[ME] They call the thing a rodeo

COLT

A rodeo she had told Caido. An event to gather for, to momentarily cast off the worries of the world, at least for the day, and instead pit their strength against one another for a chance of glory, or look on at the thrill of it all and be entertained. 

The judges are filed away in their booth overlooking the large dirt arena, and wooden bleachers surround it with any number of folks streaming in for a view. On the outskirts, vendors have collected to peddle wares: trinkets and clothing, grilled meats and popped corn, sodas and beers, and any number of typical and marginally strange (like deep fried pickles) offerings. Fencing runs like a maze behind scenes, half-tamed horses tossing their heads impatiently, cattle lowing as their herds press and move between corrals and paths, the occasional shout from a ranch hand or the bark of a working dog. The sky has a slight overcast, not enough to dim the day, but it's a shield against the heat, although the humidity of it presses in a bit more uncomfortably for it.

Colt stands near the ranch entrance, decked out like a rodeo queen for the event. Her black button-down shirt is embroidered with yellow flowers and blue swirls across the yoke, tucked into pale jeans that glitter with rhinestones at the pockets, anchored by a large and gleaming belt buckle. Bright yellow chaps extend like sails around her legs, fringe rustling with every motion, painted floral cutouts adding color to the leather. Her show boots, bold and barely worn, peek through with colorful sides and polished silver-inlaid spurs. Her hair is curled at the ends, paired with some glam that's smoky around the eyes and bright red on her lips. Silver and sapphires shine whenever she laughs, light caught on the array of jewelry that trails her ears, neck, wrists, and fingers.

"Welcome to the rodeo!" she greets as everyone arrives, offering directions to the lost, explanations to the confused, and a knowing wink and a whisper of instruction to anyone she pulled aside for the main event that'll be later.  

---

Events in the arena will unfold in a loose NPC schedule of the following events: bronc riding, steer team roping, stick horse racing (kids), barrel racing, bull riding, and bull riding+.

The main event will be the bull riding+ which will occur as standalone threads between the bull+ and the rider. Each post=2 seconds. Your goal is to make it 8 seconds (4 rounds). I will roll for the bull+ and the rider after each of their rounds so please wait to see your roll before proceeding! Roll is based on some stats and what you do in your post to either buck the rider off, or to stay on. 

If you want to enter, please signify so in the bottom of your post. Bull riding+ will begin in 48 hours!
It will cost 100 MP to enter. You can be both a bull and a rider.

Whoever wins gets all the MP from the entrants and this item:
Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Basic
Lucky Buckle | A well-crafted belt buckle that, when worn, grants +3 luck. Must be included in all PQ/PQ+/KQ/DROP posts to be counted.

Wild horse out the gate
Yeah your heart about to break
She the type of woman that gon' make you lose control
She something wild, you might need a lasso

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

There are so many jokes Jack might make about bulls and riders that they almost seem redundant; and honestly, the only reason he's even drawn towards the rodeo in question is because the crew of The Ark have been talking - and thinking - about it non-stop for what feels like an entire season. More than half of them have already filtered inside, in fact, and if Colt likes the idea of a bunch of rowdy sailors getting drunk and cheering for shit they don't really understand, well, it's going to be a good time had by all.

For the captain's part, he appears in a loose linen shirt, half buttoned, a black cowboy hat procured from somewhere (best not to ask), and with a half empty bottle of whiskey tucked in the crook of his arm. "Howdy," he greets the rodeo queen on his way past, the word sounding as unnatural on his lips. Tossing her a lazy salute, he also heads towards the bleachers. "I'll be watchin' from a safe distance if it's all the same."

---

Jack is here to drink and to watch and to be entertained, and you're welcome.

If you live your life slowly, you live only half life;

What is a 'rodeo' except an outdoor party with fun hats? And Nova loves a party. 

She bounces through the stalls like a glittery cowgirl doll, a bedazzled white hat sparkling over the rainbow strands of her hair like it's a cluster of chandeliers that fell on her head. That's only the start of the outfit though. Her shirt is a tie-dye chaos of bright floral colors, a splash of rainbow that's tucked into the jeans below. The button-up sports a variety of star-shaped stitching and glittering beads sewn into the collar and sleeves. Then there's the things that she'd been told cowgirls wear: 'chaps.' She doesn't know the purpose, but they're an obnoxious pink with more star motifs in the cutouts and white beading, and she's a little annoyed that she hasn't thought to put tassels on more things. It's why she also wears a pink tasseled vest over her shirt, the final touch being a bright silver star on the breast (suspiciously similar to a sherrif's badge). 

