously to the bird's back noted that they were clearly the result of past volcanic activity.

At the center of the ragged archipelago, a low cone was still visible above the waves. According to the Toa's briefing, this volcano had been disrupting the marginal sea-routes for many years, but only now had the Lord of the Continent seen fit to dispatch someone. Unfortunately, that someone was him.

The Rahi bird descended mercifully to the blackened shoreline, and the Toa slid off with relief. He stamped his feet a few times in the dirt to reassure himself and calm his motion-sickness. The Kahu squawked and looked at him disdainfully, flicking mud from its wings.

"Stay put, please," he clicked in the bird's language. "This shouldn't take too long."

The crater itself was only a short hike and a scramble up the irregular slope, but even before he had reached the scorched rim and looked down, he'd begun to suspect that his intel was a bit outdated. Although it had clearly been a very lively firespout in the past, the volcano was now quite dead. Not even a wisp of smoke rose from the blasted core below. The wind was dry and ashy in his mouth. He scratched his mask. Had this trip been for nothing, after all?

Reaching out with his elemental powers, he scried downwards into the depths, feeling out the placement of the earth, its layers stacked one atop the other, sensing out the places where it was cold and hard...and where it was hot, made pliable by the magmatic flows that crisscrossed the underside of the world.

There was nothing here. No heat. No pressure. Strange.

He shrugged and turned to go back down the slope. It would be a short mission report for his superiors in Metru Prynak after all...

Something caught his eye, off to the right, where the distant shoreline curved into a small bay. A shape stood out against the gray stone. In his Matoran days, the Toa had been a historian of sorts, although nothing so grand as the Archivists of the City of Legends. It wasn't really on his list of directives, but surely it wouldn't hurt to investigate this place thoroughly...

Another short hike brought him to the remains of a camp, likely Matoran in origin based on its size. The firepit and remains of a small shelter were all covered in a healthy layer of ashen dust, just like everything else on the island. More notable, however, was the standing stone that had been erected just up the slope from the encampment. This is what he had seen from above.

It was a rounded pillar carved from the volcanic rock of the island itself, clearly having been shaped with some skill--probably by a Po- or Onu-Matoran. On the surface of the pillar, many words were carved. He stooped and gently blew away the accumulated ash from the surface, then began to read:

"Omokulo the Earth-Tiller carved the words on this stone. Tykto divined by the stars that it would be read in this place, one day, and Raga Peyra commissioned its writing to complete the cycle."

The signature was a practice of the northern chroniclers and record-keepers, although phrased a bit archaically. He read on:

"This is the bio-chronicle of our cell, isolated from the Great Whole by the wrath of nature. Nevertheless, we have kept to our Duty, and followed the Rule in Absence."

The Rule in Absence...How long ago had this been written? There was only the Rule of Order now, after the Barraki and their Wars of Order. He scuffed his fingers along the stone, tasted the dust. Perhaps a century old, maybe more...

"We were six at first, and by the sixfold lot we chose an Elder, as the Rule in Absence requires. We raised the Suva for safekeeping, and the Vewa for shelter. Then we made provision for continued survival and labor, as the Rule in Absence requires. Therefore, Ka'o the Channeler initiated the making of Vuata."

He paused for a moment, amused at the word. These Matoran must have been from the central environs--or even from Metru Nui itself--to call it that. On the continent, they still preferred the archaic form, Vo-Ata, the Source of Energy...

"In the time that was to come, Vuata grew and became the body of our world, which sheltered and protected us. By Ka'o we offer this memory, and by Idda who went unto the Karda when it was threatened, though it broke the Rule in Absence. We offer this memory unto the Great Spirit. West from this pillar it can be seen. It will be with us always. It shall not be forgotten."

There was so much written here. Interesting to be sure, but too much to sift through. He focused and scanned the stone with his Mask of Memory instead, storing the visuals so that they could be more closely examined back home.

West from this pillar it can be seen. The line stuck in his mind. He turned and squinted toward the horizon. The sky was still bright at midday, and he cursed that he'd forgotten to bring the tinted lenses for his mask. Earth Toa weren't exactly known for their keen eyesight.

He walked back into the encampment. There seemed to be nothing else of interest for him here, and the day was getting on. Putting a finger to his mouth, he let out a shrill whistle and soon after the Nui-Kahu landed by the water nearby. He was preparing to mount up and begin the long, unpleasantly high-altitude journey back, when he stopped again.

Something was nagging at him. Something down there...beneath his feet. Deep in the earth, he could feel it now, or was it just his imagination?

Closing his eyes, he searched deeper. Not here...not there...no. Wait--there! A small source of heat in the bedrock, very deep. He traced it like a thread. Westward, out to sea.

But that wasn't all. There was something else down there too--something not made of earth. He could sense it by the absence it created, coiling around, following along the vein of magmatic pressure. The Kahu gave an unhappy screech as he abruptly waded into the surf to get a better read. Up to his waist, the waves buffeted him as he pushed his seismic senses to their limit. At last, he got a glimpse, saw the bigger picture. Yes, it was familiar.

Clouds covered the brightness of the sky for a moment, and his eyes snapped open. He could see a shape on the horizon. From above, he had thought it was just another island, maybe another volcano. But now he knew he was mistaken.

