Spin The Wheel

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Today was truly a day of firsts for Jeremy, who had just accomplished two things he had never thought he could ever do. He had made a girl laugh, and then he made her cry. While the former was generally considered good, the latter was almost certainly bad. Early in his childhood, Jeremy's mother had made him swear to never make another girl cry, and this was a promise he had always followed. Even though, at the time, he hadn't known what it meant. It was an oath he had always upheld, until now.

Well, there was that one time, but that wasn't really his fault. He did apologise for it, though.

At any rate, because Jeremy continuously upheld this gentlemanly vow, he had never once seen a girl break down in front of him. Truth was, he hadn't had any experience with girls near him at all. Needless to say, this close encounter heavily flustered the young man. His first reaction was to run away, but he quickly quashed his instincts. He didn't know why she was crying, but it was his words that had caused it, and a man aught to take responsibility for his actions. And also, there were some people who saw what happened, and they were watching his every move. If he just left this girl to her fate, it would probably be very embarassing for the both of them.

Jeremy quickly scanned the area, hoping to find the solution to his predicament. Thankfully, there was a vending machine nearby. The boy decided to buy some drinks, which would hopefully help his maybe-victim calm down. He took some money out and briefly wondered what to buy. He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, still sitting on the floor, and decided against getting regular water. It was just a guess, but judging by her wet clothes and drenched hair, more water would not be appreciated. He turned back to the machine to consider his options.

There were several popular options, along with some oddball picks he had never heard of. Jeremy decided to play it safe. He inserted his money, pressed the button combination for classic cola, and then... Nothing. No clunking came from the machine, and the soda never emerged from the bottom. He pressed the refund button. A whirring sound came from the return slot... And still, nothing. Jeremy frowned, but the screen interface flashed a warning. They were out of cola. That explained the lack of soda, but what about his money?

Jeremy grimaced. Nothing he could do about it. He picked a few of the more popular drinks, all of which were apparently absent from the machine. Each attempt took a small tithe of his hard-earned money and produced no results. None of it was returned. The boy was glaring hatefully at this infernal machine, but decided on one more try. The boy watched, eyes seething with rage as another bill was swallowed by the void, but this time, he ran his hand up and down every button on the machine. He was very annoyed right now, and it wasn't like anything would come out anyway, right?

The devilish device shook ominously, as if cursing the boy for his hubris. Jeremy took a step back warily, before a dozen cans rapidly fell out from the drink slot, the storm of metal shooting onto the street and rolling underfoot.
"Ah!" Jeremy exclaimed, and his panicked attempts at dodging backfired, causing him to slam face first into the pavement. "Ugh,"

He groaned, rising up on his knees and rubbing his nose.
An errant can rolled to a stop in front of his face, and he picked it up. It was one of the esoteric options from the baffling beverage dispenser, a foreign drink from Izumo judging by the script on the front. It was apparently red bean-based.

Jeremy pocketed what cans he could and cradled the rest haphazardly in his arms. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it would have to do. He returned to the girl, battered and weary, and placed one of the cans next to her as an offering.
"Here, have a sip of this. Maybe it'll make you feel better." He said, smiling awkwardly.
He didn't know if it was good or bad, but it was the thought that counted. He had accidentally spent a much larger sum than he had intended to, but he was left with a somewhat even amount of drinks. And the point of it wasn't his satisfaction, but the girl's. Jeremy felt awash with pride at his good deed.

The boy shifted the lion's share of cans to his left hand and popped open one of them open, so he could enjoy the fruit of his labour. He took a sip and sighed.
'Wow,' Jeremy thought to himself. 'This tastes really bad.'

@Crowvette

The Six Crystals

Mougin tilted his head but still took the money. He had tried to keep an open mind about this plan, and it had somewhat gone his way, but there were several lacking elements. His inexperience soured things, perhaps. Nonetheless, some outcomes had been achieved, and that was good enough. He didn't believe the problem had been solved, but he should've known things wouldn't have been this simple.

