12-18-2020, 03:11 AM
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trigger warnings alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion.
tags 45 years old, difficult/hard opponent, nonviolent interactions are open, pm or ask for violent interactions.
tags 45 years old, difficult/hard opponent, nonviolent interactions are open, pm or ask for violent interactions.
"speech" 'thought' text
The smell of tea brought back memories of Jenny with her curly red hair, her dainty freckled nose, the way she walked through a room. She always smelled like tea... he’d never stopped to wonder why, but the smell brought a heavy ache to his heart. And all he wanted to do was bury his face in anything that smelled like her and breathe it in.
Twenty long years she’d been gone. And all that guilt, anger, hatred rushed back to him like a wave. He shook his head, what was Salem saying? He’d lost touch with reality and wasn’t sure exactly what she was trying to say to him. How had he been? That seemed like a loaded question. One she didn’t need to know the answer to.
Quietly he responded. "Doing alright. Yourself?" He really wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He pulled a tin of mints from his pocket and offered it to her. "I was told growing up you always bring your host a gift, it’s not much but I don’t got a lot in ways of goodies." He explained.
He climbed the stairs, the smell of pizza wafting into his nostrils. He wondered what his veggie garden could do for her pizza... he should ask if she wanted fresh vegetables... later. "What do you have by ways of protection... ms Salem?" He asked bluntly, getting to the point of his visit almost immediately. He didn’t want anyone in the badlands to be defenseless regardless of who was the boss here.
"I’m asking because I wanted to offer anything in my arsenal if... you want it." He added quickly realizing his question could raise eyebrows. He offered an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.
The smell of tea brought back memories of Jenny with her curly red hair, her dainty freckled nose, the way she walked through a room. She always smelled like tea... he’d never stopped to wonder why, but the smell brought a heavy ache to his heart. And all he wanted to do was bury his face in anything that smelled like her and breathe it in.
Twenty long years she’d been gone. And all that guilt, anger, hatred rushed back to him like a wave. He shook his head, what was Salem saying? He’d lost touch with reality and wasn’t sure exactly what she was trying to say to him. How had he been? That seemed like a loaded question. One she didn’t need to know the answer to.
Quietly he responded. "Doing alright. Yourself?" He really wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He pulled a tin of mints from his pocket and offered it to her. "I was told growing up you always bring your host a gift, it’s not much but I don’t got a lot in ways of goodies." He explained.
He climbed the stairs, the smell of pizza wafting into his nostrils. He wondered what his veggie garden could do for her pizza... he should ask if she wanted fresh vegetables... later. "What do you have by ways of protection... ms Salem?" He asked bluntly, getting to the point of his visit almost immediately. He didn’t want anyone in the badlands to be defenseless regardless of who was the boss here.
"I’m asking because I wanted to offer anything in my arsenal if... you want it." He added quickly realizing his question could raise eyebrows. He offered an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.
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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.