destroy mankind >> open ;; target practice

[MICHAEL.]

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[div style="borderwidth; width: 400px; padding: 1px; text-align: justify; color: #4B3E2D; line-height: 14px; font-size: 11pt; font-family:timesnewroman"]"speech" 'thought' text
tw: alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion

Dark eyes trained on the target in front of him, one pistol in his hand, another on his hip, a set of targets ranging from two meters to 40 meters out, while the gun's accuracy decreased the further out it got, Mike wanted to hone his skills.

His index finger hovered over the trigger, then the gun went off, bang, bang, bang! One, two, three targets hit (none dead center though the middle one was decently close) that was the target fifteen meters away. He placed the weapon back into it's holster, wasting ammunition was not his goal, he didn't want to use up all his bullets, making gunpowder was a lot of work.

The man scowled slightly has he walked towards the first target, nailed onto a tree on the edge of the beach. An old coat painted with a red circle, the bullet had lodged itself into the tree, four inches from the center. His scowl increased, he was out of practice.

He was more used to welding an axe these days, cutting down trees, cutting up those trees, turning them into firewood, and trading that to keep himself clothed, that with hunting he had been contented living alone in the mountains, the howling wind his constant companion.

[CATALYST]

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﹝[abbr=don't look back]♢[/abbr]﹞

They hated the sound of gunshots. So fucking much. They were loud and obnoxious and sudden, and always sent a tendril of dread curling in their stomach. Gunshots meant that if they dared to investigate (which they always did), they'd need to have their own firearm ready, which was an issue to Cat all unto itself.

So Cat followed the sound, hoping that it would just be someone practicing their aim, or someone hunting, and not a conflict that would require their attention. Not someone getting hurt. Upon arriving on the scene, they found it was the former, which was quite a relief to them. They sighed and holstered their own gun, folding their arms across their chest. "Looks like you've got some room for improvement there." That was almost downright nice from them. Aside from not actually being nice.

[spoiler=IF YOU DONT KNOW NOW YOU KNOW && INFO && 11/27/19]GENERAL  welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life
⇥ Given name is Scott Mathew Darrow ⇥ Alias is Catalyst
⇥ Will accept Cat or Catalyst from anyone, Scott only from family
⇥ Assigned male at birth ⇥ Agender ⇥ They/Them pronouns only
⇥ Twenty-two ⇥ 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
⇥ 11/12/39 ⇥ Made their return to public life in the Badlands
⇥ 11/07/39 ⇥ Took a break to recover from their illness
⇥ 11/02/39 ⇥ Came down with a cold

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 by Gavril Lupei
⇥ 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]

[capt. salem]

LIES A THOUSAND HORRIFYING MEMORIES | | |

Gunshots were tricky to categorize; he felt impassioned about them in general. Did he particularly hate them? Nope, but he didn't revel in the noise either. It was simply a background noise of life nowadays.

But he was supposed to be like- responsible, or whatever. So he unholstered his revolver and headed towards the sound. Luckily it was just Mike, practicing his aim it seemed. Mike seemed to be out of practice, and thinking about it Salem ought to practice more too; honing his accuracy couldn't hurt.

"Agreed, you don't want to be wasting too many bullets on areas that don't drop people." Salem commented, staying a respectable distance away from the mock shooting range.

[justify]I feel the unbearable weight, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty | He/Him or They/Them Pronouns | 28yrs Old | 6'3"| Councilman of the Badlands | Former pirate captain | Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all, romance is questioning]&[/abbr]
I sense the ripping of my shame, [abbr=Medium-Hard Physically | Hard Mentally | Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver | Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior | Not open for death | Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
I hear the sigh of indifference [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic | Neck-length dull brownish-grey hair | Bright green eyes | Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing | Scruffy beard starting to grow in | Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]