𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

[ Michiel Huisman, Cis Man, He/His, 40 ] Wanted, dead or alive is Renard “Redd” van Daal. They are a carpenter who has been in Lancaster for 1 year. They are affiliated with The Sinful Ones and serve them as the Vice President. People say they are tactful and charming but their enemies would say they are vicious and cruel. They are described as: soft brown curls pushed lazily away from empty hazel eyes, the comfort of an old flannel button-down, hard callouses worn into hands from a lifetime of work.

open for:  anyone. event:  wonderland grand opening.

          Being a wallflower was never an option for Rachel. No, she once ruled this town as a teenager with fire in her belly. Perhaps that fire has since turned into a simmer, as she feels herself fading as the night grows long. Her brown eyes wander, brows slightly furrowed in thought. She’s two vodka sodas down, feeling only a slight buzz. What Rachel doesn’t fully comprehend is that this wasn’t a high school party. There was nobody and nothing to conquer, nobody to impress with tying a cherry stem in her mouth. This was an event filled with people who didn’t give a damn, people who just wanted to dance under neon lights and drink. Maybe that upset her to some capacity, feeling that helpless. 

Her hand raises, the tips of her fingers brushing over her lips, still in thought. Finally she turns, locating the nearest willing stranger. “Have you danced yet?” Rachel questions, her tone smooth and alluring. 

-

      There was something alluring about the pounding bass in clubs like these. Redd was certain his heartbeat mimicked the tempo, a steady thrum against his ribcage in accompaniment to the cadence of whatever song nearly deafened him (and if he lost the hearing in his left ear he’d have to make full use of the sign languages he’d learned as a child). It was a if his other senses keenly tuned into the music, let him tap into the atmosphere of Wonderland effortlessly, and he too was an attraction with the lights and sway. He’d spent some time already on the dance floor ---alone, with company, but there were moments to spare before the real fun began.

      One brow cocked at the question - watched the shape of full lips as they spoke it, and further acquainted himself with the one speaking. The waitress. Now, Redd was keen on women, sure ... it was a source of jest among his brothers in arms, but he was keen on her. He tipped her too much, even if she was in a foul mood. He liked to watch her when she balanced dishes on her forearm, the sway of her hips when she moved back and forth from the counter to the kitchen, to the booths for service. A crush, playground shit for sure. Probably because he hadn’t slept with her yet. Probably because she either wasn’t interested or made it difficult to read. (He’d argue the second, because no woman inclined toward men on this green planet could refuse him, right? (oh, the ego on him, not even remotely fragile but so very inflated)). 

      “ Not with you. ” Dark curls were a bit heavy with slight dampness from the heat of it out there ---so many bodies moving together in accordance to pre-dictated rhythm - but he was willing to dive back in. Drink be damned. He offered his hand out, slick smirk spreading across his lips, lost against the scruff of his beard.

“don’t   look   now .   .   .   but   that   cutie   by   the   bar   is   totally   checking   you   out.   so,   need   me   to   be   your   wingwoman   or   bodyguard?   i’m   good   for   either.”   trying   to   gauge   if   they   were   interested   or   creeped   out.   she’d   probably   make   a   pretty   terrible   bodyguard   but   it   was   the   sentiment   that   counted.

@retaliationmedia​

-

      Don’t look now. And of course the first thing he did? Look. Cold hazel eyes, ones that smirks never quite met (though it was hard to tell with how wide he made them) traced over the figure pointed out to him in conversation. Consideration was made, weighing odds in his head whether it was worse leaving his place in the moment or if it was something to pursue later ---neither won, and he stayed put. For now. “ Shyness only works in penny novels and period dramas. There’s nothing cute or fun about chasing someone whose unsure of themselves. ” He swallowed back a mouthful of beer, the bottle clinking on the counter when he set it down. “ Not worth the effort. Thanks, though. ”

MAY 14TH, SATURDAY. WONDERLAND. FT. OPEN TO EVERYONE ( @retaliationmedia )

The opening of Wonderland was something the whole town had seem to talk about and Valeria was excited, the establishment unlike anything else in Lancaster. There had been some special energy coming from the crowd as they waited outside. No one had to tell her, tonight was a great opportunity to get close to certain people. Valeria had the party girl act so perfect that no one suspected the sweet and quiet nature that hid deep into her. The weight of her family on her shoulders, she was expected to use her charms and body to help the Sinful Ones. There were times when she even believed herself, loosing trace of who she used to be. “Open bar?” she half asked to the one near her. “The owner really went all out.” There was a soft laugh that escaped, one that lost itself under the volume of the DJ playing. “Future me won’t be happy, but that’s a problem for tomorrow, right?”

-

      There was something catching about events like this. Redd had been exposed to them in his teen years - parties where the tension was absolutely buzzing, alive on the surface of his skin. Tonight it was different, delicious in a way that had his teeth on edge and his eyes alight. He was alive. It was a moment he’d been waiting for longer than he cared to admit. A high tolerance to alcohol had him easily putting away a few beers with no side-effect, schmoozing with whatever pretty face would entertain his antics before he shifted onto the next. Nothing too catching, lest he lose track of the end goal. When he stopped at the bar for another drink he mused at the familiar face ---everyone played a part tonight, and he nodded. “ Seems he did. ” When the beer was delivered to his palm he wrapped his fingers around it and raised it, toasting Valeria. “ To future you’s tomorrow problems. ”

The Fool: What is the stupidest thing your muse has ever done?

The Empress: What would your muse name their children?

Judgement: Would your muse ever go back to their most recent ex-lover?

The World: What has been your muse's greatest success?

The Sun: What was the happiest moment of your muse's life?

Wheel of Fortune: Does your muse believe in luck?

The Hierophant: What is one rule or law your muse would never break?

Strength: Name a time when your muse had to be strong in the face of danger or trouble.

The Star: If your muse had one wish, what would it be?

The Magician: What would your muse draw if given paper and markers?

The Emperor: Name a time your muse has broken the rules.

Death: If your muse had to change something about themselves, what would they change?

The Chariot: If your muse ruled the world, what would they change first?

The High Priestess: What is the smartest thing your muse has ever done?

Temperance: Would your muse remain calm despite the worst circumstances?

The Lovers: At what age did your muse first fall in love?

The Hermit: If your muse were trapped alone on an island, name three things they'd have to have..

The Moon: Has your muse ever had something unexplained happen to them? If so, what?

Justice: What's something your muse has been dying to admit or confess?

The Hanged Man: Name a bad habit your muse can't give up.

The Devil: What was the worst relationship your muse has ever had?