05-09-2019, 12:35 AM
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Mike was out rain or shine, though on the beach there was often at least some humidity in the air, and the probability of rain stemming from that was relatively high, especially in the spring months. But he didn't care, he wore what he usually wore, a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a gun slung across his back (though the gun was covered to keep it from getting wet).
He had an umbrella attached to one of his belt loops with a carabiner. He also had a pistol tucked into a hip strap, and a few knives also visible. Since getting his position as a Grunt back, he had replaced his weapons belt right away, it was a security blanket for him, yes he could fight well without the weapons, but he always felt better when he had at least one on him, just in case.
The sight of a wet and bedraggled figure brought mixed emotions to Mike, though he did find the scene before him amusing, he knew he shouldn't, he knew he should feel sympathy for them boy, and maybe a small part of him did. But he did know that without trials, growing was next to impossible, and growth was important, change, development, hell, without half the shit he'd been through, he wouldn't be the same man as he was.
Was that a good thing or bad thing though? Interesting question that he posed himself, not one he really was disposed to answer at the moment. He jogged forward, wincing at the aggravation that it caused his still healing leg. Stopping a few paces from where the dripping figure was. He had a grin on his battered, and healing face. Reaching to his belt, he unhooked the umbrella and tossed it towards Howard.
"Yo kid, what brings you out here in the rain?" He asked cheerfully.
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[div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 13px; line-height: 13.5px; text-align: justify; padding: 4px; color: #000000; opacity: .75"]"speech" 'thought' text ||[abbr=thoughts of violence, blood, murder, mentions of alcohol, religion, injury, broken bones, blood]Hover for TWs[/abbr]Mike was out rain or shine, though on the beach there was often at least some humidity in the air, and the probability of rain stemming from that was relatively high, especially in the spring months. But he didn't care, he wore what he usually wore, a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a gun slung across his back (though the gun was covered to keep it from getting wet).
He had an umbrella attached to one of his belt loops with a carabiner. He also had a pistol tucked into a hip strap, and a few knives also visible. Since getting his position as a Grunt back, he had replaced his weapons belt right away, it was a security blanket for him, yes he could fight well without the weapons, but he always felt better when he had at least one on him, just in case.
The sight of a wet and bedraggled figure brought mixed emotions to Mike, though he did find the scene before him amusing, he knew he shouldn't, he knew he should feel sympathy for them boy, and maybe a small part of him did. But he did know that without trials, growing was next to impossible, and growth was important, change, development, hell, without half the shit he'd been through, he wouldn't be the same man as he was.
Was that a good thing or bad thing though? Interesting question that he posed himself, not one he really was disposed to answer at the moment. He jogged forward, wincing at the aggravation that it caused his still healing leg. Stopping a few paces from where the dripping figure was. He had a grin on his battered, and healing face. Reaching to his belt, he unhooked the umbrella and tossed it towards Howard.
"Yo kid, what brings you out here in the rain?" He asked cheerfully.
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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.