BOUM! \\ RACE DAY , OPEN .

[truce.]

[align=center][div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 7pt; letter-spacing: 1.2px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]    The annual Darboux Race Day was in full swing.

❝ - And here comes Canonero coming up to the starting line. ❞ An older man, aged and wrinkled, stood just outside the track, megaphone in hand as he stood in front of the VIP bar, open for all groups to make use of on this day. ❝ They're all lined up now; we're ready for a start! ❞ He continued enthusiastically, mustache styled elegantly, adorned in the most luxurious of suits. He peeked over to look at the horses, all shifting backwards and forwards, side to side, eager to begin galloping. A woman, stood on the inside of the track, was speaking to the jockeys, words failing to meet anybody else's ears before she nodded towards the commentator. ❝ Okay, we are ready for a start! ❞ He repeated, voice somewhat raised to speak over the music playing in the stands. He turned around, eyes looking towards the race horses before the woman raised a gun into the air.

And then, she fired a blank, and the horses went galloping.

Piers stood in the bar, leaning against the balcony which faced onto the tracks as he kept his gaze on a particular horse; his beautiful Buveur d'Air. Baiard, as he preferred to call the stallion, was his prized racehorse - many people had placed bets on him today, Piers included, and he truly hoped that today Baiard would continue as a winning horse.

❝ And they're off!... And it's Buveur d'Air who takes the lead, followed closely by Dagworth Maestro - ❞ The man began rambling almost inaudibly through the megaphone, excitement overcoming him.

He quirked a brow, briefly looking over his shoulder to look over towards the bookmakers behind a booth nearby, overrun by betters wishing to make a bet for the next race. Turning back to keep an eye on the race, he watched as Baiard lagged behind in second place. He nodded his head slowly, clutching more firmly on his walking stick. This would be an interesting race.

---

Okay so welcome to Saint Louis' annual big race day!! All groups are invited to come and spent the day at the racecourse or stay overnight in the city. Feel free to have them mingling, hanging out in the stands or in the bar, or even going to place bets on a horse !!

[CATALYST]

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It probably went without saying and was true of most people around their age and younger, but Cat had never been to a horse race. They had no idea what to expect other than... some horses were gonna race. What was the proper dress and behavior at an event like that, and did they actually care if they followed that or not?

No. The answer was obviously no.

So Cat showed up as they always were, edgy black jacket and bad attitude equipped. They stopped by the bar briefly, not looking for a drink to get through this event easier, rather looking for a snack as they were fucking hungry. Emerging with a little bag of peanuts, they made their way to the stands to watch the race.

[spoiler=IF YOU DONT KNOW NOW YOU KNOW && INFO && 09/02/19]GENERAL  welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life
⇥ Given name is Scott Mathew Darrow ⇥ Goes only by Catalyst or Cat
⇥ Assigned male at birth ⇥ Agender ⇥ They/Them pronouns only
⇥ Twenty-one ⇥ Born 11/27/17 ⇥ Sagittarius ⇥ Real time aging
⇥ Boss (leader) of the Badlands ⇥ Ex prisoner of the Badlands
⇥ Ex cultist (Mourningstar) ⇥ Ex member of the Young Rogues

RECENT EVENTS  done my time and served my sentence
⇥ 09/02/39 ⇥ Returned from vacation
⇥ 08/23/39 ⇥ Went on vacation with Gavril
⇥ 08/21/39 ⇥ Oversaw their parents' vow renewal
⇥ 08/16/39 ⇥ Witnessed their boyfriend get shot

APPEARANCE  dress me up and watch me die
⇥ Catalyst is 6'2" tall; they possess a lean and muscular body, one that has a variety of old scars adorning it. One of the easiest to notice is one that stretches down their right cheek. While not a scar, one very notable marking on their chest is the "BL" brand. They have two piercings, one in their tongue and the other in the cartilage of their left ear. They typically dress in dark colors (favoring jackets with some sort of writing on the back), and their hair is black. They're not all dark, however, as they have pale blue eyes that peer out from beneath medium-sized eyebrows.

PERSONALITY  if it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine
⇥ Catalyst is ambitious, with the cunning and ruthlessness to reach their goals by any means necessary. They can be brutal when they feel it is needed, however when it's not they won't bother. They tend to be rather aloof and apathetic to most things and people, with some very rare exceptions. Provided those around them don't cross a few specific lines, they're content to leave them be, though they've been known to take an interest in some people, which seldom has a positive end for whoever their interest is in. They can be manipulative, and will often encourage people to make bad decisions. Those that stick by them will be rewarded, but those that do not will be cast out, as they've been outcast for their entire life and have learned to appreciate loyalty wherever they can find it. Even during the most stressful of situations, they usually keep a firm grip on their temper and keep their calm, though when they do snap and lose their temper, it is uncontrollable. They're remarkably observant, often able to deign much from subtle clues in what people say, how they say it and how they act.