There was nothing for it, then. Mougin picked up the crate and followed Officer Charles. The metal container was lighter without its contents, and he felt the stone under his feet support his strength. He didn't really have the energy to think about the repercussions of his actions, so he didn't. Tomorrow's matters could wait for tomorrow.

Mougin trailed after the officer, making sure the children didn't lag behind.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Jeremy was feeling pretty good. It was hard to say he had a good morning, what with the events of the haunted apartment hanging over his head. But if he could just push those memories to the back of his mind...

Jeremy's expression slowly changed from his unconscious grimace back into a loose smile, the weight of the bounty in his pockets helping him forget the less desirable memories. Really, it was pretty amazing how much wealth changed his outlook on life. The copious amounts of ginger ale he had drunk had eased his quesiness, and he had paid for it himself! Imagine how much chocolate he could buy... Well, he should probably save it for now, but that wouldn't stop him from feeling happy.

Jeremy didn't have much going on today, so he was having a relaxed stroll back to his apartment when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. In front of him was the one thing he feared the most - a girl! One older than him, at that. A very disheveled girl. His instincts warred over his nervousness and he wondered how she'd gotten hurt. It was pretty weird to see something like that in broad daylight.

Curiosity won over cowardice and Jeremy decided to approach. Maybe she needed the help of a healthy young boy with a fair amount of money.
"Um, excuse me..." He said, walking closer to the girl's back.
Closing the distance allowed him to see the extent of her injuries. It didn't seem to be anything major, but the blond haired girl seemed very tired. In fact, he could practically smell the depressive mood on her. Being this close suddenly made him somewhat nervous again.
"Miss, a-are you alright?" He managed to say.

@Crowvette

The Six Crystals

Mougin was a rather withdrawn child. He often shunned labourous chores for exploring the nooks and crannies of the mountain. He did it so often that it was truly baffling that his parents hadn't yet taken him to task, and it was equally bewildering to his peers that he didn't simply disappear on one of his expeditions. Regardless, he had been told by the elders that his youthful truancy would lead to a weak body. He had scoffed then, but he couldn't scoff now.

Every step was a struggle. To balance, to endure, to make sure his path was straight, everything. Really, he hadn't thought this out. He might not make it up to shore, which would put a serious hamper in his plan. Miraculously the package became larger. He turned back to see the woman concentrating, hand on the metal container. A new kind of magic, it seemed. Her interference made her an accomplice, which could potentially complicate matters. But that was her perogative, and maybe she had her own way out.

If they both made it out of this in one piece, he would ask to learn her magic.

Mougin marched forward. Officer Charles had already arrived nearby, Mr. Silum in tow. How convenient. The minotaur silently stepped down the gangway, reflecting on his plan on the cusp of its execution. It utilised several things he had learned thus far from his prior experience in this city, mostly things from yesterday. From almost being stolen from he learned a few things about how crimes were identified - Officer Charles was reluctant to arrest the teenagers because he himself hadn't seen the wrongdoing. The teenagers would not admit it and Mougin himself didn't either, because the attempt was unsuccessful. He wasn't sure what a 'crime' was, but the teenagers seemed to believe it could be seen as one. So they employed deceit, and pleaded innocent.

While had no time to check whether 'slavery' was a crime or not, Mr Silum acted like the teenagers he had met yesterday. He put on a mask of innocence, unaware that Mougin was looking at his wrongdoings. It was a crime, then, or something that could be interpreted as one. If the Officer of the Law did not see the crime occur, it was difficult to prove the wrongdoing existed. If he did not see any evidence, he couldn't be sure of a crime. Therefore, the first step of the plan was to produce evidence.

The minotaur shrugged the metal container off his shoulder and he felt the weight of it rapidly increase as he removed the box from the woman's touch. Mougin winced in his mind; this would not be comfortable for the children. But it had to be done. He let the box fall to the ground with a loud clang and the lid popped off towards Officer Charles and the group. Several children came tumbling out of the metal receptacle. Before anyone could react, Mougin took 2 confident steps forward and initiated the next step in his plan.

