Michael Dresden actually flinched. For a man who was said to be delicate, precise, and governed in every aspect of his life, being trapped in this hell of a situation was proving so differently that it started infecting his mind, forcing him into doubts over the personal truths he'd always clung to. Back when his father was alive (and consequently, back when Michael's life wasn't so thought out; back when he was actually living as opposed to breathing a routine), there had always been one repeated message. "Never let anything break you, kid. Trust me, there's plenty out there capable, but never let anything break you, because once you're broken, you ain't getting fixed." If he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sift through the garbled memories, he could almost vividly hear his old man's urgent tone, see his aging, troubled face masked by his five o'clock shadow, but that was if he allowed it, which he never did so long as he could help it. However now, disconnected from everything he fought valiantly to keep him safe from himself, there was very little left to his defenses, and the heavy barricade he'd used to shield those plaguing reminders of loss were now a stupid shame. Now... now he was paranoid, over-thinking, nervous, scared, and too confused to know what the fuck to do about any of it.
Try as he might to cover it all up, to remain the calm and collected presence he'd been associated as for some odd ten years now, the mind was an incredibly power thing not to be trifled with. He quickly recovered from the initial hesitation that seized his limbs at the abrupt physical contact, turning on his heels to examine the source with a look that was hopefully pacified rather than edgy. Immediately Michael recognized the man as the ex-military loudmouth - around the rumor mill, not his personal reflection - aboard the ship, much credit due to his immaculate attention to detail. It was his job not to miss things, and up here he found it the smallest ounce of consolation, easing some of the unsettling alienation he felt. With a speculative sweep over the man's physique and a raised eyebrow, Michael returned the gesture and nodded forcefully, withdrawing his hand before the shake became borderline awkward.
"I'd introduce myself, but you apparently already know who I am," he answered with the un-profound twitch of his lips, the small pleasantry not unnoticed before he wiped his expressions clean, breathing a huff through his nose at the man's next random inquiry. Why would he choose to come to Michael? Surely he could've told that he wasn't exactly the most approachable of fellows, especially given his insistence to remain off the grid, unless.... Michael willed himself not to make a reaction, because his business was his business and, well, he didn't owe Thomas much of anything, but his something in his subconscious tugged at him and told him that it was simply none of his concern. It looked like nonchalance and feigned ignorance was in his near future. With a lazy shrug and a flick of his gaze, chocolate eyes now peering innocently at Adair, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked on his heels. "Okay, shoot."
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