Hello! Here's Mothman! I'll be back tomorrow to address any questions/concerns about the sheet! Yay! [hider=Mothman] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/a3J9coK.png[/img] [hider=Picture Reference] [img]http://i.imgur.com/gPMN1wY.png[/img] [/hider] [/center] [color=8BA2DB][u]Name:[/u][/color] Mothman [color=8BA2DB][u]Alias/Nickname:[/u][/color] Generically: Joe Smith / Moths, Megaman, "Mothy" (used mostly by Chupacabra) [color=8BA2DB][u]Tale:[/u][/color] Urban Cryptid Legend - Mothman [color=8BA2DB][u]Physical Age:[/u][/color] Late 30's [color=8BA2DB][u]Actual Age:[/u][/color] 51 [color=8BA2DB][u]Height/Weight:[/u][/color] 5ft 11in / 160lbs [color=8BA2DB][u]Gender:[/u][/color] Male [color=8BA2DB][u]Physical Appearance and Attire:[/u][/color] While he is rarely seen, Mothman's features can be easily described as angular. He keeps his shoulder length black hair down or tied back when working out and it's clear he takes care of it. His bronze skin is marked by a lone tattoo of a happy face on the right side of his chest. Sometimes he has a full beard but, to see him looking scruffy about the face is not uncommon. Mothman likes to keep things simple, as far as clothing is concerned. Day to day he wears jeans and a t-shirt, a beanie to cover his unfortunately non-transforming antennae, and a pair of boots or sneakers, depending on his mood. To see him in gym clothes is far more common however, as he follows a schedule of working out during the early morning and after dinner, rain or shine. [color=8BA2DB][u]Personality:[/u][/color] Kind, understanding, very optimistic, and willing to give someone the shirt off his back, Mothman is a highly compassionate individual. Through his kindness, he is also a very approachable individual and won't turn away someone that initiates conversation. Perhaps this is why he decided to become something of a vigilante. Mothman doesn't like violence so he handles conflicts with heavy deescalation tactics, often mediating between two conflicting parties if he can. By odd contrast, his is very introverted, prefers to stay in his apartment, and rarely speaks more than one to three words per answer. It seems only his [i]best friend in the world[/i] can get him to use full sentences. [color=8BA2DB][u]Background:[/u][/color] [hider=Of Moths and Moons] She called him a guardian, so of course he would give his life to protect her. The great mother, Astmona of the Green Moon, screamed to him for help. Mothman could hear her but he was too occupied with the beasts before him. Made of twisted shadows, the monsters were crowded within the castle staircase, preventing his ascension. They had such an advantage over him that he could feel his knees growing weaker every time they pounded on his shield. Concentrating on his magic, Mothman reinforced the power of his Moonlight made shield, then readied his Moonlight Blade for attack. Mothman had been in the staircase for ages it seemed, fighting his way up the tower, past sixteen floors already, desperately trying to get the the great mother. This whole event had been a disaster. Where had the warning bell been when the shadows were sighted? How had the fiends closed in on the castle so quickly? And, most importantly, how had they blacked out the moonlight? The thoughts left him as he thrust his sword forward, impaling one of the shadows upon the blade, before hefting it up, over his head, then tossing it behind him-- the body bounced and rolled down to join the others he had cut down. As he fought, hacked, tossed, Mothman thought not of the pain in his wings, the tears and holes the beasts had given him, or the massacre that was happening to his people. There were three floors left to go and the mother's cries were growing more frantic. Were her wards giving out? With fury and desperation, Mothman cried, "Move!" As he hacked his way up the stairs. Howls and snarls answered him. Blood and the sick slickness of the flesh chopped away from the monsters coated the stairs, causing him to slip-- fangs to pierce his armor-- but still he pushed. Exhaustion was draped upon him like a weighted cloak, but still he pushed. A doorway soon greeted him-- gaping wide and surrounded by wooden splinters. With a wordless cry he thrust his blade through, bashed his shield against the splinters, and pushed his way into the room. Darkness writhed and danced about the chamber as the Astmona held dying light in her hands, Astmona's Moonlight magic shield fading slowly, with more of the beasts bashing themselves mindlessly against it. Mothman hacked his way through the crowd, finishing off the remaining monsters in the great mother's chamber, then dashed up to stand within her light. Tears could not stain her face, for their people did not cry, but Mothman knew her sorrow. Her