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IF YOU'RE GONNA BE A ONE TRICK PONY ... THAT ONE TRICK BETTER BE DAMN GOOD.
𝑩asics.
full name: sloane shen. alias: stallion. age: 24. birthday: april 11th. gender: cis woman [she/her]. orientation: bisexual. hometown: fort bend county, texas, usa. occupation: full time mechanic. crew: nariza bois. height: 5'3". hair: dark brown, waist length, straight, will be pinned up with a hair clip when working. tattoos: the head of her horse inside of a heart, with the name dolly written in cursive underneath [right arm] + steering wheel [lower back :p]. style: country + comfortable. cowboy hats & boots, white tanks, low rise jeans, denim jackets or leather jackets if the weather calls for it.
𝑩iography.
sloane's first word is love; not that anyone knows. at night her father presses a kiss to her forehead and tells her i love you. wǒ ài nǐ. the first word that comes out of her mouth is 爱. ài, ài, ài! she says. love, love, love. three times, to show she means it. she doesn't know she's been misunderstood. when her mother laughs, thinking it's just baby babble, she just laughs along.
love grows in her bones, in the hands she uses to brush dolly's mane, in the jaw as she opens her mouth to tell her parents i'll be home before dinner, in the knees knocking under the table with a boy she's known since kindergarten. and when her cousin pulls up to the ranch with their new car for the first time, sloane thinks there might be love in the feet that bring her to that purring engine.
miami in the summer is all heat. sloane is fifteen and finds love under the hood of an out of commission camaro, bringing it back to life with clumsy but passionate hands. at seventeen she meets a boy at a restaurant and kisses him with enough warmth and fondness to make it special, but not enough to make it love.
in the end, there's not enough love in the ranch to get her to stay. she leaves home at eighteen with a hug and a kiss on the forehead and starts her vocational education in the city. she starts learning from pages in a book and from the mouths of people who understand why her love manifests in an itch to take things apart and put them back together. her enthusiasm earns her a degree and a position in an auto shop at twenty.
sloane falls in love again at twenty two. at her first race, with her heart thumping in her ears, feeling the vibrations of the rubber tires tearing across the asphalt, she finds love in a dangerous new world. she keeps coming back, keeps eyeing the lit up cars with fascination, keeps dreaming about taking them apart and finding out how they're different from the cars she knows.
where there is love to be found, there too, sloane will be. and there is so much love for sloane to discover with nariza, in their cocksure grins and victorious cheers, in the engines of their flashy cars.
there is enough love in miami to make it a home. this is what sloane believes.
𝑪haracter.
sweet as molasses ;) friendly, approachable, charming, the type that can win over someone's parents effortlessly. helps the elderly cross the street, gets balloons out of trees for kids, etc etc. just cartoonishly nice. she says it's the southern hospitality she was raised with but even back in texas she was something of a rarity.
she's also young and she knows it, and embraces it. she's fun she's flirty she's free! looking for a deeper, more serious connection compared to most people her age (and most people in miami perhaps...) but she enjoys a little harmless flirty flirty winky winky every now and then :). by that i mean just literal casual flirting with zero stakes. might've caused many a disappointment with people who were looking to hook up only for her to go oh sorry i don't do casual.
can be kind of a brawler despite the aforementioned niceness. she's sweet but she won't take bullshit or open hostility sitting down. packs a wallop despite her smaller stature. might not be all that great at fighting but she knows how to throw her entire weight behind a punch at least :D. Because she's nice though, she would be the type to go for a handshake after a fight, or assume that all was well after duking it out once. not that she can't hold a grudge, because she definitely can, she's just selective with them :3.
wasn't there for the origins of the crew beef so she doesn't really feel any certain type of way about it personally. however, i think she's possibly on her way to getting sucked in if she continuously gets antagonised by the prowlers (and jet just being scary). if she was pressed to take sides she would! though generally she wants to maintain a let's all be friends outlook, she knows when to draw the line.
that's all i can think to say about her for the moment i think... she just has a lot of hope :3 and love :3 and optimism :3 and a texan accent :p.
𝑳inks.
pinterest.
playlist.
𝑾anted 𝑪onnections.
LESSONS ON HOW TO BE GOOD. maybe sloane's goodness is infectious... maybe your muse wants to learn
GOOD LUCK! smth smth sloane functioning as a living good luck charm :3 for a racer or a gambler who knows!!
KNEW U WHEN. met before sloane joined nariza and hit it off rly well (friendly stylez or romantic stylez who knows) but then found out she joined the rival crew n now things are #weird...