Clicking her way through the establishment in her brand-new brown boots, Nova's pleasantly surprised to spot a familiar face in the crowd. Her face lights up, a shimmer of magic and excitement pulsing around her as she waves aggressively at the captain. "Hi Jack! Here to watch me win?" After all, losing isn't an option when looking this great.

---

Nova is entering! (Is anyone really surprised?)

Nova

if you live your life fast, you live five lives or ten lives or fifteen lives!

You can’t stop the change,

any more than you can stop the suns from setting.

(I really just want excuses to use his cowboy hat tables. XP)

He adjusted the brim of the hat to look at the overcast sky - and not the bulls stamping their hooves in a way that made him certain they were plotting something. Chuckling through the growing nerves, he offered Lena a dramatic wince. "Remind me again why I said I'd do this? I've never even ridden a horse let alone a bull - or whatever other creatures they have in mind." In fact, it was the first time he'd ever worn the hat she'd gotten him for its intended purpose, although it felt oddly right like he was meant to wear it. 

Still, the clothes don't make the man and the hat and boots didn't make him any more experienced riding animals, and Zavien was fairly certain he was about to find himself firmly on the ground. 

At least they'd have a chance to do something other than worry, and if he could give the people of King's End something fun to laugh at (other than Sol begging for food at every stand and stall), he was willing to be the rodeo clown. It was the reason his face brightened, a pleasant lack of seriousness to darken his features as he squeezed Lena's hand gently to draw her attention. "I think I need a kiss for good luck." He leaned forward, a playful grin on his face as he offered his cheek to her.

---

Zavien is entering the bull riding!

Zavien

Got a head full of spiders & a heart that isn't here

Vesper doesn’t arrive with fanfare—he rarely does—but there’s something in the slow confidence of his walk, the way the crowd parts just slightly as he weaves through the dust and noise, that makes him easy to clock even without the constellation freckles catching in the light.

Chambray shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. Fitted jeans and silver rings glinting on his fingers with that same cool smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he comes up alongside Jack and Nova.

"Y’dress like that an’ still expect anyone else to win?" he drawls low to his sister, letting his gaze drag down her chaotic patchwork of fringe and stars. His voice carries amusement, not doubt. Then, leaning in, he murmurs with mock seriousness, "So what’s the play, sheriff? Y’want me to throw it for the crowd or you want an actual challenge?"

He doesn’t wait for the answer. Just tips his head toward Colt across the way, the glitter of her chaps flashing like a beacon in the fray. "’Cause she already signed me up." His eyes flick toward the arena, toward the low bellow of restless bulls and the smell of heat and dust and adrenaline.

The grin he casts Nova is crooked, all brotherly provocation, before he straightens and nods once to Jack, the gesture lazy and silent.

---

Vesp is entering bullriding as a hormse.

VESPER

Styling stolen from Sky (obviously)

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

The rodeo has arrived – and Sunjata had spent much of the morning ensuring his old bones didn’t hurt, stretching out and preparing himself to be quite the exciting bull for the event that Colt as put on. So by the time he arrives, dressed in a sleeveless black shirt that reveals more tattoos and freckles and scars, he nods to those he knows as he approaches – stopping by Colt first to flash her a crooked smile and a touch to her shoulder. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Aka, let me know when and where to be and I’ll be there.

Though he doesn’t know Nova nor Vesper, not really, he does know Jack. And it’s with muted thoughts on Flora that he consciously hides (because he can at least do that for the Captain), that the Flood invites himself into their little group. He’s the Archon, after all. “Jack.” Comes the greeting, before an easy nod to Nova and Vesper. “Since when did you not wanna kick your heels into something?” He flashes a smirk, lopsided because of the scar.

To Vesper, Sunjata nods in agreement. “I’m in it too.” A version of Vesper with the added boon of wings to make it all that much more difficult. Even if he’d considered his hydra shift with multiple riders making their attempt to stay on each of his winding heads.

