01-17-2021, 12:45 AM
What the hell was with people lately? Michael knew full well that he couldn't say too much, considering he had killed and drained a Coalition trespasser following the raid. However, that didn't mean he was a big fan of how things were going. He had thought that the violence would be toned down with the Coalition gone, not go up. In this case especially, he found himself doubting Cory's sanity, and whether the wyvern was even safe to have within The Typhoon. Some would argue that Roxie wasn't safe to have around either, thanks to his cannibalistic nature, but at least his sister seemed to have a stable head on her shoulders – somewhat, anyways. Cory, by contrast, was a drunken newcomer and maniac who now was evidently prone to random violence, a combination of things that immediately set the dealer on edge. Michael's steps were short as he made his way over to where Cory and the dead rogue were, drawn over by the unpleasant scent of a decaying corpse on the air. His nose wrinkled as he grew closer, unnerved by the sight of Cory's little smirk. The body wasn't even good for drinking from, considering what a mess the wyvern had made.
After a moment of standing there silently, Michael cleared his throat to alert the other to his presence, a frown on the bobcat's muzzle. He muttered softly, eying the rogue's corpse as he spoke, "Hey, Cory... so. What exactly was the purpose of this?" He gave the body a little jab as he said that, before withdrawing his paw and shaking a bit of blood off of it. He then grumbled, his bob of a tail twitching behind him, "Maybe we should've just let Rift take all your booze away. I hope that you don't make a habit of this..." Perhaps someone else would've been frightened at the prospect of making Cory angry, since it was obvious it didn't take much for the other to get violent. However, the dealer knew that if Cory even tried doing anything to him, he would have the whole of The Typhoon on his ass, ready to maul him right back.
After a moment of standing there silently, Michael cleared his throat to alert the other to his presence, a frown on the bobcat's muzzle. He muttered softly, eying the rogue's corpse as he spoke, "Hey, Cory... so. What exactly was the purpose of this?" He gave the body a little jab as he said that, before withdrawing his paw and shaking a bit of blood off of it. He then grumbled, his bob of a tail twitching behind him, "Maybe we should've just let Rift take all your booze away. I hope that you don't make a habit of this..." Perhaps someone else would've been frightened at the prospect of making Cory angry, since it was obvious it didn't take much for the other to get violent. However, the dealer knew that if Cory even tried doing anything to him, he would have the whole of The Typhoon on his ass, ready to maul him right back.
— Reggan