WINGING IT. either sloane's wingmaning for someone whose taste leaves a lot to be desired (she's trying to find them safe, nice, respectful hookups) or they're trying to set sloane up/trying to get her out of her Serious Commitment Only bubble
FIRST LOVE (NEVER REALLY ENDS). sloane always claims her first love is her pickup truck, but that’s not really true. sloane was in uni when she met her true first love. it was rly sweet and picturesque but then they had to separate for some reason or another and now they’ve met again in this different setting. it’s not like they’re still in love with each other (unless...), but you never really forget your first, and it always feels like they’re just one step away from falling back into old routines. [i think sloane’s whole no fling thing might be a direct result of this relationship. bc it was so good she sorta knows nothing compares to actually putting ur whole heart on the line].
WELL WHAT DID YOU EXPECT. sometimes sloane’s just too optimistic to mind a red flag or two, so when someone approaches her with the intent of only keeping her around for a night or two or three, she tends to believe in things she can’t see, hidden intentions that might reveal themselves to her later. of course, all she gets out of that is disappointment and a bit of heartbreak when she asks for more and they only tell her oh, i thought you knew what this was. [ex fwbs bc sloane thought it was leading to a real relationship only to find out it wasn’t going anywhere]
aaaand if none of those work: the wanted section on her pinterest :3
open to anyone, set at track - one after monday’s race …
not a win for reign, but three narizas on top. not the worst outcome. edel stretches like a content housecat as he steps out of his car, a picture of relaxation despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “ not a bad race. what do you think ? ”
It feels a bit like the world balancing itself back out when the race ends, like the universe is making it up to Sloane, little by little. “Thought it was a darn good showin'.” She smiles like there aren't eyes all over her, scanning for signs of injury, or just curious about the state of her. She's standing next to Edel hoping he might eclipse some of the unwanted attention. “Now what kinda celebratin' are you up for tonight?”
☆ sloane shen 🛞 @1800horsepower
☆ the crowded and rowdy scene of heartbreaker bar
the days following the news of stallion's accident were tense all around. the suspicion of prowler involvement pissed her off more than anything. when would any of them have any time to fuck with that bullshit car when it was delivered straight to her? and with tigress now breathing down their necks to watch out for their surroundings— paranoia, giselle's chalked it up as— she needed a breather. choosing heartbreaker over 12welve may be entirely out of character, but a quick and cheap drink was calling to her. finding stallion saddled up at the counter should shock her, but if she's already out and about at the infamous bonebreaker, surely she's fine by now.
stepping up to the available space beside her, she tries to sneakily eye the mechanic's bruises. purposefully engaging with the nariza boi may not be the best idea— she's not sure what she's heard since getting out of the hospital, but giselle can't help but to open her mouth. ❛ heard about the car. your face is still in tact at least. ❜
Coming to in the hospital was unpleasant, sure. But piecing everything together afterwards was much worse. What's Sloane supposed to say to being told that someone tampered with the car? That they wanted her to crash — and might've wished much worse than just an overnight stay in the hospital for her. Not everything has a silver lining, Sloane's learning, despite how desperate she is to find one.
So, drinks. The shock of purple blooming underneath the strap of her tank top has earned her a free scotch, which makes it much easier to swallow. And then there's Giselle. As far as silver linings go, she's got the greatest potential of being one. Sloane lips curl up habitually. “Were you worried, darlin'?” Even if Giselle were to say she was disappointed to see Sloane still alive and kicking, she'd have been pleased. Any thought spared for her in Giselle's pretty little head is a win in Sloane's book. “My nose has seen better days. Might need someone pretty to kiss it better.”
when the glass cracks, for a second the world splits with it. the impact of the hood against the windshield startles sloane into shutting her eyes. but even if she could see, there wouldn't have been any way to avoid the airbags. her hand slips on the steering wheel. the car pivots.
everything goes white—and sloane hears horses. it's fall again and the wind nips at her cheeks as she rides. she's small and she's free and she's infinite.
"oh my god!"
she tumbles out of the open fields and onto her knees. the pavement embraces her as she folds over, sucking in air expecting it to taste like green grass and oak trees. she's bleeding onto the concrete. someone tries to talk to her but she's too busy plucking petals for lady luck.
she loves me. congratulations, sloane shen! she loves me not. hood. windshield. airbag. she loves me. hang in there, i've called an ambulance. she loves me not. nose. leg. blood. blood. blood.
something closes in in the distance; the thunderous sound of hundreds of hooves clip-clopping against the asphalt to try and get to her, to take her some place eternal. but when she looks up there is only the miami skyline.
