entrancelogs

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Who: Michael (Michael Brodric) and you
Where: The theater, his office, outside his home, the diner, the asylum, and maybe some other places
When: The duration of the event October 24-28
Rating: PG, will update if necessary
Summary: Michael's new background, and patient list can be found here, plotting post, and the town registry for those that need it. This is an open post for the event.

Option One: Office Hours

[Michael's office is attached to his home, a newly added on section to the house, and after knocking on the door, you'll enter to find one a single room. It's not overly decorated, and the furnishings are simple, and unobtrusive; which allows him to focus, and keep the patient's focus on themselves. His licenses are hung in frames on the wall, and he'll greet you at the door, lead you inside, and gesture towards the couch. If you are new, or a recurring patient, it won't matter. He'll greet you the same.

Then you'll talk.]

Option Two: Weekly Group Meetings

[Once a week, Michael holds a group therapy session at Regan Run's theater. It's a simple setup, much like his office, and the open space lets everyone feel more at ease and less confined. If you come to his group session, anyone at the meeting is allowed to talk, and can share their opinions with the other people in the room.]

[ooc: For this one, it's a bit looser in form, and any comments that are posted can be responded to by any one else that would be at that meeting. Michael will respond to them all, and try to make sure none of the group harrass or make the other members uncomfortable. Basically, this one will be an anyone can jump in and comment, kind of thread.]

Option Three: Day by Day

Day One:
[Michael's life was easy, simple, and he had everything functioning in a well, organized fashion. There's just one problem. His brother. They aren't on bad terms, not necessarily fighting or not getting along, but Michael can't wrap his head around the fact that someone with so much talent, had squandered it all.

It upsets him, and his once typical, and happy, life has met with one kink after another.

If you stumble across Michael today, he may be just coming out of his home, and walking towards his car, or getting out of the car and going into the diner. And his demeanor is that of someone less than pleased, though he'll still be polite.]

Day Two - Three:
[He's feeling better now, strangely and out of the blue, but he welcomes it with a sigh of relief. Michael is starting to think that maybe everything is going to work out, that Gabriel will find a way to be happy, and maybe someday, they'll both be living the lives that Michael hopes for them.

He usually volunteers at the asylum, and he can be going in or coming out when you see him. If you ask, he'll explain why he helps here. Why it's important to him.]

Day Three - Four:
[Michael was walking, just about to reach his house when he felt it. He couldn't explain it if he tried, what it felt like, or even what time it was when it happened, only that he was suddenly two people.

He remembered two separate lives, and each were so bright and vivid that he couldn't tell them apart. Was he Michael Brodric, therapist and resident of Storybrooke, or was he the Archangel Michael. He knew which one sounded less believable, but the memories flashing in front of his eyes were entirely too bold to just brush aside as some sort of mental break.

Michael leans forward and rests his palms on the fence in front of his house, trying to regain control of himself. He needed to find his brother. He needed to find anyone.]

[ooc: I've posted generic starter comments, so that I can keep track of everything. If anyone wants a starter for something specific, or if they have one in mind, let me know.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wait.

[Michael reaches out, placing a hand on her shoulder.]

You don't have to leave, just because I do not have a shirt on.

[He sighed a little, not used to making women uncomfortable, just by showing some skin.]

I can put something on, if you'd like?

[She doesn't flinch when his hand moves to her shoulder, but Abigail is quiet for a moment.]

But I should have thought- [It's the beginning of an apology and she stops because really, Abigail didn't have anything to apologise for- she didn't know what state he was in before he answered the door.]

Maybe. Yeah. You should. [Abigail nods, meeting his gaze.] You'll get cold otherwise.

[Michael smiles, nodding at her as he drops his hand and turns away.]

Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a moment.

[He takes the stairs two at a time, grabbing a shirt out of a drawer, and slipping it on. Michael's voice cuts through the silence as he comes into the living room.]

Would you like something to drink, or just to talk.

Or both.

[When he returns he would find her sitting down on the couch, jacket removed and with her hands in her lap. She's going to make an effort to be comfortable and make the most of Michael's hospitality.]

Both, please. Something strong if you have it.

[She tries for a smile, a warmer one this time.]

You look well by the way.

As do you. As you always do.

[He smiles in return, then makes a hasty retreat to his kitchen for something to give her to drink. Michael knows there isn't much, a bottle hidden in the back of the cabinet, kept out of view from his brother. He sighs quietly at that thought, then pulls it out to pour it into two glasses.]

It is rum. I used it when I tried my hand at cooking.

[Michael returns, handing her the glass, then sitting beside her on the couch.]

Failed at it, actually. [A shrug that shows he's accepted his inability to cook, then he pauses, giving her the opportunity to talk to him.]

Thanks.

