04-05-2020, 09:22 PM
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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]
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]
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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.