[align=center] [div style="borderwidth; width: 400px; padding: 1px; text-align: justify; color: #4B3E2D; line-height: 14px; font-size: 11pt; font-family:timesnewroman"] "speech" 'thought' text
tw: alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion
Mike hadn't been doing all that much, hadn't been out a lot. Something about getting shot in the shoulder seemed to put a damper into all his usual "pep". Granted he wasn't the most outgoing guy, didn't often seek out conversations with people. But, that didn't mean he wasn't active around the town.
That is, until now. There were few occasions he actually took time off to recover. When he'd been shot in the leg, when he'd lost two of his toes, and right now. There were other occasions, but those were in other circumstances, war... mostly, a few post blackout when Jenny had stitched him up and refused to let him leave the house.
Ah Jenny, Mike took a moment to look up at the ceiling, that woman... she had been the best thing in his life, and he'd let it slip away... and now Will, the child they had created out of their love... he was gone too. That sweet. Innocent boy. His throat felt tight, and he took a few minutes to choke down the tears that threatened to swell out.
His eyes had bags under them. Something about not being able to sleep that well made his nights pretty terrible. Ah well, he had started a pot of coffee, and it still was brewing, he liked his coffee strong, he had a cellar dug, it was nice and cool, and only a quarter mile from his home, in there he kept his root vegetables, salted and smoked meats, and other goodies.
Mike grunted as he moved to the stove, jarring movements sometimes caused a bit of pain, but today he was just a bit out of sorts. His house was a bit untidy, the bed hadn't been made, (not that it was much of a bed anymore. Just a straw stuffed mattress on the ground). The dark haired man hadn't cut his hair in a while either, and his beard was beginning to sprout, he needed to shave soon...
Perhaps he'd prevail on someone to give him a had... quite literally in this case, the repetitive motion of shaving was sure to cause him a severe amount of pain, unless he shaved with his other hand, then he was liable to lose his nose and ear. Mike poured some of the strong coffee into a cracked mug, and put it on the table, pouring a touch of honey into the cup.
It was hard to find honey around here, but he had his ways... mostly by trading food and such with traders who had bees. At any rate, it was coffee time. He carefully sat down in the sturdier of his two chairs, and took a quick, testing sip of the hot drink, still a bit hot, so he blew on it. Ah coffee in the morning, what was better?
[member=210]darky[/member] [member=9896]capt. salem[/member]
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
| | | YOU'RE A VILLAINOUS THING
AND WE CAN'T HAVE YOU LIVING A LIE
Salem had been injured before, shot before; shot rather recently, in fact. In his right ankle, causing a rather unfortunate amount of pain and a persistent limp he'd simply decided to ignore until it went away; hopefully it went away.
But he hadn't had anybody to care for him when he'd been wounded and struggling; he had much the opposite, as his and Cat's power struggle reached a crescendo and all hell broke loose. Now it was sort of healed, but he knew how much of a bitch it was to deal with and he'd rather Mike not go through the first weeks alone with his own injury.
So bright and early in the morning, Salem packed his bag with a few mildly-bruised apples he'd purchased from some traders the other day and headed out. Mike really ought to sleep in, the extra rest would do him good; but Salem was confident Mike had at least been up for an hour now, since he was nothing if not consistently responsible to the point of self-destruction.
The smell coming from the little shack confirmed Salem's suspicions, and he came to a stop at the door and knocked on it politely three times. He wanted to burst in, just to reaffirm he could as Mike's leader, but he had no idea how heavily Mike locked his door and he'd rather not fail at kicking in a door this early in the morning.
[justify]Waste no worry for the world, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty | He/Him or They/Them Pronouns | 28yrs Old | 6'3"| Leader of the Badlands | Former pirate captain | Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all; Panromantic and attracted solely to people who radiate power]&[/abbr]
Let it be a tragedy of love and glory, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death or capture | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
While they wait by gates of pearl, [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Choppy short dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off | Walks with noticeable limp, favors his right leg]&[/abbr]
We'll be building palaces in purgatory, [abbr=There are no extra tags this is just for aesthetic]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]
TAKING LESSONS FROM THE DELUDED top dog salem - he/him or they/them
tags in template
[align=center] [div style="borderwidth; width: 400px; padding: 1px; text-align: justify; color: #4B3E2D; line-height: 14px; font-size: 11pt; font-family:timesnewroman"] "speech" 'thought' text
tw: alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion
The knock at the door startled him, and the cup shook a little as he stood up, spilling hot coffee on the table, and a bit on his hand. "Damn!" Was his eloquent response to his hand getting burned a little. Coffee cup on the table, he walked towards the door, undoing the bolt.