[She ducks her head at his words, feeling a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. Abigail doesn't think she looks well, given the occasional sleepless night that she has. Part of being a mother to a boisterous two year old; Abigail adored Emily with all her heart but she liked to wake her mother up sometimes.

Then there was the bad dreams. Nightmares would be a more accurate description. She was still scarred, emotionally and physically, from her daughter's father and healing from that was taking longer than she liked.
Abigail brightens when she sees Michael return with a drink, glad for the disruption from her negative thoughts.]

I like rum. [She accepts the glass with a nod.] Never been that adventurous with cooking myself.

[His admission makes her laugh lightly and she doesn't feel bad about it. Then her expression sobers again.] Emily is doing well, but I didn't come here to talk about her.

[She takes a sip from her glass, savouring the taste of the rum.] Do you ever get that feeling like you're stuck in a rut? I think that's how I feel. I came here to escape from my past, to make things work for Emily and I, to give her the life that she deserves. But while she has been flourishing, I've been stagnant. Uninspired. Existing instead of living.

Does that make me selfish? Wanting something for myself? I should be thinking about my daughter.

[He takes a single sip of his drink, then sits it on the table in front him. Michael isn't too fond of drinking, even if he'd imbibe if the situation called for it, though. He crosses his arms over his chest, and leans back against the soft cushion.

Michael knows what it feels like to be in a rut, the same with thinking that wanting for yourself made you selfish, but he knows that's not true.]

You do think about your daughter, every day. But, that doesn't mean that you shouldn't do anything for yourself.

Abigail. If you aren't happy, she'll pick up on that, and it'll make her unhappy as well.

[He leans in towards her, completely serious, and he doesn't touch her, but he wants her to look at him.]

There is nothing wrong with how you feel. You should find something that makes you happy, something to inspire you.

[The occasional drink was enough for her, never feeling the need to over indulge herself. She knew firsthand what alcohol could do to a person.

Abigail listens carefully to him as he speaks, allowing herself a few drinks before she places the glass down on the table.]

Well, she is a smart little thing. Perceptive. [She sighs.] I don't want her to be unhapppy. Ever.

[After a few moments she does look at Michael, noting how serious his expression was. He was rather good at being intense but maybe she needed that now.]

Easier than it sounds. I don't know where to look or start; this town is only so big and everyone seems to be settled in their own lives, they have a part to play. But I can't let my daughter down or myself either. I understand that.

[A brief smile.]

Maybe if I begin with something small, then see where it goes from there.

It is a lot. Change is never easy, and I won't sit here and tell you that finding something to make you happy is a snap of your fingers away.

It takes time, but if you go out and look for it, then you'll have that to tide you over.

[Michael liked his job, his house, the town. He loved his brother, even with all the trouble he gave him. But, he still hadn't found that one thing, that purpose in life, that made all the bad stuff not so bad anymore.

Maybe it was love, a child, a certain job, or a combination of any of the aforementioned. He wasn't sure, but he was out there trying to find it, and he was okay with that.]

I can help, Abigail. Whatever you need, I'll be there.

I will look for it.

[A promise that she intends to keep, no matter how long it would take her. She'd only be letting herself, her daughter and even Michael down if she didn't.]

After everything I have been through over the past few years, I can't allow myself to be defeated or held back. I know it will be a struggle. [She places her hand on his forearm, attempting a smile.]

You've always been there for me. Even before I came to you tonight. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done, Michael. It's a lot.

[He lightens his serious expression, a genuine smile lighting up his face in return for the one she was trying to give him.]

You don't have to thank me. It was the right thing to do.

To help you and your daughter.

[Michael reaches out, laying his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers reassuringly.]

Now, you have a second chance. And I can't help but feel good about my part in that.

[The smile suited him, Abigail thinks.

His words also give her hope, lightening the load that was on her shoulders, even for a moment. Maybe things would get better.]

You should smile more often.

[She is reassured by his gesture, and after a moment, Abigail gives his fingers a light squeeze before taking a firmer grip.]

I'm glad that you've taken some joy in what you've done for me and my daughter. [Her smile brightens to match his own.] I promise to make good on my second chance.

And if I don't? I'll have you to remind me.

[Michael shrugs his shoulders, the movement unconsciously bringing him closer to Abigail.]

You might be the first person to say that to me. Others find my smiles, awkward.

[He laughs a little, shaking his head in mock acceptance.]

I will remind you. For the sake of all involved.

Besides, it is not any trouble to speak with you. I quite enjoy it.

[She can feel his arm brush against hers when he moves closer. Abigail doesn't mind though, if anything, it only makes her shift closer to him in return.]

Well, they don't have a clue.

[Abigail grins at him, bumping her shoulder against his.]

I enjoy talking to you as well, Michael. Wouldn't mind doing more of it if I was being honest.

You could come to my place sometime. For dinner.

[They were a breath apart, situated closer than Michael can remember getting so near. He could see the pink tint of her lips, and the slightly varied shades of color of her hair.]

