03-03-2020, 11:40 PM
Michael had hardly thought much of Blits when he had first met the male. The strange, brightly colored creature that had flung himself against the bell was hardly the bobcat's type of person, if he even had a type of person. All things considered, Michael didn't really like many people, with the only one that he more than just tolerated being Trevor, and Blits was certainly a very far cry from what Trevor was. Both were loud, yes, but where Trevor was all jagged edges and danger and surprising smarts hidden in an insane package, Blits seemed to be nothing but panic and incompetence and distractions. It had been hard enough, attempting to keep his attention and eyes on Blits while the other had moved jerkily around at his joining, thanks to the bright eye searing colors the other possessed on his body. This had only been added to by the fact that Blits actually possessed something of interest to Michael. Nothing to do with his personality, mind you, but to do with the items he had on his body. Two of those items being the bands that were fit snugly around the other's tail. They had caught the sunlight bathing down upon the scene just right for Michael to see them in their full glory, slightly dirty around the edges where metal met skin and fluff, but the bobcat was sire that he could fix that. Immediately upon seeing them, Michael had felt the usual feeling that dragged him into trouble and crime and violence in the past: want.
Being a greedy asshole came naturally to Michael, and had essentially ever since he had first managed to escape away from the tyranny that his – hopefully – now dead father had enacted. However, this greed was not only a matter of nature, but also one of nurture. As a young boy, Michael had been deprived of damn near everything. Love, food, respect, any sense of wellbeing he had ever had. He had been an only child, born to a mother who didn't even care about his existence and a father whose only worry was when he would get his next drink. It had led to an environment where Michael had to scramble for every little scrap he got, making himself tough despite the baby fat that had clung to his stomach and face and the overall weakness that his runt-ish form had inspired. Once he had finally gotten away from a world where he was constantly forced to walk on eggshells and deprive himself of even the most basic of needs, Michael had done a near complete 360 from how he had been as a child. He gorged himself, fighting and taking whatever he wanted, whether it be food or jewelry or just anything else that caught his fancy. After a life where he was allowed absolutely nothing, he wanted everything, and if anyone stood in his way...? Well, let's just say that there was a reason why he and Trevor were so widely known and wanted.
Ever since Blits had joined the group, Michael had been keeping an eye on him, at least from afar. The bobcat had his own things to worry about, such as the return of Trevor and the new addition of a family of rats into his home which meant that he couldn't be ever vigilant about where Blits was and what he was doing, but he knew enough. After all, it hadn't been hard to figure out that Blits would go searching for his boyfriend after the whole fit he threw at his joining. Michael had no idea if there was even a little bit of a chance of Blits actually finding the other, but he also found that he didn't really care. All he cared about was that the strange creature was distracted, and was wearing himself out, which was most definitely an advantage for him. A tired target was always easier to anatch from than an alert one, and Michael doubted that Blits was particularly observant even when he was in top shape, so he found that he wasn't too worried about attempting to get the bands off of the other. It would be a simple plan. Get in after Blits passed out, grab the bands, and go the fuck back home so that he could lock them away in his jewelry box, hopefully to be worn at some later date long after Blits had either forgotten about them or fucked off with his missing boyfriend. It should've been the perfect plan.
And in fact, at first at least, the plan was going great. Just as expected, Blits was beginning to turn out tired from his wild goose chase – or rather, wild chicken chase – around the entirely of Typhoon territory, and Michael could tell that he was close to his breaking point. It hadn't been hard to track him then, Michael choosing to watch from a distance as he scarfed down lunch or hung out at the tavern. Eventually it had happened: Blits finally decided to lay down. Michael felt his heart jump excitedly in his chest with the usual thrill of the heist as soon as the other closed his eyes, and he dug his claws into the sandy ground to keep from getting too hasty. After all, he wanted to wait until Blits was actually asleep. After a while had passed, the con man finally decided it was safe to go for it, creeping forward carefully. Once he was near, he stretched his neck out slowly, his pearly whites digging around the bands as he tried to pull them off, tugging firmly. However, there was little give in the bands, the silver instead just shifting and spinning slightly as it stayed stubbornly in place. Michael felt hot anger and embarrassment rise up in him as he continued to tug almost viciously at one of the bands, his small body wrenching with all of his weight and still accomplishing very little. It seemed as though perhaps this heist would not be as easy as he thought.
Being a greedy asshole came naturally to Michael, and had essentially ever since he had first managed to escape away from the tyranny that his – hopefully – now dead father had enacted. However, this greed was not only a matter of nature, but also one of nurture. As a young boy, Michael had been deprived of damn near everything. Love, food, respect, any sense of wellbeing he had ever had. He had been an only child, born to a mother who didn't even care about his existence and a father whose only worry was when he would get his next drink. It had led to an environment where Michael had to scramble for every little scrap he got, making himself tough despite the baby fat that had clung to his stomach and face and the overall weakness that his runt-ish form had inspired. Once he had finally gotten away from a world where he was constantly forced to walk on eggshells and deprive himself of even the most basic of needs, Michael had done a near complete 360 from how he had been as a child. He gorged himself, fighting and taking whatever he wanted, whether it be food or jewelry or just anything else that caught his fancy. After a life where he was allowed absolutely nothing, he wanted everything, and if anyone stood in his way...? Well, let's just say that there was a reason why he and Trevor were so widely known and wanted.
Ever since Blits had joined the group, Michael had been keeping an eye on him, at least from afar. The bobcat had his own things to worry about, such as the return of Trevor and the new addition of a family of rats into his home which meant that he couldn't be ever vigilant about where Blits was and what he was doing, but he knew enough. After all, it hadn't been hard to figure out that Blits would go searching for his boyfriend after the whole fit he threw at his joining. Michael had no idea if there was even a little bit of a chance of Blits actually finding the other, but he also found that he didn't really care. All he cared about was that the strange creature was distracted, and was wearing himself out, which was most definitely an advantage for him. A tired target was always easier to anatch from than an alert one, and Michael doubted that Blits was particularly observant even when he was in top shape, so he found that he wasn't too worried about attempting to get the bands off of the other. It would be a simple plan. Get in after Blits passed out, grab the bands, and go the fuck back home so that he could lock them away in his jewelry box, hopefully to be worn at some later date long after Blits had either forgotten about them or fucked off with his missing boyfriend. It should've been the perfect plan.
And in fact, at first at least, the plan was going great. Just as expected, Blits was beginning to turn out tired from his wild goose chase – or rather, wild chicken chase – around the entirely of Typhoon territory, and Michael could tell that he was close to his breaking point. It hadn't been hard to track him then, Michael choosing to watch from a distance as he scarfed down lunch or hung out at the tavern. Eventually it had happened: Blits finally decided to lay down. Michael felt his heart jump excitedly in his chest with the usual thrill of the heist as soon as the other closed his eyes, and he dug his claws into the sandy ground to keep from getting too hasty. After all, he wanted to wait until Blits was actually asleep. After a while had passed, the con man finally decided it was safe to go for it, creeping forward carefully. Once he was near, he stretched his neck out slowly, his pearly whites digging around the bands as he tried to pull them off, tugging firmly. However, there was little give in the bands, the silver instead just shifting and spinning slightly as it stayed stubbornly in place. Michael felt hot anger and embarrassment rise up in him as he continued to tug almost viciously at one of the bands, his small body wrenching with all of his weight and still accomplishing very little. It seemed as though perhaps this heist would not be as easy as he thought.
[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]
— Reggan