He opened the door to greet Salem, who was there, looking... much like Salem often did. He flexed his mostly good hand, the burning feeling beginning to subside. Seemed like the coffee wasn't hot enough to do any real injury. "Hey Salem. What brings you here so early?" He queried. Salem didn't seem like the kind of guy to be up and at 'em early in the morning.
Call it lack of confidence in the younger generation... or perhaps he was being too harsh, some kids woke up early, though, some did not. He shrugged his shoulders, to himself, though he supposed Salem could construe that as towards him. "Come on in." He added, swinging the door open wider, and jerking his head inwards.
Without waiting for an answer he walked towards his wood stove, and grabbed another mug, not as chipped as his favorite mug, actually only had one little nick in it. "Care for some coffee?" He was something of a good cook, and beverage maker. He hadn't had any complaints on the taste of his coffee or tea, or perhaps that was because there wasn't much to go around, so no one knew a good cup if it bit them in the face.
Speaking of cooking, he had to start some breakfast. But what? Probably some smoked salmon and sweet potatoes. That sounded pretty edible. But it was a twenty minute walk to the cellar and back. Not that it was much of a walk, but walking a lot tended to jar his shoulder quite a bit.
Without waiting for Salem to answer, he poured the coffee in the cup, hadn't met many people who turned down a cup of hot coffee. Pre and post apocalypse. He gestured to one of the chairs at the table, and put the cup down, sitting down across, carefully, and taking another sip of his coffee, still hot, but not as hot. "What can I do for you today?" He inquired politely.
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
| | | YOU'RE A VILLAINOUS THING
AND WE CAN'T HAVE YOU LIVING A LIE
The cursing coming from inside was fun; Salem's mouth quirked up into a smile as he heard that, and he kept that small, smug look even as Micheal opened the door. "Good morning to you too, old man," Salem said, his tone of friendly teasing without too much bite in it.
He entered when offered, but didn't immediately sit; instead he looked around Mike's home, taking in the patched-up feeling of it. Yeah, he'd never understand why Mike didn't just move.
"I'd be a fool to turn it down," He turned his attention to coffee, now fully embracing the smell of it wafting through the air. Sure, he'd never had coffee before the blackout and therefore didn't know what high quality coffee tasted like, but it smelled good and that was enough to sate him.
"Well I wanted to check up on you, make sure you weren't beheaded in the forest," Salem's joking was on the morbid side as he moved to take a seat, only to have the chair collapse underneath him as he tried to sit.
With an indignant cry followed by a small whimper of pain, Salem scrambled away from the mess of broken wood. He simply gaped, anger clouding his mind and stopping any words from forming, but his face was a contorted mess of fury and indignancy.
[justify]Waste no worry for the world, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty | He/Him or They/Them Pronouns | 28yrs Old | 6'3"| Leader of the Badlands | Former pirate captain | Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all; Panromantic and attracted solely to people who radiate power]&[/abbr]
Let it be a tragedy of love and glory, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death or capture | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
While they wait by gates of pearl, [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Choppy short dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off | Walks with noticeable limp, favors his right leg]&[/abbr]
We'll be building palaces in purgatory, [abbr=There are no extra tags this is just for aesthetic]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]
TAKING LESSONS FROM THE DELUDED top dog salem - he/him or they/them
tags in template
[align=center] [div style="borderwidth; width: 400px; padding: 1px; text-align: justify; color: #4B3E2D; line-height: 14px; font-size: 11pt; font-family:timesnewroman"] "speech" 'thought' text
tw: alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion
Michael winced as Salem called him "old man". He wasn't particularly fond of being reminded of his growing age, even though, before the blackout he'd be considered middle aged at most. The dark haired man decided to shrug it off, ignore the insult made by Salem, though it was most likely just a joke, or attempt at teasing.
Mike had drunk amazing coffee before the blackout, some places had the best stuff he'd ever drunk. He'd even talked to purveyors of the art of coffee, who had shared some of their secrets in the action of roasting coffee. Mike sighed softly, closing his eyes for a few moments.
Salem accepted the offer of coffee, which was good, as Mike had already begun to pour the bitter, almost chocolaty drink. As Mike put the coffee down, and resumed his spot, carefully sitting down, he shrugged his shoulders to Salem's response. Just because someone had gotten the better of him once, didn't mean it would happen again.
He was about to take another sip of his drink when Salem fell to the ground, the chair collapsing beneath him. "Goddamn! You broke my chair!" Mike complained, his eyes narrowing slightly, well, Salem hadn't done it on purpose. Mike sighed deeply, putting his cup on the wood stove, and walking towards Salem, offering his good arm to help him up.
"Sorry. The chairs are... unstable." His post-accident warning, a touch lame.
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
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