The Mob was an object of fear for the metal-armed man. If they could touch Mougin's home, plunder its resources, take its people, then they clearly had immense influence. But if that was the case then why the pretense of innocence? Why did Mr Silum fear the law? It seemed clear to him that, while The Mob was not above the Law, they had the ability to go around The Law. Even if Mougin did not commit a crime in the eyes of the Law, The Mob may press charges against him their own way. He needed to be under the protection of the Law, to protect himself from The Mob. Therefore, his second step was to perform a crime.

Mougin came to a stop in front of Officer Charles and raised a clenched fist, bringing it down on top of the officer's head in one smooth motion to thump him hard on the head. He was still unsure of what exactly constituted a crime, but he was sure that unbidden violence was one of those things. His blow was firm, to prove his seriousness, but he had tried to be gentle to his aqcuantance.

It was really a strange coincidence that Charles would be the one at the dock tonight; if Mougin made it out of this in one piece, he would have to buy him lunch.

The Six Crystals

Mougin is aware of what slavery is (though he wasn't really aware about how people profited from it), and he knows what a mob is. He doesn't know what the mob is, though. Even if it was only a one word difference, it seemed to hold a much larger significance. Another annoying quirk of human linguistics.

The minotaur sighed and closed his eyes. Understanding was one thing he was bad at, but he had always been a good listener. The wind brought the sounds nearby towards his ear. More information to glean from. More to understand. Already he was making new associations in his brain. The metal-armed man feared The Mob, thus their employer was probably part of that group, whatever they were. Mougin and the metal-armed man were of similar status, from what he could see, so The Mob clearly had significant influence. Yet a member of theirs deferred to officer Charles, an enforcer of the Law. And even then, it seemed that The Mob were active outside of the city itself, as far away as his own home continent.

He felt as if he was catching a glimpse of a large tangled web of connections. As an outsider it was hard for him to say where to step. Which lines were safe to cross and which would thrust him into the spider's mouth? But, truth be told, it didn't matter that much to him. His people's opinions were that humans always overthought. Mougin thought that his peers could stand to think some more, but he agreed. His understanding of spoken language was shaky, and the deceptions they weaved, obvious or obfuscated, didn't help at all. But he was starting to be able to see through the smoke.

At its core, the metal-armed man's statement was borne of concern for his position in society. To live, one needs food. In this city, one bought food with gold. For gold, one had to work. Control the work, control food, control the individual. Their mutual employer, Mr. Silum, was the one who gave them work, thus it was obviously possible for them not to do so. And apparently he also had the means to prevent future work. But did that matter to Mougin? No. His people were of the wilds; if he needed food, he was confident that he could find it. But employment was only one part of the puzzle, and perhaps Mr. Silum and The Mob could make sure he would never have a comfortable stay in Tempum city. Did that matter to Mougin? No. There were many nations of men, and while there were some less friendly to beastmen than others, he had come to this city mostly because of its proximity. True, it would be difficult to live outside of a city, and quality of the food in the wild was vastly inferior to what human chefs made. True, if he went through with this stunt, Mr Silum, or The Mob, or anyone else could end his life. Cut his journey just when it had begun. But again, none of that mattered. His mind was made up. He had a choice, and these little ones did not. In front of humans, in front of his own, he would never be the lesser man.

Mougin opened his eyes. The plan was coming together in his mind, slowly. But time was not kind. He would have to work it out while he acted.
"If you do not wish to be involved, then do not be." He said, rising to his feet. "All that I ask is that you do not interfere."
It was best if neither of his two co-workers involve themselves in the forthcoming events. Implication of some kind was inevitable, and nothing they did would be able to soften the blow. Not to achieve what he wanted to achieve. He stared down at the lid of the container in his hands, the overheard words of Mr. Silum echoing in his ears.

