03-07-2020, 12:58 AM
Michael was more than a little acquainted with what it felt like to need someone in your life. For the majority of his young life, he had never known what that felt like, since he had been subjected only to the cold, distant uncaring of his mother, and the harsh, vicious abuses of his father. Neither parent did anything particularly useful, loving, or helpful for the kit, which had led to him harboring a sort of resentment toward them, rather than any sort of need. Unlike Blits, Michael hadn't been able to rely on someone else. He had been forced to learn how to adapt to situations quickly, mostly for his own sake more than the sake of anyone else. If he didn't adapt, then he would've died, killed from the sheer ignorance and disdain that his parents held for him. However, despite this, Michael Townley did indeed end up learning what it felt like to need someone within your life, so much that you would've done anything to ensure their safety. That figure in his life was, of course, Trevor. On some level, Trevor held the same position in Michael's life as Blits's beloved boyfriend held in his, although they never got to that coveted level of title. Michael was chronically panicked about his own sexuality, having been berated and mistreated at a young age just for so much as looking at other males. So the thought of referring to Trevor as his boyfriend, even when the other practically was in every way? It sent shockwaves of panic throughout Michael's entire small, chubby form.
When Michael had first met Trevor, he had thought very little of the other, considering him to just be another thug in the sea of them that resided within the loner lands, and only seeking to use the other for his own personal gain. However, before Michael could truly process what had happened, he had grown... attached. The two had become partners in crime, and Trevor had become his affectionately nicknamed muscle, despite the fact that really, Trevor was only the muscle because he was the larger of the two, not because he was really that muscular. Michael had ended up needing the other on more than just one level. He needed Trevor on a basic level because the other provided him with the strength and just the right level of craziness that he needed to pull off all 9f the heists he could come up with. Deeper down than that, however, Michael needed Trevor because he cared about him. He cared deeply for the damned, manic canine, and he knew that Trevor cared about him as well, if only because of the way that the other constantly reminded him of it, with gentle touches and secret grins. The thought of losing Trevor, just as Blits had thought he had lost his love... it would've sent Michael into angry hysterics, denying everything and stubbornly insisting that the world couldn't take the other criminal away from him. It couldn't. That had been the whole reason that Michael had ended up here, in the Typhoon. He hadn't been willing to let anyone get their damned dirty paws on the man that he needed, so he had given himself up, having no idea of where he would end up or how things would go from there. He was lucky he had ended up in the Typhoon, rather than dead in a ditch somewhere.
Now, here in the Typhoon, Michael still felt that same need for Trevor as before. The canine had returned to him, however, as the coyote somehow always did, which meant that Michael's smaller, more base needs were now coming to the forefront again. Such as the need for things. The bobcat had really thought that stealing from Blits would be a piece of cake, because – regardless of how the brightly colored male had ended up like it – Blits wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Unfortunately for the fugitive, luck was not on his side, and he found his claws scrabbling uselessly at the sand as he attempted to get the first of the bands off. All he really succeeded at doing was wrenching the metal against sensitive skin, sputtering and narrowing his gaze angrily as Blits's tail twitched and fumbled, slapping at his face with some of the movements. Somewhere deep down, Michael knew he should've been being more careful as not to wake Blits up, but it had also sort of become a matter of pride at this point. He found himself furious that he couldn't do something as simple as snatching the bands off of the creature's tail – even if many factors beyond his control were currently working against him. It was really a miracle that Blits hadn't already woken up at the first of the firm tugs on his jewelry, and Michael found himself thinking the same as he gave one last sharp tug at the band, his head falling backwards with the force of it. It didn't achieve anything. Well, it had achieved something, but that something was a far cry from what Michael had been hoping for. Blits was awake.
Had this been any other situation, Michael probably would've taken advantage of Blits's temporarily grogginess. It would've been a shitty move, but it also would've been so easy to just launch himself forward and tear at Blits's face and chest, ravaging anything and everything he could reach before he bolted. Unlike most encounters where he was caught, however, there was no gleam of rage or betrayal in Blits's eyes. Rather, there was just faint confusion, as well as a certain obliviousness that Michael was fairly sure no one else in the world besides Blits could hope to pull off. The thief found himself just staring, wide eyed, directly back at Blits's gaze, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with the situation at hand. When several seconds went by without him being screamed at or attacked, the bobcat felt a soft relieved breath leave him, thanking any god that was listening for how stupid Blits was. The mispronunciation of his name annoyed Michael slightly, but it was hardly enough to stop him from hastily coming up with an excuse, "Ah, Blits! I... I wasn't sure if you were alright, since you were kinda just sleepin' out in the open. I came lookin' for you in order to see if you had found who you were looking for..." He averted his gaze a little to glance over Blits's shoulder, the gears in his head turning slowly as he continued, "Plus I wanted t'see if you had figured out the territory just yet. I know it can be a bit confusin' for newbies..." It was all horrendous bullshit, of course, but Michael desperately hoped that Blits wouldn't be able to see that.
