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1 mo ago
Current There's a big old heat wave spreading out down here. If I'm slow with responses, it'll be because I'm melting.
6 mos ago
Just finished Soma, and wow, what a bleak ending. Like, jesus.
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12 mos ago
Does anyone even read these?


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I can't triforce

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Mougin almost thought he didn't hear it. He supposed he could have ignored it, but curiosity got the better of him this time. There was a lull in the proceedings anyway.

The minotaur sauntered onto the ship and looked around for the crate he heard moving. It was difficult, now that it wasn't making noise anymore. Mougin breathed deep and asked the wind to carry sound to him. Another foundational technique of the Bighorn tribe. Though it was easier to use on the wind swept plateaus, it should be enough to satisfy his curiosity. Various conversations floated through the air. Officer Charles was talking with his current employer (perhaps he should greet him later on), the man with metal arms was talking with their lithe (but apparently very strong) co-worker, and he could even here the beeps and whirs of the machinery busily ferrying crates to and fro. He ignored all of that and focused on the crates. Soon enough he could hear a light thumping from one of them, and he walked towards it.

The mystery deepened as he got closer. A familiar scent wafted from the crate, the scent of home. But if that was the case, why was it moving? There seemed to be crying coming from the container too. Now he had to know. Briefly, he contemplated if it was worth risking the ire of his employer to simply satisfy his own curiosity.

The minotaur's broad fingers pried the opening of the crate, lifting. The lid of the crate opened with a loud crack and revealed the 'cargo'. Children were inside, very obviously beastmen children, in various states of distress. Mougin was very confused.
Murphy sat on a park, drinking from a flask of water. He nervously adjusted his coat, looking around as if he was waiting for something. Which was, of course, what he was doing, but even to him, it was unclear what he was waiting for. There were probably better things for him to be doing - the professor had sent him out to grab some prints, the custodian was looking to schedule a visit soon, and Vincent had asked him to pick up some donuts on the way back. But Murphy... had a feeling.

Oh how he hated the phrase, so frustratingly vague and undescriptive. But even if it dealt in vagueries, the Moth God had been right every time. He didn't know what would happen, or when it would happen, or precisely where it would happen. For someone like him who liked to be right on time, it was a hairpulling experience. But something always would happen, some disaster would strike just when Murphy convinced himself he had imagined the impulse, and he would throw himself into the fray once again. Whatever occurred in the park today, the Magnificent Moth Man would be there to help. It was what he had to do, and the occassional Tribune headline focused on him didn't hurt either.

Murphy checked his watch impatiently. He hoped that whatever it was that happened, it would happen soon. He hoped that he could at least get to the print shop before it closed.
Once again, Mougin's attention was taken up by differences. One familiar face nearby, and another unfamiliar face. But why only 3 workers? Compared to the immense scale of the docks, their work was tiny. Furthermore, the security was stronger. The dock didn't have much security, and they just sort of let Mougin through when he said he was looking for work. The security for this operation was clearly much more thorough.

The minotaur stared at the guard. His clothes were thicker, and he was holding something. Armour and a weapon, presumeably. He didn't know what armour or weapon though, because he was never interested. Beastmen tended to rely on magic and their own bodies, so he didn't even know where to start with what the guard was wearing. Regardless of how protective the armour was, surely the absence of head protection would pose its own challenges?

What, the weapon? What about the weapon? He didn't know a single thing about human weapons. Real men only use their fists, or so his father had told him. Although, Mougin didn't really agree with that...

The brown furred minotaur snapped out of his reverie as instructions were yelled. Right, work. Perhaps the exhaustion was getting to him. He quickly got back into the groove, picking up boxes and handing them down to the forklifts. When there were no forklifts he moved them himself, drawing a little strength from the earth to alleviate the burden. The work was somewhat easier than this afternoon's, so he had a little more strength to spare. He paused whilst holding a crate and scanned the area, wondering how his fellow workers were doing.
@Omega Man Alright, there we go. A bit brief and no pictures, because I'm bad at finding em. Have a look and tell me what you think.