RELATIONS  dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight
⇥ Molly Darrow x Austin Darrow ⇥ No biological siblings
⇥ Adopted parent of Molly Valentina Darrow-Lupei (Mo)
⇥ Pansexual/Panromantic ⇥ Very much taken ⇥ One Crush
⇥ Not looking but it happened ⇥ Rarely forms romantic attachment
⇥ Holds most people at arms length and doesn't get close

INTERACTION  i'm taking back the c r o w n
⇥ Hard physically ⇥ Hard mentally ⇥ Doesn't let their guard down
⇥ Is most comfortable with close ranged-weapons ⇥ Dislikes guns
⇥ Brass knuckles ⇥ A variety of knives ⇥ Carries a handgun
⇥ Will kill/capture/maim in certain circumstances
⇥ Will leave things be in others ⇥ Will start & finish fights
⇥ No kill/capture/maim without permission
⇥ Attack in bold #0d0d0d and tag @/Bryne
⇥ Peaceful powerplay allowed but they may react negatively
⇥ Dislikes almost any sort of touch unless they initiate or agree to it
[/spoiler]

[DoI]

[align=center][div style="width: 390px; text-align: justify;"]tinny was one of the few people to have arrived so far, his backpack filled with tons upon tons of books around horses that he could glance through if something were to happen with the horses, a few medical books on humans if the need would arise.. that was just about all he had besides a canteen of water and a bottle of whisky if there happened to be a trade stall set up.

with a quick glance, he spotted cat more towards the bar area, and he briefly debated on whether or not he should stick with them, but his anxiety got the better of him, and he made his way to the boss. “he-hhey!” he greeted brightly, bouncing on his toes in excitement. he hadn’t dressed like most badlanders would be expected to dress, unlike cat. he had put on his nicest jacket (which, in reality, was full of tears and holes), with a red flannel underneath, dirty blue jeans, and those same worn out sneakers that he always wore. at least his hair wasn’t a mess and augustus has agreed to try and help him hide his bruised nose and undereyes with some very old makeup- it wasn’t doing a good job, but it helped. “you didn-.. didn’t dress u-up? isn’t this a f-fff-fa-fancy ev-e-eve-.. thing?”

[ADDY.]

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— addy knew jack shit about horses. that was why initially the redhead had been determined not to go to saint louis, nonetheless to their horse race. that being said, addy was a relatively easy man to persuade. say that there will be a bar and addy will more than likely make his way there. he hated that he had only proven that idea by surely enough showing up to the races - for no reason other than to head straight to the bar. he took a seat at one of the bar stools, ordering a drink. while the bartender went about pouring his drink, addy took his time to glance around at the crowd. there were more people here than he would have expected… guess he could commend this group for that.

looked like a majority of people were dressed like a bunch of a fuckin’ pricks… addy hadn’t gotten the memo - not that he would’ve followed it - so he was one of the few there dressed in jeans and a worn t-shirt. fucking sue him. the bartender slid him his drink and the young man didn’t take long to bring the glass to his lips. he would definitely be there the whole event.

[juliet s.]

[align=center]

[I]I put myself back in the narrative
I stop wasting time on tears     

[B][I]I live another fifty years, it's not enough

  She told her mom she could do it. She could tend to the horses and make them ready to race and tend to them afterwards. There were npcs who helped at the races, but her mom usually oversaw everything. But today? Today it was Juliet. She had never done this without her mom, but she had promised she could do it. So she did, to the best of her abilities. Nervous and anxious as she usually just shadowed her mother or tended to the babies, nothing quite like this. Though with the race starting, she decided to leave a more experienced NPC in charge so she could go on a walk, calm her nerves.

Juliet wore a white, black polka-dotted dress which she begged met the standards of dress code for the event. She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and entered the crowd. There were other groups here. Strangers. Her guard was up enough being anxious, but these unfamiliar faces didn't help. She walked to the bar, recognizing Pier. Finally, a familiar face.

[b]"How is he doing?" She asked curiously. It was her mother who trained these horses after all and she was starting to take over. Of course, she was nervous as to how they performed. There were others around, none of them dressed to how she'd usually see those who attended such an event. It made her feel a bit better about her simple dress choice - but also made her more nervous about it. "Mom had me train him quite a bit recently..."

If anything went wrong with the stallion, it was her fault. She knew that. But at the same time, she'd rather get through bad times now, while she was still very young. Though part of Juliet hoped her mother had taught her well. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked at the drinks at the bar. Her mother said not until she was twenty-one. That's how it had always been, and she usually wasn't one to upset her mother. But there was certainly a part of her who just wanted to enjoy herself.

[color=transparent]thes code

[truce.]

    tw. well, he's off his face with alcohol.

