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location: the guilded room
with: cash decker ( @barnsour )
the decision to patron the guilded room had been made on whim rather than any real planning on tess' part. the bass vibrated through her boots and bounced off the walls. the lights, dim with roaming strobes, created pockets of shadow across the place, and tess couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this. her twenties, maybe? sometime way back when the weight of responsibility had been nonexistent.
tonight, she felt good. and it had felt good to be seen, to feel her boots on the dance floor, and just... be. it was what everyone in redford needed, right? after the fire.
tessa slowly pushed through the bodies moving across the dance floor, chocolate hues landing on a familiar face at the bar. funny. she hadn't realized she'd been looking for him.
"well, look at that— he actually leaves the ranch," she teased, swiping the beer from his hold like it was hers to take, bringing it to her lips.
he was about halfway through his beer when it was snatched from his hand, much too distracted with the culprit to really care because tess was, well, tess. and there was a complicated non-history between the two of them. and before he knew it, he could feel his lips starting to form a slight smile.
"careful," he announced, "you keep stealin' my drinks 'nd people are gonna start thinkin’ you got a habit," he teased, as his smile finally cracked through. a habit of what? he wasn't exactly sure, but, that was besides the point. she was right, though. he was pretty damn consumed with work, that coming to something like this was definitely a rare appearance. and maybe a part of him stupidly hoped that she was coming too. "oh yeah, everyone should treasure this, cause it's not gonna happen again for a long time," he replied, matching her tone, "but it's good to see that you made it out," obviously for selfish reasons on his end, but because he knew she also deserved a night out, "you deserve it," only tess could really have him voluntarily saying more than a few words at a time, "trevor promise to be good tonight?"
⸻ jd pardo, forty seven, cis man, he/him ; … around redford, names don’t stay clean for long. NICO ALVAREZ is no exception. they are FORTY SEVEN, born and raised or just passing through the town. when the sun rises, they work as MECHANIC AT REDFORD AUTO SHOP, but around here, that rarely tells the whole story. their name has been heard in connection to THE RED JACKALS MC ( treasurer ) and like most in this town, they carry their weight in quiet ways. some say they can be STUBBORN and ZEALOUS, depending on who’s asking and what’s at stake. they’ve laid claim to THE OUTSKIRTS, though ownership in redford is never as simple as it looks. land shifts, loyalties change, and nothing stays untouched for long. lately, their name has been circling for being PRO MODERNIZATION. in a town where legacy matters and progress threatens, the only question that ever really lingers is this: will they hold their ground or lose everything trying?
HISTORY
triggers: violence, prison
nico's dad ran small-time hustles, nothing crazy, just enough to help put food on the table and keep the lights on. his dad justified it when nico caught on as he got older by telling him that he was just like robin hood, and glamorizing the life he was truly living. nico's mom, on the other hand, did his best to keep him straight, but she was usually working to make ends meet, especially when most of his dad's get rich quick schemes didn't work out. much to her dismay, nico always had one foot already out the door by the time he graduated high school, wanting to follow in his father's footsteps. that didn't last for long, and after a small prison stint, nico tried to go straight, getting hired to do some bullshit construction work.
during those few months, he felt like he was kind of just bored, twiddling his thumbs after work, unsure of his next move. thankfully, the red jackals came into his life when he needed it the most. he obviously had to work his way into even getting sponsored as a prospect, starting small, running errands for them, and doing what he was told to do without any push back. he proved himself by handling what he was asked to handle, no ifs ands or buts. whatever it was, it would get done. he just did it.
the club's been a constant in his life for over twenty years, considering he hasn't spoken to his parents since he left. when he needs to act on behalf of the club as treasurer, he'll give them one chance to fix it, if money's owed or if a cut is wrong, but that's it. after that, it’s handled. trusting people outside of the club is hard for him. he's loyal to those he feels has earned it, and it takes a lot to earn it with him. he also is annoyingly stubborn in the fact that he will not give up on anything that needs to be done. he's very persistent.
