go to hell [o, back]

[michael t.]

Aphra and Michael didn't really have all that much in common. They were both connected to Roxie in some way, and Michael didn't really have any reason to hate the other, but it wasn't often that he found himself agreeing with her. In this case, however, he could definitely understand her anger. After all, as he came padding up beside Aphra, his head still slightly spinning from the concussion he had suffered after the meteor strike, he couldn't help but feel angry. Angry that Octane was standing there, completely carefree and uninjured, while the rest of them had been suffering and panicking over their loved ones. It didn't even seem as if he knew what had happened, and he didn't seem to care much either, beyond realizing he would need a new house. And he had the audacity to ask why people weren't a fan of him? Michael wanted to lash out, and tell him to go back to Tanglewood with Caustic, and never come back.

Ignoring the presence of Hollow – since the other didn't seem to have anything to add – Michael hissed lowly at Octane, "I don't say this often, but I agree with Aphra. Nice job up and fucking leaving us all to deal with a meteor strike. How's Caustic? Hope he's doing great." Sarcasm dripped freely from his words, coming out as a barrage of frustration and hostility. He had spent the last few days in a state of shock and dismay, injured and clinging on to those he cared about. It had been the second worst thing he had ever had to deal with in his life – coming after his torture at the hands of The Lost, obviously – and Octane was just standing there. He spat, his small tail flicking and lashing behind him as he glared at the cheetah, "If you're gonna fucking disappear on us and only come back after a major calamity, you might as well just go and live with Caustic in Tanglewood. I don't think The Typhoon has any need for fair weather crew members."

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