TEMPER TEMPER / . OPEN

[GAVIN R.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Gav's never really been a cold weather person. The first time he saw snow was when he was eighteen, after he'd gotten the fuck out of town — Las Vegas was a gorgeous place, filled with memories that were super fucking not gorgeous. So he just left. Wandered around the United States with a shitty car and a year's salary and not a damn thing more. It was a good life, even if he got sore sleeping in his car. Spent a few weeks in Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Antonio. Gorgeous lights and gorgeous skylines even as the world around them died. He felt that on an existential level, and he didn't like snow but piece by piece, that's what started to heal that hole in his chest. The lights of New York glimmering on a freshly fallen sheet of snow. Not even dirty car wheels and jabbering voices could ruin the picture.

He didn't give one shit for the cold, but maybe it's good for him. Maybe he needs it.

Detroit had given him that, though he grouched about the cold and the snow and every other fucking thing. Now he sits at this beach on a chilly morning, the sky as gray as the smoke that he exhales, and wishes he'd never turned his back on any of those cities. His life's not a fucking good one. It's not one he'd ever choose to live again. If he turned around or something — died and came back and got to keep his memories, something or anything — he'd change a whole fucking ton. Everyone would, probably. Can anyone ever be happy in their own skin and shoes? Maybe they all just tolerate the shit for something decent. All they ask for is a moderate life.

Gavin's never even had that.

Whatever.

He flicks his half-smoked cigarette into the sand in front of the rock he's sat on for hours, but doesn't stand yet. One of his cats (Bacon) had finally found him, shamelessly shoving her face against his legs and yowling for attention. You'd think she was fucking dying. "Jesus Christ, BLT. You tryin' to wake the fucking dead?"

[CATALYST]

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Oh, the cold? Fuck the cold. What more needed to be said? It was the worst, and the fact that the Badlands didn't get obscenely cold during the winter was just one of the things that Cat liked about it. Sure, there might be some snow here and there, but it wasn't like going up to Flintlock. It wasn't even October and those people were probably popsicles by now.

They'd been many places in their life - almost a third of it they had lived a fairly nomadic lifestyle. People and places came and went, and the only place they wondered if they stayed, would things have been better was their childhood home. It was easy to think that all the kids there would still be assholes, might even try to attack them after that night. But they wouldn't have gotten separated from Molly, wouldn't have had to undergone the trauma of The Young Rogues and Mourningstar. Their body might be clear of scars, and they might be somewhere else completely. Somewhere more peaceful.

But they liked it here, weirdly. And it wasn't just the snow thing. The people here were assholes, but they were their assholes. They'd never genuinely felt like they were part of a community before - the cult didn't count; they thought they were a god. At best they'd been able to find one person that was alright, but for the most part they couldn't stand their peers. Or the closest thing they had to peers. It wasn't like that here.

Cat had been asleep when the yowling woke them up. For a few minutes, they hoped the accursed feline would just stop, but that didn't seem to be happening. Unable to fall asleep with the yowling, they disentangled themself from Gavril and pulled on some clothes, headed outside, wearing an expression of -5 patience. "Looks like it just did." They grumbled, Gavin being the unfortunate recipient of a quite displeased glare.

[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
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