01-13-2021, 02:29 AM
"Well, we certainly don't go snapping at people who are just trying to show us some concern. You know, for fun." Michael's words were sharp as he approached, mismatched blue gaze narrowed as he settled himself beside Eulia. Despite her not being so much of a little one anymore, the dealer still didn't appreciate Cory's tone when responding to his sweet niece. It was clear that she was just trying to show some genuine concern, and yet Cory had decided to be an asshole about it. Michael was one of the few people who already knew Corrupttimelines at this point – having been at the other male's joining – but he hadn't exactly picked up on douchebag vibes, then. Maybe he just hadn't been perceptive enough to see it, or maybe the wyvern had just been hiding his more prickly side when he had first joined. Either way, The Typhoon tended to be a fairly tightknit group, and the dealer knew that. If Cory wanted to start picking fights or snarking at people – especially those as sweet and caring as Eulia – then he was certainly going to get some sharpness in response. Michael wasn't afraid to be the one to dole out that sharpness, despite the massive size difference between the two of them.
The sight of the bottles didn't exactly thrill the bobcat, either. He knew what it was like to have a drinking problem – had struggled with one for the majority of his life, in fact. He had only managed to "shake" it once he had gotten pregnant, and that was only because he was unwilling to risk the health of his children just for a drink. Once he had given birth to his wonderful pups, however, he hadn't had much of a desire to go back to the stuff. At that point he had been so busy with marriage, children, and his rank that the thought of getting even a little drunk tended to make him nauseous. Nowadays, he only had the occasional drink for celebration, or if he was hanging around with other people. He was glad to have kicked the habit, and he was fairly sure that Roxanne had been glad for it too, considering it meant he was no longer dragging her to the tavern. Now, to see someone else struggling with a similar problem... it filled Michael with a sense of unease. He wanted to help out, but he truthfully wasn't sure how. It wasn't as if he could just tell Cory to go off and get pregnant, but perhaps there were other things that the wyvern could do, in order to occupy himself.
Taking a deep breath inward – in order to settle both his fur and his mood – Michael then muttered, head tilting to one side, "As for what we do actually do in order to keep ourselves occupied... well, it really depends on who you are. Some like swimming, some people like going out sailing on our boats... some people enjoy gambling out in the tavern. Personally, I like playing little games with other crewmates, like cards. Or spending time with my pets. That's only when I'm not doing some kind of work, though." In the back of his mind, Michael wondered if Cory had chosen a proper division yet. If he did, then maybe he could be assigned some tasks to do in order to help out The Typhoon as a whole. It wasn't exactly the peak idea of fun, but at least it would probably keep the other's claws occupied, and away from a bottle. Or maybe Michael could just ask Roxanne to assign the other some tasks, given her power within the group nowadays. Although, something told the bobcat that she wouldn't be too fond of that plan, considering it would involve taking time out of her already busy day to just assign tasks to one crewmate in particular.
The sight of the bottles didn't exactly thrill the bobcat, either. He knew what it was like to have a drinking problem – had struggled with one for the majority of his life, in fact. He had only managed to "shake" it once he had gotten pregnant, and that was only because he was unwilling to risk the health of his children just for a drink. Once he had given birth to his wonderful pups, however, he hadn't had much of a desire to go back to the stuff. At that point he had been so busy with marriage, children, and his rank that the thought of getting even a little drunk tended to make him nauseous. Nowadays, he only had the occasional drink for celebration, or if he was hanging around with other people. He was glad to have kicked the habit, and he was fairly sure that Roxanne had been glad for it too, considering it meant he was no longer dragging her to the tavern. Now, to see someone else struggling with a similar problem... it filled Michael with a sense of unease. He wanted to help out, but he truthfully wasn't sure how. It wasn't as if he could just tell Cory to go off and get pregnant, but perhaps there were other things that the wyvern could do, in order to occupy himself.
Taking a deep breath inward – in order to settle both his fur and his mood – Michael then muttered, head tilting to one side, "As for what we do actually do in order to keep ourselves occupied... well, it really depends on who you are. Some like swimming, some people like going out sailing on our boats... some people enjoy gambling out in the tavern. Personally, I like playing little games with other crewmates, like cards. Or spending time with my pets. That's only when I'm not doing some kind of work, though." In the back of his mind, Michael wondered if Cory had chosen a proper division yet. If he did, then maybe he could be assigned some tasks to do in order to help out The Typhoon as a whole. It wasn't exactly the peak idea of fun, but at least it would probably keep the other's claws occupied, and away from a bottle. Or maybe Michael could just ask Roxanne to assign the other some tasks, given her power within the group nowadays. Although, something told the bobcat that she wouldn't be too fond of that plan, considering it would involve taking time out of her already busy day to just assign tasks to one crewmate in particular.
— Reggan