great wings had been torn from her back, scattered about like torn paper, and her antenna had been snapped off by monsters. Green blood poured from one of Astmona's eyes as she looked to Mothman with a deep sigh of relief. Weakly she fell to her knees upon seeing him. Mothman kneeled at her side then bowed his head respectfully. After a few silent beats passed between them, Astmona looked to Mothman, then pleaded, "You have to go, Guardian." "I can't," he answered, emotion causing his voice to break. "This is a lost cause, Guardian, and I'll not see all my children killed." Mothman shook his head at her, refusing to accept it. The nest could be rebuilt if she survived-- new younglings could be hatched for a neighboring King-- things could be okay, but only if Astmona survived. He would protect her-- guard her-- "Please, Guardian," cried Astmona, her voice filled with agony, "I cannot help you if you do not wish it." "Help? You mean," began Mothman before lapsing into silence. "I must-- you must live for me." "But I die for you," replied Mothman before his gaze snapped toward the door. Growling, distant but present, was coming from the doorway. More were on the way and there wasn't much time left-- it didn't matter. Come what may, Mothman was going to give everything for Astmona's protection. Sternly, with the authority of her position Astmona told him, "That is not what you swore-- repeat your creed, Guardian." Mothman slowly rose to his feet at that. Silently, he stared down at Astmona, his antenna drooping with despair, as he turned to face the doorway. A fiend burst into the room as Mothman began, "For the mother, for the nest, I pledge my life." Sword and shield at the ready, he charged forward. Light within the room began to grow as Astmona began churning a spell into existence. "The children I will guard, as I am a child to be guarded," he roared as he thrust his blade into the belly of the creature. It hissed at Mothman, then clawed at his arm. Pained, Mothman shouted, "To give, to love, to be blessed by the sun..." He slammed his shiled against the monster, knocking it down and removing it from his blade with the blow, before charging upon it, shouting, "...in Larion's peaceful skies I fly!" No sooner did he thrust his blade into the skull of the beast, did the room grow filled with blinding light. Weightlessness and painlessness came abruptly to Mothman, as his world became a void of white. Once more did his mother hatch him into the light of day, only this time, it was in a world he had never seen before. She called him a guardian, so that he would live his life for her. [/hider] After arriving in the world, Mothman found himself weaponless and terribly injured. It took months of recovering for his wings to heal, then many more months re-learning how to fly. "Sightings" of Mothman occured during this time period of relearning to fly. Results varied between "very good" and "flying too low", resulting in his status as an urban legend coming to life. Many people saw him during this time but, eventually, he developed a better way of practicing his flight without being seen. This all kept him occupied up until he asked himself what exactly his reason for being was. A long existential crisis followed before he decided to take on a "vigilante" type of mindset. Mothman helped numerous lost hikers, exhausted backpackers, and fallen mountain climbers in the wilderness as he could, further solidifying his status as something more "believable" than the usual urban legend. A decent amount of time passed before the great exodus, when the other tales came into the world. By then, the legendary Mothman had already managed to get a weird statue of himself erected by a small town. And he says he likes to keep a low profile. [color=8BA2DB][u]Skills and Abilities:[/u][/color] [hider=Mothman Transformation] Towering at about 7ft tall with a wingspan of 11ft, the Mothman transformation brings with it strength double that of a normal person, claws that are as sharp as a bear's, and heightened senses. He is sensitive to air current shifts, temperature changes, and the air pressure changes associated with sound. His eyesight is excellent in the dark and his field of view is nearly 360 degrees. While in this form, he is capable of using his main means of offense and defense: Moonlight Moth Magic. [hider=An Amazingly Accurate Statue] [i]While the statue is a good example of just about everything in Mothman's appearance, it lacks the coloration, and he long fuzzy antennae sprouting out of his head. He is rather brightly colored like an Elephant Hawk Moth. The Wings' torn and tattered appearence are accurate to their damage at the time the artist recalls "sighting" Mothman.