11-28-2020, 02:35 AM
pills don't help, but it sure is funny! ☆ ☆ ☆
MICHAEL TOWNLEY
THE TYPHOON
DEALER
It wasn't often that Michael found himself venturing out to Haven Island, which was largely unsurprising. The dealer had never done the jungle juice entrance ritual – and had no intention of doing so – and he also knew that Trygve no longer frequented the place. Natyli still stayed there, yes, but the thief was often rather unnerved in his niece's presence, understandably guilty and awkward about the grief he had caused previously. However, recent events had caused a seed of worry to begin growing in Michael's stomach, causing the bobcat to feel rather weighed down as of late. Just recently, Natalie had been struggling with a burning feeling all over her flesh, leaving her feeling antsy and unable to calm down. That alone had been worrying enough, but when Michael had put two and two together to realize that the feeling was probably coming from Ry, his racing mind had grown even worse. So many things could've been happening, and there was little that the dealer would've been able to do about it. He could go and visit Trygve again, but there was little chance that the other would even show, or that anybody there even knew where he was. The most likely suspect to ask was Aine, but Michael didn't exactly have the time to leave either, trying to help out Roxie while Goldie was off at Tanglewood.
The fugitive had ended up stumbling upon the blood and scales left behind by Ry entirely on accident, having been out for a walk when he grew near the clearing. The sight of them, along with the scent on the air that smelled strongly like Trygve, immediately caused Michael's heart to race. Trying not to hyperventilate at the sight of his nephew and apprentice's blood, the bobcat immediately began to look around, eventually following the scent trail towards Haven Island. He was, of course, considerably slower in trying to track Ry down, considering he needed to take one of the boats out to the island, rather than fly. Once they finally touched down though, he immediately scrambled forth from the boat, short legs carrying him after the slowly fading scent. He could feel the rush of static in his ears, a clear sign of an oncoming panic attack if he didn't eventually find Trygve and get him help. Something was clearly wrong, considering the burning smell on the air that intertwined itself with Ry's scent, not to mention the blood that splattered the ground at irregular intervals.
Eventually, Michael came to the home that Trygve and Natyli had shared, mismatched blue eyes scanning over the porch before he froze. The sight of the blade that he had given to Ry, along with a bloodied scale that had been haphazardly flung, caused the thief's chest to clench painfully. He immediately began to look around, ignoring the unpleasant stinging feeling of tears beginning to well up in his eyes. His mind was racing as he looked around everywhere, questions overflowing and making the static worse. Why had Trygve left his birthday present? Why did the air smell of flames? Why was there so much blood? Every additional question made Michael feel more and more hopeless. When the dealer ended up coming up with no other signs of Trygve's presence, he found himself falling back onto the porch, his head spinning. He could feel the sting in his eyes grow worse as tears began to stain his fur, staring down at the familiar blade that rested in front of the house.
Tilting his head back, Michael let out a pained and surprisingly emotional wail, his lungs clenching and aching with the effort of it. The panic attack had already begun, and he could tell from the roar of buzzing static in his mind, and the way that his vision darkened at the edges. He needed Roxie, or Trevor, or any of his children. He needed Trygve. Where was his nephew, and what the fuck was happening to him? With pained gasps leaving him, the bobcat managed to shout, risking passing out entirely as he spent more precious breath on shouting, "Natyli! Roxie! Anyone! Trygve needs... Ry needs help..." His voice grew smaller at the end, a harsh and shaky intake of breath leaving him as he stared down at the birthday present he had given Ry. His mind raced with a million possibilities of what could've happened, making the entire situation even worse.
The fugitive had ended up stumbling upon the blood and scales left behind by Ry entirely on accident, having been out for a walk when he grew near the clearing. The sight of them, along with the scent on the air that smelled strongly like Trygve, immediately caused Michael's heart to race. Trying not to hyperventilate at the sight of his nephew and apprentice's blood, the bobcat immediately began to look around, eventually following the scent trail towards Haven Island. He was, of course, considerably slower in trying to track Ry down, considering he needed to take one of the boats out to the island, rather than fly. Once they finally touched down though, he immediately scrambled forth from the boat, short legs carrying him after the slowly fading scent. He could feel the rush of static in his ears, a clear sign of an oncoming panic attack if he didn't eventually find Trygve and get him help. Something was clearly wrong, considering the burning smell on the air that intertwined itself with Ry's scent, not to mention the blood that splattered the ground at irregular intervals.
Eventually, Michael came to the home that Trygve and Natyli had shared, mismatched blue eyes scanning over the porch before he froze. The sight of the blade that he had given to Ry, along with a bloodied scale that had been haphazardly flung, caused the thief's chest to clench painfully. He immediately began to look around, ignoring the unpleasant stinging feeling of tears beginning to well up in his eyes. His mind was racing as he looked around everywhere, questions overflowing and making the static worse. Why had Trygve left his birthday present? Why did the air smell of flames? Why was there so much blood? Every additional question made Michael feel more and more hopeless. When the dealer ended up coming up with no other signs of Trygve's presence, he found himself falling back onto the porch, his head spinning. He could feel the sting in his eyes grow worse as tears began to stain his fur, staring down at the familiar blade that rested in front of the house.
Tilting his head back, Michael let out a pained and surprisingly emotional wail, his lungs clenching and aching with the effort of it. The panic attack had already begun, and he could tell from the roar of buzzing static in his mind, and the way that his vision darkened at the edges. He needed Roxie, or Trevor, or any of his children. He needed Trygve. Where was his nephew, and what the fuck was happening to him? With pained gasps leaving him, the bobcat managed to shout, risking passing out entirely as he spent more precious breath on shouting, "Natyli! Roxie! Anyone! Trygve needs... Ry needs help..." His voice grew smaller at the end, a harsh and shaky intake of breath leaving him as he stared down at the birthday present he had given Ry. His mind raced with a million possibilities of what could've happened, making the entire situation even worse.
☆ ☆ ☆ gimme, gimme some of that vampire money, come on!
— Reggan
— Reggan