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☆ open starter 🛞 uncapped
☆ outside sometime around 7PM near the stage, a throne for the lady most fair
it was taunting him. that stupid fucking car that everyone was fawning over, fingers crossed their name would be pulled as the lucky winner of its title, was taunting him. the very car that symbolized the beginning of his descent— the loss of his first home and perhaps even his innocence. looking at it now, he can see his father before him. hear him too. a finger pointed in his face, voice loud and pounding in his ears as he goes on and on about his son's failures. it was poetic almost to see it all made up with modern modifications. sanghoon would hate it, or at least harvey thinks he would. it's not like he ever really knew him anyway.
his attention is pulled away from glittering metal as someone approaches in his peripheral. assuming them to be yet another scummy car guy looking to rip his supra off him, low voice comes out monotone and uninterested, ❛ i'm not selling. ❜
entering the raffle is less about the car and more about the spectacle. sloane's easy like that. make a big enough fuss and she might just be interested enough to get herself involved. she wonders for a moment about the surreptitious glances she keeps catching harvey give the big prize of the night, something a little dark underlining those usually bright eyes. it reminds her that there's a whole side of his past she hasn't touched. unmarked territory. she wanders over with no expectations, but maybe a little hope that she might catch a glimpse of something she doesn't usually get to see.
“aw, shucks.” she knows the tone isn't meant for her, but she responds anyway, eyes round like she's a little heartbroken. “'n here i thought i'd finally worn you down enough to swipe that car off you.”
jiha has a creeping suspicion, once sloane bats her eyes, that the most dangerous and tempting thing inside that casino is right by her side. it's enough to make her laugh, undoubtedly charmed by her friend in the way she imagines most who spend more than five minutes with the mechanic were. “you know i wouldn't. besides,” she shrugs, a conspiratorial glimmer reflecting in her dark irises as she takes the other in, eyes roving over seraphic features like they're clued in on a secret she won't share. “this place should be scared of you.” sloane's concession strikes the same selfish delight jiha's carried since childhood, forever pleased with getting her way, like a devil being promised a a new soul. it was usually the other way around for the pair: the racer with the hunger to learn, the mechanic with the knowledge to give it. she points at squares on the edges of the colored black and red ones. “for starters, there are two types of bets in roulette. an outside bet, an inside bet, or you can do both.” she tosses a chip onto black, and another on even. “outside bets are broader. black or red, odd or even, high or low. you can bet on groups of twelve numbers. inside bets,” jiha explains, gesturing to the colored squares, “can be individual numbers, or split between groups of two, four, or six numbers. you can bet on zeros, too, which is fun.” another chip placed, the casual afterthought of a seasoned gambler, this time on the green double zero space. “then you just watch the wheel spin and see what happens. piece of cake, really.”
there is a certain confidence that being by jiha's side inspires, like sloane's managed to somehow attach herself to the biggest dog in the yard despite being a clueless puppy. or a cat that's found itself in the wrong neighbourhood. jiha barks out her explanations and sloane perks her ears up to listen. the rules are simple enough, though the sheer amount of numbers staring up at her are oddly intimidating. sloane watches, for a moment, as other people around the table place their bets. some with overlap, but not much.
sloane places one of her lower valued chips on red, just because jiha did black. something like covering all their bases in her mind, even if this isn't a game played in teams. then she follows after jiha, another chip on the green double zeroes. she grins a little at jiha as she does it, wondering if this might be bad roulette etiquette, if there even is such a thing. “no strategy required at all, huh?” once all the chips are placed, the dealer spins the wheel. sloane listens to the ball bounce and clatter, something like expectation sitting pretty on her shoulders.
“ain't it scary, leavin' it all up to chance like this? or is this how you get your rocks off?”
✦ ⌢ coyote casino ＠ ~8:30 p.m. ｡
✦ ⌢ @1800horsepower reacted for a starter from nory ｡
a pleasant warmth buzzes through her system, thanks to the casino's cocktail menu & a generous server. there's just enough alcohol in her system to not spin on her heels the moment that she sees sloane. in fact, she stands there for a moment & takes in the other's beauty. something equally radiant & hypnotic about her demanding to be seen. like a woman possessed, she walks through the crowd until she stands in front of the other. ❝ um— ❞ it's then that words choose to fail her, of course. a laugh at her own stupor. ❝ hey. ❞
heaven is here in miami. and so is temptation. the casino is a breeding ground for mistakes and sloane is only a victim waiting. it's just not the slots calling, or the blackjack, or even the drinks. her bait is much prettier, much more effective than a risky gamble, and walks right up to her when she isn't expecting.
it's not a night for kicking bad habits, it seems. sloane can't resist the way she turns towards nory, a fly to her flytrap. sloane only hopes she won't get spit back out this time.