PERSONALITY:
he is can be a little judgmental, but he keeps it to himself. he's a true ambivert at heart. he always tries to take a step back before reacting to shit. he knows that emotions can run high, especially in his line of work, and he's done his best to not show any of them unless he wants to. his anger is something that he always tries to keep in control, but when it slips, it's gone.
the crack of the cue ball echoed through the rattlesnake bar, sharp enough to turn a few heads. jett leaned in slowly, lined it up, sending the eight ball gliding straight into the corner pocket with a final knock. game over; just like that. a few groans circled the table, a couple of curses under breath, but he barely acknowledged any of it. instead, the man straightened, rolling his shoulder once, the win cost him nothing at all. there's a stack of cash sitting near the rail - messy, tempting. he pulled it in with one hand, thumbing through it quick, not even counting, didn't need to, he already knew he'd come out ahead
glass in hand, he took a slow sip of his whiskey, dark eyes scanning lazily across the crowd like he was flipping through options on a menu he wasn't impressed by. the bar had that usual late night vibe, dim lights, sweat, cheap cologne, people pretending they had more to lose than they actually did. jett set the glass down on the edge of the table, cue resting against his shoulder "alright" he called, voice low but sharp just enough to hook attention "who's next?" a beat, then his gaze settled on someone in the crowd, chosen "ya, over yonder" he said, nodding his head, a predatory grin on his lips "c'mon, don't go playin' shy on me now. let's see if ya can last longer than the last poor bastard"
cash had been near the bar all night, keeping to himself on purpose. of course his uncle's here, and of course he was doing his best to avoid him. he really thought he was in the clear since it hadn't happened yet. but that was apparently too good to be true.
"god damn," he muttered, so that no one could hear once he had caught jett's attention. he swiftly got up before his eyes glanced at the pile of cash before landing on him. "still hustlin’ like you got somethin’ to prove?" he remarked with a teasing tone, trying to keep it friendly as he grinned at him,
cash then grabbed a cue from the rack, "figured you’d have cleaned out everyone in here by now," he added, "or had run outta folks dumb enough to keep sayin’ yes." at least he wasn't one of them, though maybe he was the sucker now. "let’s see if you still got it, old man."
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her nose scrunched and her eyes rolled at the comment about the size of her bag. adelaide wasn’t one to judge how anyone chose to indulge, but that didn’t mean she had to share. her elbow nudged into his side the second her brother stepped in close, already knowing exactly what he was about to do.
she shot him a look that said she’d seen it coming. “there’s a few things i don’t share, cash, and this right here’s one of ‘em.” a beat, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “you’re lucky you’re family, or i’d have you laid out flat.”
that smile turned sweeter, just to sell it. “really?"
"yeah, yeah," he muttered, unfazed at her nudge, already reaching back into the bag like she didn’t just warn him. "heard that one before," he said as he took another donut, popping it into his mouth slowly and deliberately.
"you ain’t never laid me out flat a day in your life," he added as he brushed the excess powder off his fingers, "don’t start talkin’ big just ‘cause you got a sugar rush." there’s no real warning behind his words, just annoying big brother teasing. "yes, really. you gonna lay someone out for the fried chicken too or what?"
" you want one? " fingers carefully extended a cigarette as another held onto her old metal lighter. " the bar is kind of empty, we close in a bit " it was late into the night, natalya felt uneasy with boredom, something a smoke could fix.
a regular job would, convenient to hide any of her crimes, yet a pain in the ass, nat often regret it taking it. " i can still pour a shot of something, but you gotta wait for nicotine to settle in " her lips curled in a grin, mischievous yet barely lit beneath the dim light of rattlesnake's entrance. " what do you say? "
more often than not, cash had a cigarette lit in his mouth. maybe chainsmoker wasn't the right word to describe him, but it was close, and he wasn't one to ever turn down a cigarette.
"could use one," he admitted as he gave her a nod, anticipating the rush of nicotine. he'd be content just taking a few hits outside, but a drink didn't sound bad at the moment either, "you tryin' to get me inside for a reason?" he was always suspicious of others, especially when it came to being somewhat generous, "you ain't gonna jump me, right?"
"no, for real... i sometimes forget how crazy these people are." whether the other was able to tell or not there was some affection in her tone. cruz used to be apart of the scene as a barrel racer and sometimes still engaged in it, but more as a hobby than competitor now. "seriously, something like this is probably one of the only places you'll see someone a bloody mess and grinning." a cowboy had previously passed them with a big gash in his leg and the leg of his jeans soaked in blood. "wonder if the bull paid that one back..."