Mougin leaned over the edge of the container. He whispered some comforting words to them in the mother tongue, before gently placing back on top of the container. Then, he slowly lifted the crate up above his head, letting it rest on his shoulders like a yoke. It was... extremely heavy, and very large, making it extremely awkward to maneuver. His head was bowed forward, making it difficult to see where he was going. He knew his strength wouldn't last very long. But that was fine - if he timed it correctly, he wouldn't be holding it for very long. And besides, the plan wasn't relying on brute strength, but humankind's beloved deception. He was relying on his previous experiences in the city, brief as they were, along with some tenuous connections he had not had the opportunity to check. The plan was built on shaky foundations, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice. It was simple, and held little consideration for his future in the city. But he didn't really mind. If he succeeded then he would be safe enough, and the children would be alright too.

If he failed, then so be it.

The Six Crystals

That was what he wanted to know. At a glance it was fairly obvious what they were looking at; a collar created for containing beastmen was upon beastmen children, who were inside of a crate. But Mougin wasn't entirely sure why they were here, his tired brain not working quick enough to glean an answer. People weren't cargo, as far as he knew, but the box was on a cargo ship, so it was presumeably cargo. For what, though? Or rather, to where? To the not particularly worldwise minotaur, this was a strange turn of events.

So, he decided to ask. And conveniently, there were two people here to answer him.
"What profit is there in ferrying children?" He wondered aloud.
That was probably his most pertinent question.

The Six Crystals

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.

Mean Streets of Steel City

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.

Mean Streets of Steel City

Murphy

Name: Murphy Montgomery

Alias: The Magnificent Mothman

Age: 22

Appearance: With short, messy black hair and blue eyes, Murphy takes on the appearance of a classical English youth. He's of average height and build, and wears wire rim glasses. He doesn't have many outfits, usually wearing a cheap suit or some kind of archeological uniform. In his guise as the Magnificent Mothman his body is obscured in shadow, as if he's wearing a full black body suit. His eyes become massive, and a pair of moth wings sprout from his back.

Power/Skills: The legacy of the ancient Moth God granted Murphy mysterious powers. When crisis comes, Obscurity's Veil wraps Murphy like a coat, turning the timid post-graduate into the Magnificent Mothman! His body, face and voice become shrouded in shadow, and the moth's wings sprout from the back of the veil allowing him to glide through the air. The Mothman is a messenger of disaster, and thus he has an almost prophetic sense for danger. He will be there before disaster strikes, and his Hipnotic Gaze allows him to lead civilians to safety, moving them with their own two feet outside the danger zone. His gaze can of course be used against his opponents, but those aware of his power are can guard themselves against it. Aside from his mystical moth powers, Murphy is gifted with a sharp mind and keen observation skills, allowing him to quickly glean clues and chase leads.

Equipment: A notebook

Personality: Murphy is timid by nature, a young man still unsure of his place in his world. But he is also endlessly curious, and has a strong sense of justice. He is usually more at home by himself, poring over some old map or reading an ancient book, and is rarely in the company of others. His guise as the Mothman gives him courage, however, courage to face the dangers that lurk in the shadows. Rather than fighting enemies directly, he likes to outrun or outwit them. Bait them into other enemies, or into environmental hazards. Murphy is not a potent fighter on his own, but shines in disrupting the enemy, and putting together the pieces of a mystery.

Brief Bio: A freshly graduated student with big dreams, Murphy became an anthropologist, focusing on the history and culture of Native America. Based on some clues he found in an old explorer's journal, Murphy planned an expedition through Native American land in search of new discoveries. And discover he did. He happened on the Lost Idol of the Moth God and was imbued with is powers, becoming its champion. The Moth God's whispers have led him to Steel City, where newly emerged superheroes and supervillains sow discord in the streets. Murphy believes that all of this is a symptom of a greater threat, and it's his duty to uncover and defeat it, whatever form it takes.

The Six Crystals

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.