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— location: any convenience store / bodega (probably at some ungodly hour but dealer’s choice!)
after the first two hours at her latest clean up, eris had lost count how long she’d actually spent cleaning up the, ehem, mess that was left behind by a job gone bloody. so to say that she needed everything salty, sugary, caffeinated … or all of the above, would be an understatement. hence her pondering her choices in one of the aisles, eyes scanning over the chips before she glanced at the person near her. “help a girl out maybe? i’m torn between getting something spicy or or just flavored to the point of addiction.” she snorted to herself, before gesturing at the bags. “what do you think i should get? or rather, what would you get?” call her indecisive and you’d be absolutely right. unfortunately, her exhausted brain seemed to only exacerbate the indecisiveness than usual.
This liminal space is nothing new, yet appreciated by him the minute he walks in with each thump of his boots. It's always the same order with Tones; a gatorade, maybe a beer if the day was dragging on, a pack of gum, and a bag of salted nuts. He's a simple guy with simple pleasures. The Prada belt buckle glints gold and clinks against the rings on his fingers when he shifts it rest exactly where he wants; just a simple guy.
"Dunno," he says lamely. "More of a salt guy, so, unless you wanna end up all shriveled out there in this heat by inhalin' down 5 of these, then shit ... next bet is a snickers," wanders down down the aisle, actually taking the time to look since he was accosted for an opinion, "or if you're feelin' brave, cut up some beef jerky'n put 'em in this noodle bowl... thing. Extra protein, and extra salty." Great, now he's hungry.
open to three .
This is premeditated, the sidelong glances and the motive to trail after the poor soul who had thought it was a fucking field day on the cards table. See, there were people who wanted to play it smart, and then there were those who made their reputation in the aftermath of it all. Tones would come to know these ones like choking weeds; the kind that snarls and grows into your space faster than you can say 'god bless you'. He pushes in behind him, using the brunt of his forearm to push him off balance onto the ceramic of the toilet. There's a string of swears, a few 'hey, man, it was just a game!' These were the types who were all big and bad in company, but the minute they gotta face the heat? 'There's a rule in place tonight!' The bathroom stall dividers rattle with impact, and the slick sound of knuckle against cheek fill the air. " This is why we can't ever have nice things, now, " the man slumps onto the toilet and Tones foot meets chest. " None of you know a damn about acting civilized, " the protest stops, and he knows well enough to reach into his pockets to take his winnings back. " Peace? " A slight chuff as he makes sure the guy isn't dead, just knocked around and passed out like another drunk who had a fun night out at tonight's peace party.
Tony straightens, smoothing down his outfit and rubbing his knuckles clean from all the mess he made onto the front of the poor guys shirt. Head cants, and he walks out. All sunshine and feeling lighter than he did before. " Oh, don't mind me, was just taking care of some lightweight. Far as you and I are concerned, that stall? Out of order. "
location: lucky coyote casino, a night of rest event.
status: open to any — feel free to assume pre-established relationship or go off vibes.
"if you're coming to ask me to join you in a game of god knows what, please hold your breath and save it for another," sky spoke, lifting her wine glass to take another sip as she gave an equal shake of her head; refusal already waiting before the question and answer had been given. for as much as she enjoyed a night out, gambling had never, and never would be, one of her past times. "offer me anything other than creative ways to lose my money, and perhaps my answer will change," her head tilted in thought, "another drink wouldn't go amiss. or a compelling reason as to why i should stay any longer than i already have." that last part sky was rather sure was because there was still something strangely fascinating about watching everyone gathered together at once, in one place. watching the personalities that clashed under the veneer of what was promised to be a pleasant evening. a lingering curiosity remained even over if someone would eventually become foolish enough to turn the night towards violence as it so often did.
All this isn't new to him, the scent of burning cigarettes among the cling cling cling of a slot machine going off in a dazzling flash of LED lights; all this was awfully familiar and he wasn't looking to become its best customer. " You're used to barkin' off orders, aren't you? " He reaches for his own drink, whiskey neat, sipping it down and settling it down with a heavy thunk. It's subtle, but his gaze tracks the nearest server to whom he flags with the raise of his forefinger along the rim of his glass. " Now I'm not claimin' I'm the interesting man here, but I do believe I'd be doin' some kind'f wrong leaving you without knowing the highs and lows of my drink of choice, " as though on cue, a new drink is placed near her. " It might even make you stomach those in here better than your fruity wine will, unless you like that sort of stuff... " casual conversation made even more blasé as he settles into his seat even more as he people watches.