Mougin's hands paused. Not being well versed in the ettiquette of using cutlery, he had opted to use his tongue to carefully sample each dish. He would usually go at it hands and all, but that would probably be rude. Each dish was quite delectable, regardless of how he ate it. But he still ate carefully. Food didn't come from nowhere, and it required effort to make. Thus, there was an unspoken desire for reciprocation. A return for their efforts. Mougin suspected that his man was the same.

The man's request was suspect. It was in what he said, or rather, what he hadn't said. 30 coins were earned for a hard day's work, and this man claimed that he could let Mougin do the same work for a lesser amount of time, with the same amount of pay. The math didn't add up. It was true that things would be harder after the sun went down. As everyone knew, mana came from the sun. Living beings absorbed mana from the sun's rays during the day, and when the sun went away at night, the flow stopped. It wasn't as if the mana was gone all together, though. Perhaps the tiny trickle that seeped in through the night came from the moon. Or the stars. Mougin wouldn't know, he was no astrologer.

In any case, the minotaur had regained a healthy stock of mana over the sunset period. Tired as he was, he never forgot to save some his resources for an emergency. With that stockpile he should be able to complete the task fairly easly. That was what made the man's request suspicious. Even so, the man had treated him to dinner.
"Very well." Mougin said, getting up from his seat. "In return for the meal, I will cooperate."
Effort for effort. Goodwill should be reciprocated, even to the most suspicious people.
Still room for one more? Looking for to make someone with a Mothman theme. Not exactly the right time period, but nevermind.
Mougin snorted. Well, he couldn't exactly say no to that, could he? Not with his current financial situation.
"Lead the way, and I will listen." He said to the man.
It wouldn't hurt to hear what he had to say afterwards, surely.
Elio felt the burn in his body. He considered letting it out, letting it breathe. It would be easy, effortless even. All he had to was let it flow, follow the channels, and project it out of his open palms... But he quickly crushed his desires into his fist. It had taken him some time to arrive at this mansion, and for a good portion of that, he had been walking. With nothing better to do, he had practised his new 'ability'. He wanted to know what it was, how it worked. He wanted to control it, so that he wouldn't burn anymore of his belongings. His progress was... disappointing.

The chief issue was its frustrating inconsistency. Sometimes, things would go fine. He would think of a form for it, and it would come out more less like he wanted it too. As for every other time, well. Elio had mostly been travelling in the wilderness with no one around, and that had proven to be a wise decision. His parents' book had helped, or maybe it hadn't. Sometimes, before he released the energy, he could feel whether it would be good or bad for him. He still didn't know how it would end up, and it didn't work all the time, but sometimes he would have a bad feeling, and every time he released his magic with that bad feeling, bad things happened. A pretty clear and obvious association, but he couldn't help but be frustrated at the vagueness of it all. How much of it was because of the book, and how much of it was his own intuition?

"Do you think this is the time for that?" Elio asked, turning his head to scan the surroundings. "It feels a bit... ominous around here."
Ominous, that was a good word for it. Whether it was the chill wind blowing in, or the feeling of being watched from the windows, something felt off. He had a pretty good instinct about these kinds of things, but nothing looked out of place. Was it just him being nervous from meeting with strangers? Was it because his nerves had been worn down by the journey? Or could it have been some magical sense he had been newly awoken to?

Whatever it was, he would probably only find out after it happened. That was how things usually ended up for Elio.
"...No." Mougin said, after a pause. "I am hungry."
To be frank, he wasn't. He was tired, hungry, and worried about his savings. One and a half times what he had yesterday. If wealth was enough to attract predators, then more wealth was surely more attractive. Unfortunately for him, he still had to travel back to his lodgings to eat. The food there was... well, it was at least edible. He could have gotten something to eat with his money, but he wanted to save every penny he could. He didn't know what he would need it for.

Mougin sighed and began trudging away. He didn't really have the energy spare to think of anything other than dinner.
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