FLOAT LIKE A BUTTERFLY // open

[michael t.]

Michael had never really had any particular soft spot for children. There were exceptions, of course, like he hardly minded Roan being around him as long as Roxie was too, but overall, kids just... weren't his thing. The simple American dream of a wife and kids was tempting, but honestly he also knew that sort of life probably wasn't for him. He wasn't some all American hero, he was just a thief and a liar, who had lied his way into having people who cared about him, like Roxie. He was perfectly fine with just loving them back, rather than worrying about some little kits running underfoot. So, overall, the bobcat probably wouldn't have cared much about how Aphra had treated her kids, had he been here when that all had been happening. As long as she wasn't beating them – like his father had taken such delight in doing to him – that was pretty much good enough for him.

Although he probably wouldn't have taken any issue with that, he probably would have taken an issue with Aphra's overall queenly attitude. He didn't like people lording over him, and probably never would. Seeing as how he didn't know about that little portion of her personality yet, however, Michael found himself wandering over after Ocelot without so much as a second thought. The melanistic bobcat found himself curious whenever he came upon someone new within the group, and introducing himself to others was far more entertaining than remaining inside, waiting for his wounds to heal. Michael had a faint limp to his step as he came over and sat, a bit of distance between him and Revolver, just so that he could be more comfortable. His healing wounds were still itching, and he didn't want to whack someone with a limb in an effort to scratch at them. "Hey there. Don't think I've seen ya around here before. At least not out and about... my name's Michael."

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]