I wouldn't mind that either. For dinner? You'd want that.

[He wasn't insecure, but couldn't imagine anyone would want to see that much of him, for that length of time. He was, at best, a boring companion. Not talkative, and mostly stoic.]

Abigail.

[Michael's hand moves up to her shoulder, resting there, uncertain.]

[She notices things she never saw before from being this close to him. Things that she could be appreciative of. Abigail nods, keeping her eyes on his.]

I'd want that. Won't be a five course meal but still enjoyable.

[Despite the traits he had, she was fine in his company. They conversed well, and sometimes she liked the quiet. She wasn't exactly over talkative herself and she was a little introverted.]

Yes, Michael?

[She asks quietly, her gaze dropping briefly to his lips then back at his face. Abigail doesn't look uncomfortable.]

[Michael had a penchant for saying other people's names, and it was just to say them, usually holding no real purpose. He'd say their name if he was confused, uncertain, pleased, to fill a silence, or say it instead of saying what he truly wanted to.

In this case, he'd spoken her name because he didn't know how to ask her. Or tell her what he wanted.

But, as was true to his nature, he was the sort of person that just went for it. And hoped it'd turn out for the best later. Leaning forward, he closed the distance between them, kissing her.

He didn't think about their friendship, or history, where this would take them, if it would ruin things or make them better. He just wanted to know what it felt like, even if only once.]

[It had been a long time since Abigail had been kissed. She never allowed anyone to get that close to her, not after the past. Mostly out of fear that she would get hurt again. Which is why she froze at first when he kissed her, unsure about how she should react. This was new and unexplored territory for her. For Michael as well.

She gave herself a moment before relaxing into it and continuing the kiss. Slow and light, nothing too harsh in the beginning. Her hand moved up to rest at the side of his face, fingertips brushing gently over his cheekbone.

Her eyes fall shut as she concentrated on the feel of his mouth against hers, their closeness. They can deal with the aftermath when the kiss finished, she could live with that.]

[He parted his lips a little, and shifted his body slowly to the side. Michael took a position of submissiveness, letting her lean over him to deepen the kiss.

It was more than pleasant, the feel of her lips pressed to his own, but he was still aware enough to know to go slow.

Michael had been there with her, had seen so much, and knew that this wasn't something he could rush; not that he wanted to. He ran a hand gently up and down her arm, letting her decide if and when to increase the intensity.]

[Abigail braced her free hand against the couch while she leaned over him, not quite allowing full body contact just yet. But she does take his parted lips as an invitation to press that little bit harder into the kiss, making a soft sound.

The hand on his cheek moved to cup the back of his head gently and she has to remember how to breathe; his fingers along her arm made her skin goosebump. Why had she denied herself this for so long?

Perhaps that's what fear did to a person. It made them shut down and block everything out.]

[Michael settled back, his body relaxing comfortably against the couch. The hand that wasn't moving up and down her arm, and alternately tracing lazy circles with a finger, was clenched tight.

He flexed that hand, suppressing the urge to pull her in tight against him.

Scaring her was far from the last thing he wanted, even if feeling their bodies pressed together was something he equally wanted.]

[She shouldn't be scared, this was Michael she was with. But since it had been so long, Abigail wasn't sure if she was doing this right.

Her hand slipped down from Michael's head to run her fingers along the nape of his neck, occasionally trailing them through the ends of his hair.

When Abigail felt comfortable enough she moved her body closer to his, bringing the hand on the couch to rest at Michael's waist. She broke the kiss for a moment, needing to catch her breath. Her gaze shifted to his face.]

[The fingers along his neck, coupled with the press of her hand at his waist have his hand shifting slightly to run down her back. He could feel the space between, or lack thereof, and he tipped forward just enough that their chests would touch if she breathed too heavily.

His eyes were closed, and it took him a moment for the fog to clear and to register that she had broken the kiss.

When he did, he opened his eyes to find her looking at him.]

Is.. everything alright?

[She is becoming more comfortable with being this close to him, having his hands over her body. Abigail moved until they were pressed fully against one another, feeling a shiver running down her spine. This was good, better than she expected.]

Everything is fine. I just needed to catch my breath. [A reassuring smile.] I'm fine, I promise.

[To prove that she leaned in to drop a quick kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a while longer. He could probably feel her breath against his mouth and her hand as it slid up and down his arm. She had no qualms about continuing, but slowly. ]

Are you okay?

Yes, of course I am.

[He reached up to brush her hair back, fingers twirling around a strand for a long moment, before tucking it behind her ear.]

I was just uncertain with your pausing, but, since you are fine.

[Michael tilted forward a fraction of a centimeter, pressing their mouths back together. If she were only breaking for air, then that was just fine with him, and as long as it wasn't because she was uncomfortable, then that was even better.]

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