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Michael Connor

A close-combat trainer for the WCPD and related organisations.

0 · 963 views · located in Wing City

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Script, as played by Disdain

Description

Image
Image ©fogke of deviantart


Name: Michael Connor
Age: 23
Race: Human
Significant Relations: -

Height: 5’ 8”
Weight: 143 lbs
Physical Description: Michael is a handsome young man, smooth skinned and soft featured. His appearance is very slightly feminine, but largely due to his slightly-longer-than-normal hair, his features being more masculine than not. His build is slim but solid – working out at the gym has given him noticeable muscle, but not to an overly dramatic degree.

Personality: A bright and cheerful person, Michael makes friends easily and seldom ends up in arguments or conflicts. Very light hearted about his profession, Michael can be somewhat annoyingly good-humoured about repeatedly delivering a beating to his ‘students’, which has annoyed many a self-confident macho policeman in the past. Having your ass handed to you by an effeminate and short young man is ever-so-slightly emasculating. That said, Michael is defensive and protective over those close to him, but quite susceptible to insults himself. He’ll rise to a verbal or physical battle for those around him, but is sensitive to personal affront.

Skills and Talents:
  • Obviously, his occupation demands that he have a great aptitude for hand-to-hand combat and fitness training.
  • Capable with firearms as well, though by no small degree less so than his skill in close combat.
  • On a slightly unrelated note, Michael is a talented artist, particularly in black-and-white with sketching.
  • Adept at finding ways to turn everyday objects and furniture into weapons in dire circumstances.

Equipment:
  • 9mm standard issue pistol.
  • General accoutrements.

So begins...

Michael Connor's Story

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#, as written by Script
The waitress disappeared off, and Michael gave Iante a conspiratorial glance. "I don't know about you, but if she brings me a 'sample' of the wine I'm going to be so awkwarded out. What exactly are you supposed to do apart from sip it and nod wisely?"

Michael shook his head, "Maybe this is too fancy a place. Ah well. At least they have decent food, rather than that ... tiny portions, bad tasting posh food that some places have. I'm liking the sound of their steaks."

Grinning, the younger man returned his attention to Iante, "But food aside, how's your day been? Anything exciting happen? You'll be happy to hear I have yet to encounter creepy-thief again."

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#, as written by Script
Michael Connor laughed lightly. "True enough." he said, grinning, "But hey. You never know, you might have had an ... interesting corpse? I don't even know."

The younger man shook his head. "Anyway... well. Today I got punched in the jaw by an overenthusiastic guy who was supposed to be punching a punching bag." Michael rubbed a bruise on his chin, "Spent a good half an hour with a medic guy making sure it wasn't fractured. He was a pretty big guy... six foot five or something, built like a tank."

He shook his head. "All in a day's work, I guess. I wouldn't want to be his partner in a fight, or his opponent. Anything that guy hits is going down."

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Michael grinned. "I'll make sure to do that next time. Might have to invite the guy back, just for an excuse..." he murmured.

A few moments later the waitress returned with a bottle of wine (that she thankfully didn't expect them to test) and placed it on the table, before glancing between them. "Are you ready to place your order?" she asked.

Michael nodded, "Right, I'll have the ... Bife de Chorizo? Is that how you pronounce it? The sirloin steak, anyway, with the garlic and .. stuff marinade. Good grief, I'm really not posh enough for this place."

The waitress chuckled at this and penned down the order, before looking to Iante, "And you sir?"

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"I'm quite certain that we more than make up for it ourselves, sir." the waitress replied, raising an eyebrow, "Your food will be with you shortly."

The woman swept away, and Michael grinned, "Let Tommy hit me? And give him the satisfaction? Nah, more fun to let him see some other guy got the best of me, and I got the best of him." the younger man chuckled, "Of course, I could always just drop by without having been punched, but where's the fun in that?"

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"Awful maybe, but true." Michael grinned, "I ought to train you up to hand it to Tommy, take him totally by surprise."

Michael allowed several moments to pass.

"Just kidding! You needn't panic. I'm not about to introduce a training regime." he snickered, taking a sip of wine.

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Michael Connor smiled and chuckled, "Your point, as ever, is worthy of note. Amongst other things." he said, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair.

"I'm sure he wouldn't murder you. He knows I'd kick his arse too hard if he tried." Michael grinned,

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"Oh really?" Michael snickered, "I can imagine that'll be a fun bubble to burst." he murmured ponderously, grinning. "How long do you plan to drag that out for, for funzies?"

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"I'm liking the sound of the second plan, but that could be because I'm subconsciously biased towards the idea that means I get to snog you." Michael mused, winking.

"Not that I'm at all overt, you know." he added after a few moments.