[/i] [img]http://i.imgur.com/iJhf473.png[/img] [img]http://butterfly-conservation.org/files/elephant-hm-3_for_web_keith-warmington.jpg[/img] [/hider][/hider] [color=8BA2DB]Moonlight Moth Magic:[/color] Mothman absorbs the energy of the sun during the day and is only capable of using his magic at night. His people were nocturnal, so they developed this magic to aid them in fighting the creatures of the night. His particular training allows him to create a Great-Shield and Broadsword out of "Moonlight". They are just as sturdy as steel and feed off a steady supply of his stored sunlight energy. [color=8BA2DB]Flying:[/color] He can fly with his great wings and rarely need rest. He can fly up to a hundred miles per hour with exertion but, he can maintain forty miles per hour, without need for halting, up to two hours. He prefers flying as a main means of locomotion and it's not unusual to see him partially transformed and fluttering about. No wonder "sightings" of him pop up every now and then. [color=8BA2DB]Sports and Fitness:[/color] Being a rather competitive person culturally, Mothman enjoys bonding over sports, a marathon, or just a nice day at the gym. He's usually only ever found in the gym when he's out, unless he's lingering around his [i]best friend ever's[/i] taco truck. Mothman regularly challenges others to "benchpressing" competitions and he very rarely loses-- seriously, he may not have the huge muscles, but he is definitely strong. Going on a run with Mothman is usually a half-day event. [color=8BA2DB]Professional Janitor:[/color] Known as the "night sweeper" due to his job as a janitor, Mothman takes only night shifts, and cleans at as many places as his schedule allows him to. He's seen and found a lot of strange things while having this job. Cleaning up after other Tales in the night will get those results, it seems. Usually when he's seen out and about during the day, it's because he's awake specifically for meeting [i]Chupacabra[/i]. [color=8BA2DB][u]Weaknesses and Flaws:[/u][/color] [color=8BA2DB]Moths to a Flame:[/color] An inherent weakness to fire is within Mothman and all his people. Being highly flammable when transformed, he'll go up like a dry Christmas tree if exposed to direct flame. [color=8BA2DB]Daytime? What's that?:[/color] Mothman's entire life schedule has been nocturnal since the day he was born. In fact, his senses are rather dulled during the day and his eyesight is terrible in sunlight-- shades can't even overcome that fact. He usually sleeps during the day, absorbing sunlight from his apartment windows. Waking him during the daytime is difficult and can result in his complete disorientation. [color=8BA2DB]Salt and Nectar:[/color] A very strange diet keeps Mothman alive. He needs to consume large amounts of salt, sugar, and water. His best friend Chupacabra has perfected a smoothie for him, as well as a fried dessert type dish that only he seems to have the stomach for. If he goes too long without sugar, he can experience the first stages of hypoglycemia-- these include disorientation, fatigue, anxiety, and progression to fainting. Mothman consumes roughly a quarter of his weight in these vital components each day and can't go more than a 18 hours without a meal, before potentially dying. [color=8BA2DB]Limited Moonlight:[/color] Mothman's magic runs out quickly, especially if blows are taken by the shield and sword. They can shatter-- leaving him without a chunk of his magic. Repeated shattering of the weapons will leave him completely drained of his power, only able to defend himself with his claws. He can channel the spells for his sword and shield up to four hours-- two when under heavy use. [color=8BA2DB][u]Starting Items/Trinkets:[/u][/color] [color=8BA2DB]FitBit:[/color] [i]Is it really a surprise that a guy that loves fitness has a Fitbit? Mothman almost obsessively counts his steps and how many miles he travels-- he even has a specific exercise routine for flying, too.[/i] [color=8BA2DB]Dia De Los Muertos "Sugar Skull":[/color] [i]Given to him by Chupacabra, this tiny skull is decorated in a very specific purple, yellow, and blue color pattern. It features several distinct markings related to Mothman's home culture. The name "Astmona" is painted delicately on the back of it.[/i] [color=8BA2DB][u]Other:[/u][/color] [color=8BA2DB]"Chupacabra? You mean [i]that[/i] Chupacabra?!":[/color] When and how they met is shrouded in mystery. What's obvious is that Mothman watches over Chupacabra with a large amount of care and attention, often going to great lengths to ensure her wellness, even if it means waking up during the day. More often than not, Chupacabra can be found passed out drunk somewhere in his apartment, most often atop a mound of blankets purchased just for her. They refer to each other as friends, despite the deep care they show to one another. [/hider]