Randomly finding yourself in a new place isn't so uncommon, in Deerington-slash-Trench. Really, finding himself in a rather comfortable chair already makes this one of the easier experiences Michael's had in these places? He leans back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, and glances down at his nametag, then at the list of questions in his hand.]
"What do you think makes leaves change color?" Isn't that just a scientific fact? Are we here to give each other pop quizzes?
[He hasn't, of course, noticed his profile. Not like he's looking at himself through his own omni somehow, and he isn't peering at anyone else with it either. But his profile is...well. It's slightly embarrassing? It's certainly misleading, in the fact that it exists at all! There's reasons he didn't put together a dating profile in the last city, you know!]
(( profile here! ))
deerlyBeloved: devilmaycare
flaming hot silver fox!
( michael | 13.7 billion | ? | no )
ii. lonely hearts club (a)
[Naturally, Michael ventures out into the snowstorm as soon as he hears voices out there!
He doesn't tell anyone he's going. Why bother? Snow can't really hurt him, and if any beasts are out here, he can always just hop on his Omen - or even shed his suit - and fly home. No biggie!
The demon trudges through the blizzard, alight in a blaze of bright blue flame. The snow immediately around his feet is melted, though he's just leaving a long stretch of thick ice hidden in the snow behind him as it freezes over. He's holding an arm up to shield his face. The corona of his heat won't reach far enough to give him much more visibility out here. Navigating by sound is tricky. The howling winds blend together with the faint wailing in the air, and it all echoes around so as to be meaningless.
But even if he can't see well, he himself is visible from a long way off by virtue of all the light he's putting off. People can pretty easily find their way to him. He brightens when he sees shapes approaching.]
Hey! [He flares up a little as he waves.] You lost?
iii. lonely hearts club (b)
[Nothing really happened out in the snow.
Michael's always been fairly vocal about how disgusting he finds human romance. Usually he's a little more restrained than this; he's never spent any other Valentine's Days snarling at couples practicing PDA in the streets. But it's not...necessarily super weird for him.
The part where he's started going after people who so much as hold hands in his presence is definitely unusual, though. There's no visible signs of corruption on his face; no horns or strange eyes or anything like that. But he's obviously agitated and in a very strange mood. Even his friends among Sleeperkind - and he's got a fair amount of those, after so long - aren't safe. He launches in on any of them who approach almost right away, jabbing a finger in their direction.]
Michael | the good place (darkblood)
Randomly finding yourself in a new place isn't so uncommon, in Deerington-slash-Trench. Really, finding himself in a rather comfortable chair already makes this one of the easier experiences Michael's had in these places? He leans back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, and glances down at his nametag, then at the list of questions in his hand.]
"What do you think makes leaves change color?" Isn't that just a scientific fact? Are we here to give each other pop quizzes?
[He hasn't, of course, noticed his profile. Not like he's looking at himself through his own omni somehow, and he isn't peering at anyone else with it either. But his profile is...well. It's slightly embarrassing? It's certainly misleading, in the fact that it exists at all! There's reasons he didn't put together a dating profile in the last city, you know!]
(( profile here! ))
flaming hot silver fox!
( michael | 13.7 billion | ? | no )
ii. lonely hearts club (a)
He doesn't tell anyone he's going. Why bother? Snow can't really hurt him, and if any beasts are out here, he can always just hop on his Omen - or even shed his suit - and fly home. No biggie!
The demon trudges through the blizzard, alight in a blaze of bright blue flame. The snow immediately around his feet is melted, though he's just leaving a long stretch of thick ice hidden in the snow behind him as it freezes over. He's holding an arm up to shield his face. The corona of his heat won't reach far enough to give him much more visibility out here. Navigating by sound is tricky. The howling winds blend together with the faint wailing in the air, and it all echoes around so as to be meaningless.
But even if he can't see well, he himself is visible from a long way off by virtue of all the light he's putting off. People can pretty easily find their way to him. He brightens when he sees shapes approaching.]
Hey! [He flares up a little as he waves.] You lost?
iii. lonely hearts club (b)
Michael's always been fairly vocal about how disgusting he finds human romance. Usually he's a little more restrained than this; he's never spent any other Valentine's Days snarling at couples practicing PDA in the streets. But it's not...necessarily super weird for him.
The part where he's started going after people who so much as hold hands in his presence is definitely unusual, though. There's no visible signs of corruption on his face; no horns or strange eyes or anything like that. But he's obviously agitated and in a very strange mood. Even his friends among Sleeperkind - and he's got a fair amount of those, after so long - aren't safe. He launches in on any of them who approach almost right away, jabbing a finger in their direction.]
And don't you start with me!
[SHOW HIM FRIENDSHIP AND DIE]