04-15-2019, 10:33 PM
[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: mentions alcohol, blood, profanity, violence, religion
Mike shot Cat a rather disagreeable look, knowing exactly what the leader was referring to, though not really wanting to explain it to anyone. The tension between the two was probably not the greatest thing, and he wasn't all that happy that Cat was in this space with him, honestly leaving seemed like a decent option, though it would be rude, and a bit pointless to do that now.
At least someone else was going to board it up, not him. He'd spent quite a lot of time fixing shit up, and he was thoroughly tired by it. Then again, everything he did was exhausting these days, especially with no weapons (not that he actually needed them, but that wasn't the point.) Dark eyes followed the movements of the people, flickering to Gabe as he arrived on the scene looking like a star struck puppy.
Honestly, Gabe was a decent kid, didn't really belong in the Badlands, but for that mattered did Mike? He was currently in deep shit for being too violent, so... some could argue that he didn't belong here either. Though where else he fucking belonged was beyond him. As Angel spoke Mike coughed, trying, oh so hard to stifle the chuckle that wanted to burst from his lips, unsuccessfully.
His dower face turned from a glower to a bit of a grin, her insult wasn't well placed, but the effort was appreciated. "More of a second baseman myself." Was Michael's response. It would be lost on the younger generation who probably had not followed baseball before the blackout, or actually been alive before the blackout either.
"Seems to me that you're busy vandalizing." He shot back, though his grim demeanor was a lot less intimidating, his arms were still crossed, but he was no longer stiff and annoyed, more relaxed and amused. It was a change in his appearance, but a good one, most would argue, though he didn't know if he liked his laid back self all that much.
Mike looked away as she changed, a force of habit, and only looked back when she asked what Cat thought, he was sure it wasn't his opinion that she wanted, but eh, he'd give it anyways. "It's decent." He shrugged, honestly, fashion didn't matter all that much to him, he preferred practicality, and it seemed like the hoodie was a better fit for her, and if that was something she liked, well, why not?
Gav, asking Cat their opinion on a hat, no, no, it was not a look, well not in Mike's mind. He wasn't a fan of hats anyways, they usually seemed pointless, then again, who was he to judge? He wasn't some connoisseur of fashion. The man quirked an eyebrow, and half a thought sprung to his mind as his eyes caught on something tucked behind a number of items, definitely miscategorized.
Grabbing the mildly distressed jean camo jacket quickly, his eyes moved to another rack of clothing, and with a furrowed brow he glanced at Angel for a moment trying to gauge her size. Pulling a tank top off the rack, he paired them together and nodded to himself. He held the two items out to Angel, "Try this," He offered, now if only he could find a good pair of shoes...
God he sounded like his wife, subconsciously he crossed himself with his free hand.
tw: mentions alcohol, blood, profanity, violence, religion
Mike shot Cat a rather disagreeable look, knowing exactly what the leader was referring to, though not really wanting to explain it to anyone. The tension between the two was probably not the greatest thing, and he wasn't all that happy that Cat was in this space with him, honestly leaving seemed like a decent option, though it would be rude, and a bit pointless to do that now.
At least someone else was going to board it up, not him. He'd spent quite a lot of time fixing shit up, and he was thoroughly tired by it. Then again, everything he did was exhausting these days, especially with no weapons (not that he actually needed them, but that wasn't the point.) Dark eyes followed the movements of the people, flickering to Gabe as he arrived on the scene looking like a star struck puppy.
Honestly, Gabe was a decent kid, didn't really belong in the Badlands, but for that mattered did Mike? He was currently in deep shit for being too violent, so... some could argue that he didn't belong here either. Though where else he fucking belonged was beyond him. As Angel spoke Mike coughed, trying, oh so hard to stifle the chuckle that wanted to burst from his lips, unsuccessfully.
His dower face turned from a glower to a bit of a grin, her insult wasn't well placed, but the effort was appreciated. "More of a second baseman myself." Was Michael's response. It would be lost on the younger generation who probably had not followed baseball before the blackout, or actually been alive before the blackout either.
"Seems to me that you're busy vandalizing." He shot back, though his grim demeanor was a lot less intimidating, his arms were still crossed, but he was no longer stiff and annoyed, more relaxed and amused. It was a change in his appearance, but a good one, most would argue, though he didn't know if he liked his laid back self all that much.
Mike looked away as she changed, a force of habit, and only looked back when she asked what Cat thought, he was sure it wasn't his opinion that she wanted, but eh, he'd give it anyways. "It's decent." He shrugged, honestly, fashion didn't matter all that much to him, he preferred practicality, and it seemed like the hoodie was a better fit for her, and if that was something she liked, well, why not?
Gav, asking Cat their opinion on a hat, no, no, it was not a look, well not in Mike's mind. He wasn't a fan of hats anyways, they usually seemed pointless, then again, who was he to judge? He wasn't some connoisseur of fashion. The man quirked an eyebrow, and half a thought sprung to his mind as his eyes caught on something tucked behind a number of items, definitely miscategorized.
Grabbing the mildly distressed jean camo jacket quickly, his eyes moved to another rack of clothing, and with a furrowed brow he glanced at Angel for a moment trying to gauge her size. Pulling a tank top off the rack, he paired them together and nodded to himself. He held the two items out to Angel, "Try this," He offered, now if only he could find a good pair of shoes...
God he sounded like his wife, subconsciously he crossed himself with his free hand.
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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.