[Center][Img] https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019995bd-21ac-72e9-8dde-ea32c3df7e78.webp[/img] [h1][Color=#00FFFF]Mikhail Xudriess[/color][/h1] [/Center] It all went to shit so fast Mikhail looked deep into his mug of ale, entranced by his own reflection. He wore a strained expression on his face, hidden behind his usual blue shades. The image of Jane disappearing replaying in his eyes, he should’ve known better than to leave her alone. Izzy didn’t fare much better either and Pam was taking it hard in her own way. Mikhail felt inclined to comfort her but showing sympathy to a girl as aggressive as she was at this time wasn’t the best thing to do. She likely would’ve yelled at him or punched the elf in the face. The best thing he could do for her was get them back. It hadn’t been long since he’s been riding with this new bunch of folks but it all seemed to be falling apart. The captain was ill, and the other half of the crew's whereabouts are unknown. He felt a bit of responsibility, having said he’d watch over them but at this rate. There wouldn’t be much crew to look after. Mikhail glanced at Jane's clown crew, a look of despair on their face with their captain missing. There was something about genuinely sad clowns that really made alcohol taste bad. The elf would honk one of their noses in a playful manner, one akin to that of an older sibling. [Color=#00FFFF]“She’s in jail, not dead. I bet she is giving Doc a hard time as we speak. You’ll see her again.”[/color] He smirked. Mikhail didn’t know Jane long but she was pleasant to be around. She wasn’t all that serious of a person and animated who made light of most situations. Her presence right now was greatly missed. To be honest, Mikhail wasn’t too worried about how she’s holding up. Having faith that the girl was keeping her spirits high. Izzy was where his concern was at, the girl was tough as nails but also wore her heart on her sleeve. No doubt she was likely taking accountability for it all. Mikhail would take another swig of alcohol, the taste being non-existent damn near. He’d hone in on the ramblings of the tavern, his ears wiggling as he picked up on different conversations rambling. Some people spoke about women, others booze. He found it a bit difficult to cipher through the bullshit. But thanks to the loud drunkard, an in was provided. [Color=#00FFFF]“Ya heard that bun-bun?”[/color] His gaze didn’t leave his mug as he called for his comrade. She obviously heard that, with those huge fluffy ears. Pamela was surely formulating something in her head.