When Michael had first met Trevor, he had thought very little of the other, considering him to just be another thug in the sea of them that resided within the loner lands, and only seeking to use the other for his own personal gain. However, before Michael could truly process what had happened, he had grown... attached. The two had become partners in crime, and Trevor had become his affectionately nicknamed muscle, despite the fact that really, Trevor was only the muscle because he was the larger of the two, not because he was really that muscular. Michael had ended up needing the other on more than just one level. He needed Trevor on a basic level because the other provided him with the strength and just the right level of craziness that he needed to pull off all 9f the heists he could come up with. Deeper down than that, however, Michael needed Trevor because he cared about him. He cared deeply for the damned, manic canine, and he knew that Trevor cared about him as well, if only because of the way that the other constantly reminded him of it, with gentle touches and secret grins. The thought of losing Trevor, just as Blits had thought he had lost his love... it would've sent Michael into angry hysterics, denying everything and stubbornly insisting that the world couldn't take the other criminal away from him. It couldn't. That had been the whole reason that Michael had ended up here, in the Typhoon. He hadn't been willing to let anyone get their damned dirty paws on the man that he needed, so he had given himself up, having no idea of where he would end up or how things would go from there. He was lucky he had ended up in the Typhoon, rather than dead in a ditch somewhere.
Now, here in the Typhoon, Michael still felt that same need for Trevor as before. The canine had returned to him, however, as the coyote somehow always did, which meant that Michael's smaller, more base needs were now coming to the forefront again. Such as the need for things. The bobcat had really thought that stealing from Blits would be a piece of cake, because – regardless of how the brightly colored male had ended up like it – Blits wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Unfortunately for the fugitive, luck was not on his side, and he found his claws scrabbling uselessly at the sand as he attempted to get the first of the bands off. All he really succeeded at doing was wrenching the metal against sensitive skin, sputtering and narrowing his gaze angrily as Blits's tail twitched and fumbled, slapping at his face with some of the movements. Somewhere deep down, Michael knew he should've been being more careful as not to wake Blits up, but it had also sort of become a matter of pride at this point. He found himself furious that he couldn't do something as simple as snatching the bands off of the creature's tail – even if many factors beyond his control were currently working against him. It was really a miracle that Blits hadn't already woken up at the first of the firm tugs on his jewelry, and Michael found himself thinking the same as he gave one last sharp tug at the band, his head falling backwards with the force of it. It didn't achieve anything. Well, it had achieved something, but that something was a far cry from what Michael had been hoping for. Blits was awake.
Had this been any other situation, Michael probably would've taken advantage of Blits's temporarily grogginess. It would've been a shitty move, but it also would've been so easy to just launch himself forward and tear at Blits's face and chest, ravaging anything and everything he could reach before he bolted. Unlike most encounters where he was caught, however, there was no gleam of rage or betrayal in Blits's eyes. Rather, there was just faint confusion, as well as a certain obliviousness that Michael was fairly sure no one else in the world besides Blits could hope to pull off. The thief found himself just staring, wide eyed, directly back at Blits's gaze, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with the situation at hand. When several seconds went by without him being screamed at or attacked, the bobcat felt a soft relieved breath leave him, thanking any god that was listening for how stupid Blits was. The mispronunciation of his name annoyed Michael slightly, but it was hardly enough to stop him from hastily coming up with an excuse, "Ah, Blits! I... I wasn't sure if you were alright, since you were kinda just sleepin' out in the open. I came lookin' for you in order to see if you had found who you were looking for..." He averted his gaze a little to glance over Blits's shoulder, the gears in his head turning slowly as he continued, "Plus I wanted t'see if you had figured out the territory just yet. I know it can be a bit confusin' for newbies..." It was all horrendous bullshit, of course, but Michael desperately hoped that Blits wouldn't be able to see that.
[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]
— Reggan