If Silas was truly honest, he was only here for the alcohol. Having already spilled a drink on his very over-the-top suit (he was trying to fit in with the crowd, he claimed, although he was most definitely one to stand out in said crowd), Silas was stood at the bar, amidst an argument with the bartender after he refused him another drink. ❝ You fuckin' gave one to me before I spilled that shit all over m'self! ❞ He exclaimed, arms flying up wildly before finally giving up and stumbling into the crowd, shifty eyes searching people's hands. Oh, a drink. He smiled smugly to himself as he whisked a drink out of somebody's hands, slipping further into the crowd quickly and hoping that his stealth in his drunken state was as good as sober Silas.

He flitted his gaze around, only for eyes to land on several Saint Louis' lounge lizards, all gawking at Silas and his unruly ways. ❝ Oh, fuck you[i]. ❞ He whined, flipping them the bird before sipping the drink as he wobbled away to the stands once he heard the race beginning. ❝ Who the [i]fuck knows wha's goin' on? ❞ He slurred to nobody in particular, flopping down on a seat before blinking, brows raising. ❝ Except yous bling bling high-ballers. ❞ He added as an afterthought, gesturing to a few more people of Saint Louis lazily.

[align=center][div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size: 7px;"][spoiler=tags :: updated 07/20]basics.
♛ silas porter overton // sy, overton, dipshit
♛ male // he/him
♛ twenty five // ages real time // born fifteenth april
♛ leader of bluestem prairie
♛ formerly member of camp apocalypse
♛ formerly right hand man in children of abaddon
♛ established BP - fifth march 2039

appearance.
♛ faceclaim - evan peters
♛ voice claim - evan peters (tw. blood & gore in video)
♛ 5'11ft // under-worked frame // slightly paunchy
♛ dark chocolate eyes and disheveled brunet hair
♛ physical health - 100% // current injuries: none
♛ mental health - 95% // suffers paranoia and delusions of grandeur

personality.
♛ impetuous, spontaneous and hostile
♛ volatile, overemotional // acts rashly
♛ very loud // loves to hear the sound of his own voice
♛ pompous and overly confident // sees himself as number one
♛ assertive and knows exactly how to get what he wants
♛ outspoken and extroverted // stormy personality
♛ playfully chaotic // enjoys having fun whilst tearing the world apart
♛ cunning and slimy // hard to work out what his intentions are
♛ low self-esteem yet hides this through over-confidence
♛ intelligent and caring to those who can see passed his bullish semblance
♛ scarily loyal towards his favorite people
♛ embarrassingly flirtatious // flirts with anything that moves
♛ clownish and sees most serious matters lightheartedly // immature

relationships.
♛ james overton x nadia overton // whereabouts unknown
♛ six siblings // three brothers & three sisters
♛ bisexual biromantic
♛ crushing on anna // on and off relationship with her
♛ has an eight year old son, riley james // known as james
♛ has adopted his niece, scout, after killing ruby
♛ owns two chickens // marilee & zelda
♛ owns four dogs // ghost, fang, bandit and jekyll
♛ owns three horses // tinker, rawhide and tex

interaction.
♛ storage // plot
♛ physically: hard // mentally: hard
♛ very strategic // usually has an ulterior motive
♛ unpredictable - dangerous with a gun & explosives
♛ cares very little about ending lives for his own gain
[/spoiler]

[roman.]

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— roman had never been to the races before, but his family had. cas and livvy had gone with their parents once in an attempt to make friends with the rich families around the area - roman had been left behind to watch over his younger siblings. however, he could remember when they had come back, dressed so nicely, livvy going on and on about what a fun and amazing experience it had been. perhaps that had planted a small seed of curiosity in ro ever since - and now he was getting to explore this place that seemed almost… otherworldly. a city lost in time.

while others hadn’t gotten the memo, he liked to think that he managed to fit right in. granted, it was by no means a suit and tie, it was a dress shirt and nice pants - but it was definitely a step up from most people he saw around him. definitely not as well-dressed as the man whose wallet he carefully plucked out from his pants-pocket. after he had subtly rummaged through it, pocketed a few bucks for himself- “hey,” he got the man’s attention by patting his shoulder. “i think you dropped this.” the man was quick to thank him, and roman merely made his perfect getaway once again. he took his hard-earned cash and made his way towards the booth.

and he ended up trading that “borrowed cash” for paper. a bet. he wasn’t exactly sure if this number was going to win but, through talk of the crowd, it sure seemed like that would be the case. just because there was the majority didn’t mean that they were right - but roman didn’t have much to win or lose on this bet.

he ended up making his way through the crowd, pushing around to get to a familiar face. “here,” he hummed, holding the paper out to none other than frank. of course he would find his way back to him. what, thought that he would go through all that effort just for himself?

of course not. it had to be for someone he cared that much for. frank was definitely making his way up to the top of the list. the man had so many qualities about him that roman couldn't help but adore. saying he would go through all that effort and more just to make frank happy would be an understatement and then some.

“stick around with me, frank, and you’ll be a rich, happy man,” he lightheartedly joked. as they walked, roman couldn't help but have his hand subtly brush against frank’s. god, somebody help the sap.