“hi.” the ghost of a darlin' hovers over her lips. “you look good,” she settles on. it still feels like too much. she's never been good at pretending she doesn't want something. “plannin' on makin' any mistakes tonight?”
in a lot of ways, harvey's grateful for sloane. it seemed like anytime he was in a bad spot, there she was, parading over with a smile and her signature cowboy hat and boots he always pesters her about. he's glad that even after their teenage years they could reconnect again through nariza. at least something stuck.
he laughs as she pops up from below the chlorinated water. ❛ are you propositioning me? ❜ hand on his chest, he pretends to be scandalized, but the grin gives him away. ❛ i thought i'd never see the day. ❜ removing his shirt and kicking his far too baggy jeans away, he follows suit and dives into the vacant pool. resurfacing, he shakes out the dark hair that clings to his forehead and hangs over his eyes. ❛ shit, you weren't kidding! why'd we choose this and not the hot tub again? ❜
they've come a long way from seventeen, but sometimes it feels like no time has passed at all. sloane wades in the shallow end, thinking of her cousin's old apartment and the cheap candles she bought for a night that was special in all the ways it wasn't.
“down boy,” she says with a laugh, flicking water at his face. “this is exactly why we're not in a hot tub. not sure if i could trust you to keep your hands or eyes to yourself.”
she's hoping the chill and the chemicals in the water might wipe away some of whatever's on harvey's mind, or at least inspire him to share. sloane's not always good at asking plainly. “how're you feelin'?”
backlit by the neon glow of the casino's lights, she's the serpent in the garden of eden, a devil in low rise denim just begging eve to take a bite. jiha had never been scared of temptation— it was everywhere growing up, the darker walks of life no stranger when it was the path her own father chose to live up until the moment they'd come to lock him away. she can feel sloane inching closer, the purest of shadows, and maybe it says something about her, the way even watching the mechanic step foot into coyote thrilled her to some degree, like it was her own personal victory to be able to drag an angel into hell. “if you ask me, amy had it easy. where i come from, stories like that usually end with someone dyin'.” and then she laughs, hooking her arm around the other girl. “you really gonna spend your whole life afraid of things you've never tried just ‘cause someone told you to be?” brows are raised in challenge, as if to say eat the apple, a grin splitting her face wide open. “just one game of roulette, sloane. you're not gonna walk out of here a gambling addict after one little game of pure dumb luck. —and anyway, we're celebrating. you can't celebrate from the sidelines.”
the fear lies in the certainty of being an easy mark. sloane knows her own weaknesses. her nana and her ma might've been strong enough to resist the temptation and cajoling of people who only want to sap up your money and leave you dry, but sloane's always been more like her pa when it comes to stuff like this; soft and pliable.
jiha tugs them towards a roulette table. it was a losing game from the start, sloane had already swapped her hard earned cash for chips the first time she walked in. easy mark, as she said.
“would you love me less for bein' a scaredy cat?” sloane flutters her lashes a little and pouts, an expression that got her out of trouble more times than she could count as a kid. it's maybe a little less effective now that she's an adult.
“ah, well, since we are celebratin'... 'n i suppose one game won't kill me...” they come to a stop at the table, sloane trying to make sense of all the numbers on the board and the roulette wheel by the dealer. she has no idea where to start. “you're gonna have to walk me through this, angel.”
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face scrunching in confusion a small notch folds in the center of their two brows, “ her ? “ their voice is a little too loud as their eyes follow the girl in question. as mirae steps away from the pair their gaze follows them lingering, she was hot sue them. “ — but she’s got such a nice ‘fit ? like she can’t be that bad if she can rock a fit that good ! “ a small ghost of a frown pulling on their lips. with an added huff they turn their attention back to sloane, “ you haven’t lead me wrong yet so i totally believe you ! “
ah. the way nova's eyes trail after mirae is more than telling. well. sloane supposes she can't blame them. though she can do her best to steer them in another direction. “wolf in sheep's clothin', i'm tellin' you.” she worries about nova getting chewed up and spit back out, someone not yet steady with their hands. mirae's unforgiving on the best of days. she shudders to think of what might happen if she happened upon an actual mistake. “'n i appreciate the trust, sweetheart. we oughta be lookin' out for each other here.”