But the Pegasus had won out in the end. A shame.

---

Sunjata is entering as a Pegasus!

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

there exists a tipping point between gods and monsters

Nova arrives first, a blast of glittering chromatic thought drenched in sugar and cheer, such that with Vesper on her heels, even his presence alone is a necessary neutral chaser (though the captain does keep his mental shields down an inch or so these days when it comes to the young demigod). "Somethin' like that," he drawls, tipping Nova a wink and pouring a little of his whiskey into a glass he's procured, ice already frosting the edges of it in his hand.

"Oh, she did?" That's to Vesper, the captain's eyes flicking briefly to Colt before returning to him. "Wrapped around her little finger, ain't you?" And there's much, much more to be said there, as his limited thoughts suggest, but then oops, here's Sunjata.

Scoffing out a laugh and lifting it in a mock cheers to the Flood, Jack shoots back his whiskey. "Gave that up a while ago," he informs the other man, a smirk curling across his lips. "Enjoy bein' ridden though, both of you."

RONIN

the white knight

"So let me get this clear," Ronin is saying as they stroll into the rodeo, his fingers casually tangled with his husband's, "you were asked to participate in a rodeo as one of the bulls, and you thought it'd be fun to volunteer me along as well?" He's supposed to be sounding at least a little irked by it, but the amusement dancing in his eyes behind his sunglasses and the laughter threading through his voice utterly gives him away. "You know we could've just as easily ridden each other all afternoon, right?"

Leaning in to obnoxiously smooch Remi's cheek as if to banish any answer he might want to give, Ronin straightens up and offers a friendly nod to Colt as they breeze on by into the stands. "I'm not going to make this easy for anyone, you know," Ronin warns. "I've had a lot of pent-up energy after all the shit that's been happening, and I plan to make the most of it here since apparently I can't use it on you today."

---

 

Ronin is entering as a dragon!

i'll get over it
i just gotta be dramatic first

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Remi considers Ronin's question with all the gravity of a man deciding between life and death, gaze lifted toward the overcast sky as if seeking confirmation from Mort himself. Then, with a single, pointed nod, he glances back at Ronin over his shoulder, the boyish tilt of his head at odds with the mischief curling in the corners of his mouth. "Of course I did," he says, as though it’s the most natural conclusion in the world. "Besides, you wouldn’t have wanted me to have all the fun."

At Ronin’s comment, Remi’s grin sharpens. "Well, I thought we’d spice things up a little," he says as if they're about to engage in some swingers party rather than a rodeo. "And when LeafChange comes around, I think I’ll rather enjoy watching you suffer through the memory of someone else riding me like they mean it."

There’s laughter in his eyes as he turns, tugging Ronin closer by the front of his shirt, their fingers still tangled. "You’re welcome to take whatever you like out on me later," he murmurs against his husband’s ear, voice low and silk-wrapped. "But for now…"

He draws back with a wink and a flick of his hand toward the arena. "I believe we’ve got a few would-be cowboys to terrify."

---

Remi volunteers himself as Pixiu (winged lion) or KRAKEN.

and I said "only ever other memory"

Maea

If I could sing one last song

The excitement of the crowd was infectious, steadily raising her spirits until it seemed a shame to simply stay in the audience. Possibly she may have had a bit to drink, or it was the ridiculous nature of the contest - either way Maea signed up and busied herself with tying her hair up in a braid while checking out the competition. Nerves began to bubble up as she recognised more and more faces, several of which belonged to demi-gods and champions alike.

"Just have to hang on," she murmured to the wisp as Shii buzzed around her, equally as torn between anciety and excitement as she was. "It's only a game... no need to worry."

Right? Right.

Smiling and waving to friends and acquaintances when their eyes met, she inched ever closer to the fencing, so that she could watch the rounds before hers and get a glimpse of any strategies the riders were using.

---

Maea signs up as rider or bull (Feirw) as needed.

I'd make it a good one

Dantalion

but you can't be free

ROW-DEE-OH.

Danta has read the word over and over in his head as he approaches the arena, and it still makes very little sense to him. There are, evidently, still many things in the 'new world' left to surprise him, despite having been around now for literally years. "Do you suppose there will be fighting?" he wonders, casually leaning into Astaroth's side and raising his eyebrows at the sight of Colt in all her finery.