"yeah," he nodded in agreement, "that’s ‘cause most of ‘em don’t know when to quit." which was probably obvious to everyone that wasn't them, but that was a different story. "or don’t want to," he adds, glancing sideways, "ain’t much else that makes you feel like that." the high they probably get from the thrill of it all, no doubt some of them enjoyed it.
his eyes moved back to the cowboy limping off, then back again, something a little sharper settling in his expression."bull probably did or at least i hope he did."
setting: fairgrounds/stadium
when: redford annual rodeo & fair
who: open
adelaide had always had a soft spot for the redford annual rodeo. meant spring was finally settling in. meant powdered sugar on her fingers from too many mini donuts, rides she’d never quite outgrown, the ferris wheel, the bumper cars, and the rodeo, of course. but more than any of it, it was the singing. that part had never changed. somewhere along the way, it just became her thing, the youngest decker and her voice.
it didn’t take much guessing where she’d end up first. straight to the mini donut truck, ordering the biggest bag they’d hand over like she had something to prove. not a single ounce of regret about it, either.
she could feel someone staring, though, that familiar weight of eyes lingering a little too long. she took her time turning, looking the stranger over like she wasn’t in any rush at all.
“you’d be real dumb not to get yourself a bag, darlin’.” a sweet smile sat easy on her lips.
every single year the annual rodeo seemed to come around faster than it did the year before. and every single year, he never had the chance to actually do any of things that he'd told himself he'd do during the event. probably because he felt like he was still working, since this was sponsored by them.
"geeze," he replied, as his eyes moved down towards the oversized bag, "you plannin’ on feedin’ the whole damn rodeo or just yourself?" he asked as he stepped besides her, close enough to steal one without asking, because he never does when it comes to his siblings and food. "you ever pair this with whiskey?" he asked as he wiped off the powder on his fingers on his jeans, "tastes better than that fried chicken." he admitted, as he nodded towards another food stand.
⸻ garrett hedlund, forty one, cis man, he/him ; … around redford, names don’t stay clean for long. CASH DECKER is no exception. they are FORTY ONE, born and raised or just passing through the town. when the sun rises, they work as RANCH FOREMAN, but around here, that rarely tells the whole story. their name has been heard in connection to DECKER ( firstborn ) and like most in this town, they carry their weight in quiet ways. some say they can be IMPULSIVE and LOYAL, depending on who’s asking and what’s at stake. they’ve laid claim to BRIAR RIDGE, though ownership in redford is never as simple as it looks. land shifts, loyalties change, and nothing stays untouched for long. lately, their name has been circling for being PRO PRESERVATION. in a town where legacy matters and progress threatens, the only question that ever really lingers is this: will they hold their ground or lose everything trying?
HISTORY
triggers: parental death
some may say that cash was born with whatever version of a silver spoon would be to those down south. from the day he was born, the first born of the next decker generation came with responsibility that he never asked for. expectations were clear from the beginning by his father, who saw him sometimes as an investment rather than as his son. a weight settled early on his shoulder's, something that never really lifted. being the oldest, he'd rather carry the weight of the world than put anything on his siblings.
cash knew the ranch like the back of his hand before he was even old enough to drink. he put a lot of hard work and long days into the land. he did his best to keep his head down, and did what he was told, knowing that one day, that his family's land would be in his hands. he didn't have much interest in school, and had a tendency to fight words with his fists. while others left once they graduated, perhaps to chase something bigger, cash stayed. he had to, even if his dad never actually asked him to, he knew what was expected of him. it's not like he ever wanted to actually leave redford, but the option would have been nice. however, his father's approval was something he craved, and he was not going anywhere. not when work had to be done.
and that's what he did.
with his father gone, everything feels different. his death wasn't supposed to happen so soon, cash needed more time with him. the ranch is all he knows, and yet, all of his hard work feels like it's for nothing. his father's approval was rare, if ever. he's unsure about his uncle now being in charge. cash thinks he should be at the head, and feels like he rightfully deserved it. he's still grieving, and he's unsure if it's his father he misses or the fact that he's still waiting to take over. and sometimes drowns his sorrows in a few drinks after a long day.
PERSONALITY:
personality wise, he's stubborn and guarded, and has a tendency to shut people out if he thinks they're getting too close. he keeps his emotions to himself, and sometimes it's like feels nothing or everything all at once and it has always been overwhelming for him when that's the case. he's extremely loyal, and would take a bullet for the people he loves without hesitation, but definitely doesn't know how to let people reciprocate that feeling towards him, it makes him uncomfortable. on the ranch, he'll speak up when things need to get done. outside of the ranch, he's always been more of an observer than a talker, and has sometimes let his fists do the walking.
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