Taking the Micky

The coat itself was more like a dress than anything else, it was a long-sleeve silk jacket that had many buttons decorating it, along with those weird french white frills that hung loosely around the end of its sleeve and neck.

The coat seemed to have multiple layers all sewed into one, the length itself going down to the top of his knees. It looked as if it was supposed to be worn without all the buttons fixed, but Michael was rather cold at this point so he didn't really care about whether or not it was fashionable.

Other than it standing it due to its tangerine and maroon colouring, the flower patterns across it would make Michael stand out in any crowd back on earth... Though, whether or not this is true in this world had yet to be seen... Other than the rough-looking brigadiers the thieves wore, school uniforms the student wore, and reserved robes the teachers wore, he'd not seen much concerning actual clothing.

With that all said and done, Michael pulled the corpses into the woods so they wouldn't immediately be noticed by anyone travelling the roads, afterwards hopping onto the coachman's seat where the two horses were still waiting for orders to move.

He didn't have a good impression of horses due to the last one he encountered throwing him off of its back. He was a magnanimous person however, willing to let bygones be bygones if these two did what he wanted...

He picks up the weird stick-whip the coachman had been using before he'd 'gotten lost in the woods' and gives the horses a light *Thwap!* with it, causing them to start moving faster than he intended... Not seeing a point to dissuading them though, he just sits back and holsters the knife he'd been tightly clutching the entire time. Once the runes fade again, exhaustion quickly overtakes Michael, causing him to blackout as the horses continue pulling the carriage down the road.

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"Hey?"

...

"Hey?!"

...

"HEY!"

Michael's eyes shoot awake as his hand reflexively grabs the handle of his holstered dagger. He glances around with sharp, predatory eyes as the Gandalfr runes activate, but stops when he spots the concerned face of the man slowly walking beside the carriage...

"Hey? You alright kid?" he asks again, "I've been trying to wake you up since you arrived in our village..." he states, causing Michael's eyes to widen at the fact he'd fallen asleep.

The man himself had a taller, firm build, one suiting someone who worked manual labour all day... Judging by his tanned skin, loose clothing, and dirty, calloused hands, he was a farmer. He had thick ginger facial hair, as if he was trying to make up for the slow loss of the hair atop of his head... His hairstyle looking as if he had a thin red doughnut as a hat.

Michael shakes his head and lets go of the dagger, shuddering as his suppressed emotions were unleashed like a floodgate had been lifted. Fortunately, while the runes didn't seem to be able to condition his mind, the memories didn't seem as raw as they did prior to him falling asleep.

He looks to the horses who were still walking along, though, they seemed quite tired... Considering that they'd probably walked throughout the entire night, he couldn't blame them. He pulls on their rein slightly and allows them to slowly crawl to a halt, Michael glancing over at the concerned farmer. "Sorry... Last night was... Tiring." he admits with a regretful look in his eyes.

The farmer slowly nods, seeming to understand that Michael hadn't had it easy recently. He pats himself on his chest while flashing a smile, that, while it was somewhat disconcerting due to his poor dental hygiene, didn't deter his good intention in the slightest. "I'm Ronald, something as the guy to talk to around here. This is Redfield if you didn't know, not much to look at but, it's still home." he smiles.

Michael looks around as the man speaks, finding himself in the middle of a small, yet charming village with many luscious fields surrounding them. The road he was currently on seemed to be in the centre of the village, a few people watching Ronald speak to him. Michael wasn't sure what crops they were growing, but it certainly didn't match its name. "Redfield... Was it named after you?" Michael asks, causing Ronald to burst out into laughter.

"Hahahahaha! I wish! No, I'm not sure when it started, but I think the name stuck because of our rooftops." he says, gesturing around at them.

Indeed, just as he said, the many wooden houses had ceramic tiles that ranged in colour from bright red to dull pink. It looked a bit peculiar due to how rickety and ill-insulated some of the houses looked, but it was charming in its own way.

"So, what's your name? And how'd you end up riding through here passed out?" Ronald asks, curious.

"My name's Mi-..." he pauses, unsure whether or not he should be using his actual name now that he was a criminal. He didn't know how the authorities searched for criminals, so it would probably be best to choose a nickname for now?... "Mi-...Mick..." Michael sighs and shakes his head at the stupid name, he'd rather get caught and die than think of Micky Mouse whenever someone called his name, "Mike, sorry... My head's a bit fuzzy, long night."

Ronald nods, "You don't have to answer me, but, it'd put me at ease to know what you might be bringin' here." he says, not allowing 'Mike' to skirt around the subject.

Michael lets out a sigh while putting together a believable story in his head, "My father is a merchant, this was my first time doing a job without him... I had some bodyguards but, we were attacked by thieves... I was forced to leave my guards behind as they fought them off... You'd probably find some bodies if you looked..." he mutters in a solemn tone, the shellshock of brutally taking a life making his acting far more believable than one would expect.