"I feel like no, based on the dress code." It's with a soft sigh that's almost disappointed that they step into the stands, Danta managing to snag a drink for them both without taking his hand out of the butcher's back pocket, which he considers his win for the day. Speaking of dress code, he's at least taken a note from those who had been milling in King's End for this and has opted for a Canadian tuxedo double denim paired with a white hat, which he thinks is as entertaining as it is dumb.

---

Danta is here to watch! Maybe he'll volunteer to ride if no one else does? Let's wait and see!

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// to the green lessons //

Lena had never heard of a rodeo, much less thought of participating in one. She came in wide eyed and still full of grace, listening to directions and groupings, things to watch and hasten towards – animals of all shapes and sizes looming or pending into certain upcoming characteristics and potentials.

Perhaps best of all was the ridiculous cowboy hat on Zavien ’s head though.

She knew he’d pull it off, snorting down something humorous and patting at his arm. “Well, if things go very badly, I have my staff,” to which she raised it – hoping to give him some sense of security. “And if it seems very off-putting, you don’t have to do it either.” She wished she had more advice for him – but she’d never seen such things either.

Rolling her eyes at his next suggestion, she nonetheless did exactly as described, placing both palms on his cheeks and bending him towards her, granting a good luck kiss. “Go get ‘em.”

--

Lena is watching and on standby for healing.

Lena

// of soft, simple quiet beneath the sun //

charlie

Charlie arrives like a spark struck to dry prairie grass—flashy, fast-burning, and impossible to ignore. Perched atop candy-apple-red boots with heels sharp enough to carve kindling, she’s draped in a barely-there tie-front blouse printed with gold flames and little devils that wink when the sun hits just right. Daisy Dukes ride high on her hips, all frayed hems and long, honey-gold legs that gleam in the humid heat. Her usual jewels glitter at her ears and collarbones—ruby hoops, a charm necklace that swings with every strut, and enough bangles to jingle like a windchime in heat. Her ruby horns are polished to a shine, her tail flicking lazily behind her, and she looks as if she’s just wandered off the cover of Cowgirls & Chaos Monthly. She surveys the scene with a slow, predatory smile, eyes catching on all the familiar faces and past flings like stars in a constellation of debauchery.

First, she spots Sunjata and Dantalion. "Hey youuu!" she calls sweetly to the Flood, voice like honey lit on fire. Her fingers flutter in a glittering wave, and she blows a kiss that could melt steel, first to him, then to Danta. Her attention snags next on Maea, who she blows a fiery kiss to that becomes a butterfly of fire.

Then her gaze slides, lazy and deliberate, to the one man who looks like he isn't here to have a good time at all. Slinking over with a hip-sway like it was invented for rodeos, Charlie sidles into Jack 's space with the practiced ease of a woman who’s danced around rejection and made it purr. Her tail flicks once, brushing lightly past the back of his calf—innocent and very much not.

She arrives just in time to catch the tail end of his exchange, and a sly grin curls her mouth. "Mmm," she purrs, licking a touch of sugar from her thumb, though there’s no snack in sight. "Now why aren’t you tossing your hat in to be ridden, Captain?" she asks, eyes gleaming as they rake slowly down and up his form, heat-laced and unrepentant.

---

Charles will ride!

oh I like my boys playin' hard to get
and I like my men all incompetent

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

ISKRA

It had not taken any convincing to talk Melita into going to the rodeo with him, which maybe suggests she's up to mischief and needs a wide array of victims, or is just her inclination to try out anything. It could be both in equal measure.

He's dressed the part as best he can manage, but since most of his attire is mountain man chic, he had to pick up a black cowboy hat just to tie it all together. He's got the jeans down, and boots, but they're not really cowboy style, but thankfully the pant legs cover most of that. He's also got a button up, plaid shirt, but it's less rodeo and more, woods somehow. He doesn't really understand fashion, but he fits in well enough to not be a complete embarrassment (at least not due to clothes).

As they step into the ranch, he busies himself collecting some drinks for them, and is definitely trying out the deep fried butter and pickle flavored hot dogs.

---

Iskra is here to watch!

Yippee-ki-yay