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It was at that moment that the door to the room received a polite knock, before the handle was pushed down and the door opened. A head of brown curls popped around the corner, and Michael smiled to the room. "Hello again, fella's." he said cheerfully, well aware that most of the people in the room probably held him in less than a positive light after the taxing training he had put them through.

Michael slipped inside, waving a file in his hand, "Just delivering the assessments on you all to Agent Retna there." he continued, sidling up to the desk, sparing Iante no more of a look than any of the others (though on close inspection a similarly scheming grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth) and holding the report out. "Here, just need you to sign the slip to confirm that you're satisfied. Might want to flick through it, to check that you are, too."

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"Oh?" Michael grinned, "Well, I can't say he was enthusiastic, but all things considered, I'm pretty certain it was ... a beneficial experience for him. Not to sound patronising, of course."

The trainer glanced over to Iante, exchanging a split second gleefully smug look with him, before turning back to Romanae. "The group as a whole were refreshingly pleasant. No crusty old buggers, as I believe I said at the time."

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"I totally didn't mean it that way." Michael lied, folding his arms. "I probably got caught up in a book, or something, and didn't check the clock before going to sleep. Jumping to conclusions, there!"

He glanced back to Romanae's reading of the report, examining how much more she had to glance over, and pondering at what point he should drop the metaphorical bomb, or at what point Iante might decide to. It was really rather immature, this whole thing, but hey. He had never claimed to be mature.

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"I think it was the night before..." Michael mused, "The day I almost got handcuffed to a statue -- that was what brought it up." he noted. The younger man smirked at Tommy's squawk, but didn't pay him any mind.

"I still haven't encountered that thief again, which is good, by the way. Your musings about him being a weird stalker were obviously wrong. I hope."

Only then did Michael glance over to Tommy, with a simple "Hm?"

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"Don't say that. That just makes it creepy all over again." Michael mock frowned, drumming his fingers on his leg. "It's sort of worrying that he could walk into my house far easier than he walked into the museum and got out with a painting."

Michael shuddered, before glancing back to Tommy, "Oh, that's not all that interesting. Nothing much happened, that you'd find exciting." Which was the truth. Tommy probably wouldn't find it all that 'exciting'...

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"I probably don't want to know." Michael commented, raising an eyebrow. "But we'll see, you might have to wait for the third date, all proper-like."

The younger man snickered, folding his arms. "Ah, dear me. Oh, and let's backtrack -- sewing club? Really? You have no imagination, Davids."

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"I'm free all day, actually." Michael said with a grin, taking the slip with a nod of thanks, "Once I've dropped this off we're free to while away the hours... however."

He chuckled, "Meet you at the door in five?"

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Michael Connor laughed loudly, leaning on the door frame on the edge of leaving, "Don't be jealous, Tommy. We're both good looking, but there are plenty of good looking fish in the sea."

The younger man winked to the agent, before disappearing out the door.

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Wing City Shopping Centre was always a busy place. A large building complex, it was filled with all manner of shops, and formed the hub of commerce for the populace of the city. Located in the Plaza, the area around outside it was also dotted with shops, as well as cafes and bars.

It was in the outside seating area of one of these cafes that Michael now sat with Iante, talking over a cup of coffee. Despite the season, today was (relatively) warm, and windless, and so the pair were braving the mild chill for the benefit of the sunshine, and the pleasant view of the sparkling fountain in the centre of the square.

The flow of shoppers was a few feet from the tables, but close enough that the couple could do a little bit of people watching if they so desired. At present, however, Michael was regaling Iante with a tale of his colleagues.

"So I went in for a flip - you know like I did with Tommy?" he began, "And I swear she must've lost it or something, because the next thing I know I'm waking up on the mat with a concerned group of SOD agents standing over me like sympathy vultures. After that, I told 'em they could do their own damn training. I don't work with people that might accidentally electrocute me when they get mad."

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"Technically I ought to be going to the med bay, you know. Rather than the autopsy lab. But I suppose I might get lost on the way, and well, a medic's a medic, right?" Michael grinned and winked to Iante, and was opening his mouth to speak again, when a call drew his attention ...

"Uh oh..."

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"This is the friend I mentioned..." Michael murmured as Sabrina approached, smirking. "Hey, Sabrina." he said as she introduced herself to Iante.

"I was going to tell you. But we haven't met up this week, and I only met Iante a few days ago." he explained, suppressing amusement, "And try not to scare him away, please, I'm quite fond of him."

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"And that's Sabrina in a nutshell," Michael said wryly, looking to Iante, "Don't be put off. Once she's finished being nosey, insufferable and smothering she's quite nice. We've known each other since we were eleven or twelve."

The younger man raised an eyebrow and pointedly picked his coffee up and put it back on his side of the table. "She won't bully you too much. She saves that for me."