My Bionicle Self-MOC (I hate that term, but that's what everybody calls these...); you might recognize him as a revamped Nox Praedator.
About this creation
*Disclaimer: I do not have an extensive knowledge of the Bionicle universe as many Bio-mocers may have, so many things in the universe these characters are set in though taking the name and shape of things in Bionicle may and probably will not act in or be the same way as they do in the actual Bionicle universe. All of my Bio-moc's will be non-canonical in this way and I do not and will not ever claim that they are or should be. Thanks.
Always in the night he came and went.
The local Matoran knew him well...by their standards. They often found his footprints wandering aimlessly around the walls of their settlements. They rarely saw him though they knew he must be nearby.
First came the searing heat, weather the locals had never experienced before. The cool forests of Daetea (Die-TAY-ah) were accustomed to warm summers and long, moderately wet seasons, not the smothering heat of that summer.
Next was the boar. It was immense, enough to feed an entire village for weeks. Several villages banded together to kill it when it went in the forest. They still say many would have died fighting the boar had it not already been dead when they found it. A small white blade protruded from a single, clean wound.
Such a blade they had never seen before. But the hunters could not find any trace of the boar's killer, no matter how hard they combed the ground for footprints and other signs.
As the deadly summer continued, the villagers began abandoning their homes to find the few oases that remained deep within the shriveling forests. While a contingent composed of warriors from two villages were searching for such an oasis, a giant bird, nearly as large as some of the men, flew before their eyes, lightly brushing the sword out of their surprised leader.
It seized the carved steel and went slowly away. The party gave chase to the mysterious bird which, just as they were giving up, released the sword on a high boulder. When the leader of that party climbed the rock to retrieve his blade, he was greeted by the sight of a river, shrunken but still well over fifty feet in width.
As the awed warriors approached the bank of the swiftly flowing water, they glimpsed the silhouette of a giant, armored figure, taller than two of their strongest men, across the stream. The moment they noticed him he vanished into the shadows, but not before the party saw the same bird alight on his shoulder, turning to look at them with a knowing glance.
So began many rumors and tales of the "vigilante", an enigmatic shadow who extended his hand to those in great need. During the great exodus from the barren lowlands the ragged Matoran would often speak of the shadow, claiming to have seen him among the hills, ever watchful of the travelers.
One day as the last of these villagers stepped into the mountainous forests, which somehow remained green in the scorching heat, they sighted him on the edge of a cliff, clutching to the mask of one of their own warriors. He turned his head to look at them, and as he did so let the object fall into oblivion. In an instant he was gone, and in the same instant planted a seed of confused fear in the people.
Many began spreading rumors of a different tone, in particular of the "enslaved bird" the vigilante always carried with him. The opposing forces created a name for the shadow in the Matoran's own language: Kanthros (KHAN-throhs); danger, unpredictability.
And though they saw little of him, his loyal companion (for it was not enslaved as some claimed) appeared often. The everlasting summer seemed to have no effect on the creature, flying dexterously in the warm wind.
Its feet were like nothing they had ever seen, each ending in a single, pointed claw.
Though he was associated with a volatile power, the Matoran became accustomed to and even felt safe in its presence. Its never ending flights below the trees became an ordinary sight to the relocated villagers, plowing the baked earth under Sol's merciless rays.
The bird often flew before Kanthros when he approached a village. And though the locals were wary of the giant, they soon realized that he was their protector, and only rarely would he do something they considered evil, whatever his reason.
After several years the unusual heat had become familiar, the lowland deserts normal. But the persevering river never shrank any further, carrying its life-giving water from a source the Matoran had yet to discover. Rain still fell, much heavier than it had, but very rarely.
Many Matoran farmers thought that Kanthros knew when rain would fall or even brought the rain, for every time rain was about to fall he would open his arms and embrace the precipitation as it fell.
Kanthros never seemed to age, either. Year after year, decade after decade, until the descendants of his first witnesses were familiar with him, he was always the same. And thus he remained until Daetea fell to chaos, centuries after the first fateful summer.
Fourth Wall + Extra Pics
So here he is, probably close to a year since his last update. The bird I made recently to replace the wings. Every Self-MOC these days has wings (a gross exaggeration I know); basically none have a bird like Kanthros has.
I never got a good picture of his legs in the main post, because a picture like that wouldn't illustrate the story very well. Not much to see anyway, especially since the upper legs are virtually the same construction I use on 90% of my Bionicle limbs.
And in case you were wondering about his head...I made a very professional diagram of where everything is. Kudos to Gimp for being able to make straight lines and perfect ellipses.
And finally, some sort of triumphant pose. It's amazing what a camera can do these days without photoshop.