PULL THE RIPCORD ☆ crafting

[michael t.]

DEALER ❝ MIKEY ❞ THE TYPHOON

It was Roan's birthday. That was something simple enough to remember, considering Roan was his nephew. Unfortunately, ever since he had hit around nine months old, the soothsayer had never really been a big fan of actually celebrating his birthday. Hell, he hadn't even really done anything when he had hit a year old, something that had shocked Michael pretty thoroughly. Still, despite Roan's reluctance to celebrate his own birthday, Michael had decided that he was going to make something for the medic, something that he had heard the other complaining about earlier while in the tavern – his smell. The smell of death had started to cling to Roan's pelt, a side effect of his new zombified body. It wasn't hard to tell why that would be unfortunate, especially when one was meant to be working with the sick.

As a result of this, Michael had come up with a gift idea that he thought was pretty ingenious. He had taken one of the straw sun hats that Roxie had left at his house, and he had then gone out and collected a bunch of sweet smelling flowers. Not only that, but he also nabbed a few herbs from the temple itself, knowing that the scent of herbs was already familiar to Roan, and would no doubt be a comfort. Once he had all of the supplies that he needed, the bobcat curled up in front of his house, beginning to weave the flowers into the hat, and carefully placing the herbs in the brim. As he worked, he found himself muttering, a sigh leaving him, "I really hope you can't get splinters from working with straw..." Just the thought made him grimace, imagining straw piercing the soft pads of his feet as he worked.

AND ALL THIS TIME I HAVE BEEN LYING
OH, LYING IN SECRET TO MYSELF

— Reggan