it isn't about the loss. she can handle losing. been around the prowlers enough to see cars she's worked on not finish first. it wasn't a blow to her ego, it wasn't anything more than a reminder that she has to do better work. but they'd lost to nariza. five cars finish before the first prowler does, and three more pass before rodani even reaches a top three. the looks on their faces, the words eddie had spewed at her, the resentment she recognized in jets eyes. it's enough to end up at heartbreaker, bottle of corona half empty. hold on the neck tightening at the voice behind her. “ doubt any of those racers even let you near their car, ” she's smart to not utter a word about the way she had looked under julian's hood before the race. “ is there a reason you're here and not out celebratin' those prized wins? i'm sure baby's out at 12welve, maybe you'll get a free shot for the tire alignments you provided. i'm guessin' that's all they let you do over there. ”
there's no need to gloat, in truth. there never is. sloane knows well enough that if their situations were flipped she'd hate to be ambushed this way, but knowing better and practising better are two different things. so she smiles and she laughs and she pretends xile's words don't get under her skin, but they always do. that's the thing about fighting with her in particular. their understanding of each other is underlined by their understanding of cars, and they both know more than a thing or two about cars. “'n i suppose it would make you feel better to know you've lost to nova than to me? they've only just got started, y'know. only been here two months. should i tell 'em the good news that they beat big bad rocky while still wet behind the ears?”
there's no real reason to her presence at heartbreaker other than the fact that she's as of yet undecided as to which celebration she'll be attending. she has options tonight, unlike xile. “oh, don't you worry 'bout me, i'll be havin' my share of fun tonight. just wanted to offer my services... i could teach you a thing or two if you'd like. it ain't a shameful thing to ask for help when you need it. 'n honey, you need it.”
cut watches as her lips wrap around the bottle, amusement and a flash of something else flickering in his eyes when her expressions twists. “ told you. ” and when she offers to buy him a drink instead, somethin’ that’s actually good, he hums, little “ mhmm, ” filling the space. he's not used to being on the receiving end. “ aren't you generous. let me guess, a cosmopolitan.. no, a lemondrop. ” looks like she’d want something as sweet as her. he pushes off his chair, casting her another glance that lingers for far too fucking long and a hand to hold. “ alright, let’s what what you consider good. ” he'll bite.
“my, my, aren't we assumin' things a little prematurely?” she levels him a look of mock offence before taking his outstretched hand. “not that i got anythin' against cocktails, but i ain't one for much sugar in my drinks, sugar.” she laughs a bit before getting to her feet and leading him to the bar, or at least the corner of it, a spot still half hidden in shadow. “i'm a simple girl, sometimes a good rum is all i need.” it's exactly what she orders when the bartender comes around. she specifies the el dorado, aged 12 years, on the rocks. “you tell me if this is to your tastes. if not, i hope you're brave enough to try the valentine's roulette with me.”
eleventh is fucking brutal. the worst of the worst, only beat maybe by the torture of placing second : almost top ten. almost, almost, almost. the sight of sloane ignites something petty inside her. she takes the cupcake, plucks out the candle and throws it at the other. it lands with a thud at sloane's feet, failed throw mocking tem just like the failure of a race. her pout is in full force. " thank you. " begrudgingly, because her dad taught her some manners, and 'cause a part of her still likes the cowgirl despite the lines drawn in the sand. cupcake's gone in seconds, one angry bite after the other. it was delicious. damn you, nariza baking skills ! " i almost had 10th. you believe me, right ? "
should she be honest? reveal the fact that she'd already looked away from the finish line by the time the third car sped past? she'd already started cheering by then, grabbing whoever was closest and jumping around like a woman possessed. she hadn't waited long enough to see tem finish. probably best not to voice that part. “i believe you,” she doesn't know enough to claim tem's lying anyway.
hey, i'd still trust your expertise over anyone else's. nobody else impressed me enough to have 'em teach me.” which is only a little bit of a white lie.
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there was undeniably a certain sort of rush to knowing that she contributed to a win, that, quite literally, she had a hand in getting that car across the finish line. it feels like the sort of thing she's not allowed to admit out loud though, lest she invoke any ire from any of the racers. it's true after all, that she's not the one behind the wheel at the end of the day. doesn't matter if she put the wheel there or not. it's fortunate that she doesn't have to worry about this with suah, who probably understands the work she does more than most.
“now, when you say you wanna treat me, what exactly should i be expectin'?”
there's something oddly intoxicating about having influence over someone, like sloane could steer this in whatever direction she wants. she leans into nova's space with a conspiratorial little grin. “now, i don't wanna cloud your judgement too much, but if i were you i'd stay far away from her.” she jerks her head towards where mirae's just walked by. “she'll take your head off for any lil thing. other'n that, you've got nothin' to worry about here.”
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