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TONY 'TONES' LASZO,
title: quartermaster. age: thirty - five . gender: cismale, he/him. sexuality: demi-romantic, pansexual. allegiance: the remains. label: the allegiant
influences: Obi-wan Kenobi (star wars), Tyrion Lannister (got), Elrond(lotr), han solo(star wars), Gurney Halleck (DUNE), Mercutio (Romeo and Juliet) mbti: aesthetic: first born, there’s heat dripping from your mouth. compassion laced like red thread to rib and bone, with gilded oaths wrapped as iron made into the shape of blade and heat; the watching eye; like flame cresting against the metal with all force, unrelenting / waves crashing onto the shore and you've never known the gentle tides only the salt on your tongue; blood, mechanical parts, and loyalty, you were moulded in it, and you will sink like stone into it.
[...] history,
The beginning is never as nice as he spins it to those coming in with their fingers on the trigger, looking for a way in to carve up all that remains of him. Ironic, to have the last of him tucked deep in a gang whose name bears the same sentiment he can't help but chuff at. It's nothing new, or even anything to think back on, Tony's past.
Like any country boy in the middle of the plains with nothing to do but to watch those older than yourself bring trouble to their very porch, Tony was always a keen eye.
Parents owed money, mom was always running off with her latest flavour of the month, pops was neck deep in the slots chasing after their next big win with the promise of a bright tomorrow, you just gotta have faith, Tones. Best show of that damned faith was when his dad had come in with a beat up old machine, "just gotta clean her up real nice, a little spit, a little grease and she'll be purring real nice, Tones." His pops wasn't complaining when little Tony Tones was playing mechanic in the back of their rundown place, tinkering with that old machine like it was his goddamned hallulejah.
It only made sense that he'd take off one night, not ever looking back.
He'll spin a tale about his nights on the road and it's always gonna ring true because Tones was always somewhere, but no where. It was hard, but it was true, and that's all that mattered to him growing up on the gravel road. For more than twenty years he dedicated on his bike, travelling god knows where but that was the best thing about always being on the run, nobody knows how to track you. A man's always got to have his morals, a daily mantra he clung to with his fingers slipped in a mean silver cuff as brought it down with each pummel into flesh.
MAN WANTED: — Grand Theft Auto — Possession of Stolen Property — Illegal Weapons Trafficking— Armed Robbery— Assault with a Deadly Weapon— Aggravated Assault— Felony Battery— Extortion— Racketeering— Smuggling Contraband Across State Lines— Receiving and Distributing Illicit Goods— Evading Law Enforcement— Destruction of Property— Breaking and Entering— Criminal Conspiracy— Suspected Homicide (x4)— Witness Intimidation— Obstruction of Justice
Authorities suspect Laszo has operated under multiple aliases across three states. Exact age and place of birth remain disputed.
For more then twenty years, he's survived off what he knew but there was always someone with bigger teeth than you out here; and it's what brought him to heel at what The Remains called, a better path.
From a young boy, to a grown man with more than twenty years served with the Remains; Tones is still alive.
Quartermaster, he knows every dirt road, every face he comes in contact with, and the motivations of men far more crooked than he was. Something right about being amongst men who have darker plans than he did, and for him, it was as much comfort as being part of a family. Tones was always hardwired for this role, for these people, for this kind of life... He knows it to be true with each heist, each scheme, each plan gone right and falling in his favour. The casino is just a plus.
( jacob scipio, thirty five, cismale, he/him ) ⸻ hey, wait a second— i could swear that was TONY 'TONES' LASZO that just walked past. don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the QUARTERMASTER of THE REMAINS they’ve been a member for TWENTY YEARS and apparently they’re actually LOYAL, so make sure not to forget this time. i’ve heard they’re known as THE ALLEGIANT, and i can tell you for sure that they’re NOBLE and BLASE on a good day, but i don’t think you’d like to see them when they’re PRIDEFUL and STUBBORN. rumour has it that they Tones was always a wayward boy with aimless ambition, equipped with only a motorcycle patched with scrap found along his journey and the battle scar dents belonging to a vagrant. He was young when first found by the remains, and because of his loyalty proved by sheer grit and determination, he has shown no reason to not be their watching eye, but i don’t know if anyone has ever lived long enough to confirm it. either way, most people would use PRIDE. by KENDRICK LAMAR to describe them, as well **_first born, there’s heat dripping from your mouth. compassion laced like red thread to rib and bone, with gilded oaths wrapped as iron made into the shape of blade and heat; the watching eye; like flame cresting against the metal with all force, unrelenting / waves crashing onto the shore and you've never known the gentle tides only the salt on your tongue; blood, mechanical parts, and loyalty, you were moulded in it, and you will sink like stone into it.**_. god only knows how they ended up here, but love them or hate them, they’re not going anywhere. ⸻ ( chris p. RABBIT, est, 30, she/they, est )
“Remember, how so ever you are played or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone. Even though those who presume to play you be kings or men of power.”
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