He returned to his flying mount and coaxed it back into the air. The scattered islands around the area were a wreck, washed clean by the violence of nature more than once...but never again, it would seem.

Vuata grew and became the body of our world

which sheltered and protected us.

Deep beneath the earth he had felt the stirring of roots, tangled in the veins and rivers of underground heat and drawing from their energy.

By Ka'o we offer this memory, and by Idda

who went unto the Karda when it was threatened

though it broke the Rule in Absence.

Mighty roots, choking the errant volcano into extinction and returning peace to the islands and the sea.

We offer this memory unto the Great Spirit.

West from this pillar it can be seen.

On the edge of the horizon it loomed, huge and unshakable. Dark branches lifted upward and outward across the ocean.

It will be with us always.

It shall not be forgotten.

If Kraata can reach Matoran-level intelligence in their final stage of development, could a Makuta create a fake Matoran or Toa that was just a sapient Kraata in a Matoran shaped mech suit?

Once you start thinking about humans as a species in a biome, it affects your entire way of looking at normal things.

The other day I referred to female morning joggers as an 'indicator species' in that if you see women jogging in the dark it means that the environment provides migration pathways (sidewalks, clear signs) and doesn't have any known predators of female morning joggers (guy with knife, bear, BigTruck, male morning joggers).

Though, I think that people consider framing humans as animals reacting to their environment as rude.

love how when i get a new interest, i’m like “oh god it’s happening again” and i’m stuck like that for about a week until everything explodes and any interest i’ve had prior is completely dwarfed for an unknown amount of time

every overthinker should have someone to fuck them stupid

the way people are taught programming today continues to drive me insane insane insane

the problem i have with the whole "humans and nature as opposed and mutually exclusive forces" style of environmentalism is that it discourages people from a sustainable, mutualistic relationship with the ecosystems around them, because getting resources from an ecosystem is Bad. Therefore it requires you to think that parts of Earth that provide resources are not ecosystems.

this is where you get unbelievably stupid crap like the "half earth" project that proposes "protecting" half of Earth's land mass as nature preserves, never mind how we choose what half or what happens to the other half.

this type of environmentalism literally encourages people to think of their own presence as excluding or cancelling out "Nature."

And so people think of their lawns as Not Ecosystems, as Not Nature, so they cannot think "How do i live in right relationship with my ecosystem, as its caretaker?" This is death to ecological thinking.

The lawn was consciously created by intention and design, with heavy machinery that was manufactured, sold, and operated, it is not spontaneously created by fumes that the human body gives off.

You act upon the land, now time to learn what you are doing, and who you are doing it to.

when i was a straight boy, i said so, at least to myself.

it was always "pretty girls" and "beautiful women" shown to me, described to me. men were "handsome", but that's not an aesthetic judgement. it's a recommendation for marriage that could be based on other traits.

a good-looking man's portrait was almost always painted to what would make him look good to straight men, not those who wanted to fuck.

it seemed like desire for men was alien, an unexplainable, unrelatable magical feeling that others were mind controlled by.

until, eventually, i found that desire.

yet, it still feels wrong to use the same descriptions. masculine men are still, generally, not pretty to me. but i. i want to kiss them so much. i want a better word. help.

being attracted to men is not shameful or regrettable and if you think this is a 'needlessly arguing for the norm in a community of outsiders' post then you're part of the problem

okay, you know what? Running away shouldn’t be a crime. It shouldn’t be dangerous, either. Any kid should be able to leave their parents if they want, for any reason. No I’m not kidding.

“But Rue, where will these kids stay? Do you want them on the streets?”

of course not. In an ideal world, a kids would have multiple adults other than their parents they could look to for care, but I recognize that that will never be a reality for every single child. So: youth shelters, if they have nowhere else to go. There should be clean, warm shelters where anyone under 18 can stay for as long as they need, no questions asked. (And of course shelters that aren’t just for kids, but we’re talking about youth rights right now)

“But Rue,” I hear you say, “what if some moody teenager runs away after an argument?”

First of all, I’d rather a thousand moody teenagers run away than one abused child be trapped. Second, so what if one does? A kid needs time away from their parents, so they leave. The vast majority of them will get some time to cool down and then go back home, and if they don’t want to go back, period? Then nine times out of ten, they have a good reason. (Because yes, as hard as it is for you to believe, kids are humans who have common sense.)

“Okay, but what about the one time out of ten the kid doesn’t have a good reason?”

Then the kid doesn’t have a good reason. It doesn’t change anything. If someone wants to break up with their partner because of something stupid, you wouldn’t say they legally shouldn’t be able to. (And if you would, then you’re just a bad person.) No one should have to be in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, that they don’t want to be in.

I think one big reason why we don't consider the stars as important as before (not even pop-astrology anymore cares about the stars or the sky on itself, just the signs deprived of context) is because of light pollution.

For most of human history the sky looked between 1-3, 4 at most. And then all of a sudden with electrification it was gone (I'm lucky if I get 6 in my small city). The first time I saw the Milky Way fully as a kid was a spiritual experience, I was almost scared on how BRIGHT it was, it felt like someone was looking back at me. You don't get that at all with modern light pollution.

When most people talk about stargazing nowadays they think about watching about a couple of bright dots. The stars are really, really not like that. The unpolluted night sky is a festival of fireworks. There is nothing like it.