Roan was gone. Michael hadn't been around for the instigating incident that had led to the kid running off, but he had certainly seen the after effects of it. He had winced as Roxie's and the others' wounds were attended to, wondering just how much it had hurt to have been hit by the electrical force of the boy. Even worse, after everything was said and done and everyone was patched up, Roxie had begun to go into a deep depression. He'd tried to give her support as she sniffled and questioned herself, wondering if she was a good enough mother, and where her baby could be. However, it was difficult for him to answer any of her questions, having never dealt with the problems of having a child before – even if he had, he doubted getting electrocuted by them was an issue most parents faced. However, needless to say, it had been clear to him that she was in a bad spot. Even worse, she had already been in a bad spot before anything involving Roan had gone down, considering Greed's "abandonment" of her and how she had been dealing with that. It was all a lot for anyone to have weighing down upon their shoulders, so Michael had chosen to indulge in one of his favorite solutions to sorrow – getting so absolutely shitfaced that you couldn't remembered anything, let alone the problems of your life. It was a coping mechanism he had utilized many a time in the past, mainly to get rid of plaguing romantic thoughts about Trevor.

It had been difficult to get Roxie to come with him to go down to the tavern, but he had dealt with more difficult tasks in the past. She insisted that she couldn't go, not wanting to be drunk in case Roan came back or needed her help, but he was quick to point out that she couldn't really help out anyways, thanks to her injuries. Even after her conceding to that, it had taken a bit more shoving to get her to go out with him, the both of them eventually showing up in the tavern in the best state that they could manage. The hour or so after that was sort of... a blur. Michael couldn't remember much of it, and he doubted that Roxie could either, but that was the point of this whole exercise, right? Right. Either way, after an hour or so of heavy drinking had passed, both Michael and his sister stumbled out of the tavern, Michael taking the lead and succeeding in tripping himself on the way out, falling face first into the sand. He grumbled loudly as he pushed himself back up, able to hear Roxie cackling in the background. Glaring up at her, he mumbled in a very thick and inebriated voice, "Stop... stop... stop laughin' at me! It ain't funny! Besides... besides, you look all silly, with all those little drink umbrellas in your fur..." He wasn't sure how many drink umbrellas that Roxie had snatched from drinks to add to her accessories, but it had to be a lot.

[member=901]ROXANNE R.[/member]