08-13-2020, 01:04 AM
Life was sudden, and vicious, and cruel. That was a fact that Michael had accepted when he was very young, watching his world crumble around him as he was berated and abused for another day. Ever since then, he had never truly expected anything good to come from the simple act of living. He still had nightmares, on occasion, expecting everything nice and kind in his life to fall apart once again, and leave him alone. There had been a certain sense of anxiety that had lingered in his chest since he had first joined the Typhoon, and it had only grown and grown with every passing day. Not only as more good things happened for him, but also as more good things happened for others as well. After all, gradually most of the Typhoon had come to be known as either friends or family to the thief, so of course he didn't want to see any of them suffer. That's why, with every death or pitfall of misfortune that fell upon the heads of his new family, he felt pain like a stinging blade shoved right into his heart. He had thought that he wouldn't have to worry about that pain, at least not for now. Things had been going so well, and it seemed like everyone was happy. Sure, there were issues, but they were minor in the grand scheme of things. They weren't anything like this.
It was a chain reaction that had led to not only Lovekit, but Michael and Roan also showing up to offer their support and condolences to Goldie. Both Michael and his nephew had already been rushing towards the Roux-Brannon residence at the first sign of the scream of agony that left the place, but they were soon met at the entrance by Lovekit. The child had gone to check on their mother after the scream, only to see her clinging desperately to Sam's body. They hadn't known what to do, so naturally they had gone to seek Roan, the person that everyone told them to go to if someone was hurt. Roan's heart sank as soon as he heard Lovekit's words, and he touched his nose gently to his cousin's head, whispering soft reassurances. Michael winced before moving inside, along with both the medic and Goldie and Sam's child. Immediately, the atmosphere of the entire place felt... wrong. There was such a deep sense of sick, and sadness, and mourning, and Michael wanted desperately to run from it, but he also knew that he couldn't. He cared for Goldie, as much as the captain tended to terrify him. So, he kept moving forward, flanked by both Lovekit and Roan, until he eventually reached the door to Goldie and Sam's bedroom. The scene was just as dire as Lovekit had described, and Michael's chest tightened at the sight of it, until he felt utterly breathless.
Roan was the first of the trio to eventually move, padding forward into the room with his head hung low. The sage hesitated before he spoke, his voice pained, "Goldie... do you need medical attention? Did she... did she just pass?" He couldn't see any visible wounds on his cousin's body, but he still needed to ask. Needed to focus on the business side of everything, or he was going to fall apart. Roan had never been close to Sam, but he still felt... responsible, somehow. Unless she had died from natural causes, it should've been his job to treat her. To make sure this didn't happen. His heart sank the more he thought about it, sure that he had lost all of Goldie's trust – that he had made his cousin hate him, because he couldn't save Sam.
Lovekit was the next to move, the child rushing forward to climb onto the bed, eyes wide and face reflecting the panic he felt deep down inside. The boy stared down at Sam's body for a moment, before his gaze turned back to Goldie, muttering softly, "Mom... mom, what's wrong? What's going on? What's wrong with mama?" Lovekit couldn't help but press because he couldn't understand. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't know how to make it better. Had he done something wrong? Was Goldie angry with him? Why wouldn't Sam wake up? His mind swirled with endless questions, and Lovekit couldn't do anything but stand there, staring desperately into the face of his mother, who wasn't even trying to hold herself together.
Michael was the last to move, but the bobcat didn't move inside the room. No, that didn't feel right. He wasn't true family, and he hadn't known Sam all that well. As much as agony twisted and wrung out his heart at the sight of Goldie panicking and crying out, he knew his place wasn't in the house. So instead, he found himself muttering softly, voice barely loud enough to be heard above the general chaos happening already, "...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Goldie." He then turned, leaving the doorway and heading back into the open air. Ignoring the way that his chest tightened and squeezed, trying to choke him and leave him lightheaded, he found himself calling out, "Roxie! Roxanne! Goldie... Goldie needs you! Please!" He couldn't help the desperation that slipped into his voice, nor the distraught look on his face as he sat down outside the Roux-Brannon home, scrubbing at his face with a paw. Roxie would know what to do... she had to, right? Goldie was her niece. She'd know how to help, better than he ever could.
It was a chain reaction that had led to not only Lovekit, but Michael and Roan also showing up to offer their support and condolences to Goldie. Both Michael and his nephew had already been rushing towards the Roux-Brannon residence at the first sign of the scream of agony that left the place, but they were soon met at the entrance by Lovekit. The child had gone to check on their mother after the scream, only to see her clinging desperately to Sam's body. They hadn't known what to do, so naturally they had gone to seek Roan, the person that everyone told them to go to if someone was hurt. Roan's heart sank as soon as he heard Lovekit's words, and he touched his nose gently to his cousin's head, whispering soft reassurances. Michael winced before moving inside, along with both the medic and Goldie and Sam's child. Immediately, the atmosphere of the entire place felt... wrong. There was such a deep sense of sick, and sadness, and mourning, and Michael wanted desperately to run from it, but he also knew that he couldn't. He cared for Goldie, as much as the captain tended to terrify him. So, he kept moving forward, flanked by both Lovekit and Roan, until he eventually reached the door to Goldie and Sam's bedroom. The scene was just as dire as Lovekit had described, and Michael's chest tightened at the sight of it, until he felt utterly breathless.
Roan was the first of the trio to eventually move, padding forward into the room with his head hung low. The sage hesitated before he spoke, his voice pained, "Goldie... do you need medical attention? Did she... did she just pass?" He couldn't see any visible wounds on his cousin's body, but he still needed to ask. Needed to focus on the business side of everything, or he was going to fall apart. Roan had never been close to Sam, but he still felt... responsible, somehow. Unless she had died from natural causes, it should've been his job to treat her. To make sure this didn't happen. His heart sank the more he thought about it, sure that he had lost all of Goldie's trust – that he had made his cousin hate him, because he couldn't save Sam.
Lovekit was the next to move, the child rushing forward to climb onto the bed, eyes wide and face reflecting the panic he felt deep down inside. The boy stared down at Sam's body for a moment, before his gaze turned back to Goldie, muttering softly, "Mom... mom, what's wrong? What's going on? What's wrong with mama?" Lovekit couldn't help but press because he couldn't understand. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't know how to make it better. Had he done something wrong? Was Goldie angry with him? Why wouldn't Sam wake up? His mind swirled with endless questions, and Lovekit couldn't do anything but stand there, staring desperately into the face of his mother, who wasn't even trying to hold herself together.
Michael was the last to move, but the bobcat didn't move inside the room. No, that didn't feel right. He wasn't true family, and he hadn't known Sam all that well. As much as agony twisted and wrung out his heart at the sight of Goldie panicking and crying out, he knew his place wasn't in the house. So instead, he found himself muttering softly, voice barely loud enough to be heard above the general chaos happening already, "...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Goldie." He then turned, leaving the doorway and heading back into the open air. Ignoring the way that his chest tightened and squeezed, trying to choke him and leave him lightheaded, he found himself calling out, "Roxie! Roxanne! Goldie... Goldie needs you! Please!" He couldn't help the desperation that slipped into his voice, nor the distraught look on his face as he sat down outside the Roux-Brannon home, scrubbing at his face with a paw. Roxie would know what to do... she had to, right? Goldie was her niece. She'd know how to help, better than he ever could.
MICHAEL TOWNLEY - THE TYPHOON - PENNED BY STILLY
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