Post by Racetrack on Aug 4, 2011 8:45:23 GMT -5
Name: Anthony "Tony" Higgins
NN (if applicable): Racetrack ("Race")
Age: 17
Date and place of birth: June 12, 1882; Brooklyn
Personality: Guess you could say I've got a smart mouth. Jack says it at least ten times a day, but he owes me eight bucks and change, so what's his word worth, really? I know all the tricks of poker, blackjack, faro, and craps, and I can win without using any of 'em. I can tell you the odds on any horse at the tracks, but the horses like to change 'em up...every damn race. *grins ruefully* Anyway, I like a little excitement in life--taking risks, betting on longshots. I'm loyal to my friends, and I expect the same of them; only thing I can't stand is a traitor. *mutters something about Cowboy* But mostly, I'm just a laidback, friendly, fun-loving guy...who will win all your money. All of it. With no regrets. *winks cheerfully*
Hobbies and interests: Think I already covered this pretty well--any game with cards, dice, and financial stakes, though poker's my specialty, and laying bets on horses at Sheepshead Bay. Also, you'll never really see me without a cigar, and I do some piping on the harmonica now'n then.
Bad habits, criminal record, etc: I go to wolf traps, whadda you expect? *smirks at your confusion* That's a low-class kinda gambling den. The games are honest there 'cause everyone knows that one false move gets you a knife in the back. I've mixed with some types that the bulls would sooner hang on sight than put on trial, but I never did worse than a bit of cheating and unlicensed gaming. *pause* Or, you know a lot. Also, I ain't exactly careful with money. And I can't keep my mouth shut to save my life. Literally. But that's about it!
Employment: It's a vicious cycle. Papes and cards, cards and dice, dice and horses, horses and papes.
Background info (please include family as well): Well, I grew up in Brooklyn, but cholera took both my parents and my little brother when I was about seven. I got sent to a Catholic orphanage, but what with the small size and the big mouth, I wasn't gonna last long. Then this older guy kinda took me under his wing--taught me all manner of cards and dice, and we used to sneak off to the tracks to see the horses run. But one day, we got caught, and they sent my friend to the Refuge for gambling and 'corrupting a younger child.' I got off with a warning, but the orphanage wasn't looking too hospitable no more, so I ran off.
Well, I made a bit of a name for myself, whipping guys three times my age at poker, and that kept me from going hungry. But one day, a couple of guys caught me being...not entirely honest with the cards (I was young! Hadn't perfected my skills yet!), and they dragged me into an alley, and I figured I was done for. Then this other scrawny, smart-aleck kid came outta nowhere and started shooting stones from a slingshot...well, that's how I met Spot Conlon. He took me back to that lodging house of his, and we were friends and Brooklyn newsies for the next six years or so. Finally, Spot went through some dark times or something--damned if I know--anyway, he got kinda cold and scary and hard to live with, and we had a fight or two, and I took off. Been with Cowboy here in Manhattan ever since, hanging around with Mush and Blink, mostly. But I know I can still call in a favor in Brooklyn, should I ever need to.
~~~~
OOC
Name/NN: Emily/Flare
Email: FlareHiggins@yahoo.com
NN (if applicable): Racetrack ("Race")
Age: 17
Date and place of birth: June 12, 1882; Brooklyn
Personality: Guess you could say I've got a smart mouth. Jack says it at least ten times a day, but he owes me eight bucks and change, so what's his word worth, really? I know all the tricks of poker, blackjack, faro, and craps, and I can win without using any of 'em. I can tell you the odds on any horse at the tracks, but the horses like to change 'em up...every damn race. *grins ruefully* Anyway, I like a little excitement in life--taking risks, betting on longshots. I'm loyal to my friends, and I expect the same of them; only thing I can't stand is a traitor. *mutters something about Cowboy* But mostly, I'm just a laidback, friendly, fun-loving guy...who will win all your money. All of it. With no regrets. *winks cheerfully*
Hobbies and interests: Think I already covered this pretty well--any game with cards, dice, and financial stakes, though poker's my specialty, and laying bets on horses at Sheepshead Bay. Also, you'll never really see me without a cigar, and I do some piping on the harmonica now'n then.
Bad habits, criminal record, etc: I go to wolf traps, whadda you expect? *smirks at your confusion* That's a low-class kinda gambling den. The games are honest there 'cause everyone knows that one false move gets you a knife in the back. I've mixed with some types that the bulls would sooner hang on sight than put on trial, but I never did worse than a bit of cheating and unlicensed gaming. *pause* Or, you know a lot. Also, I ain't exactly careful with money. And I can't keep my mouth shut to save my life. Literally. But that's about it!
Employment: It's a vicious cycle. Papes and cards, cards and dice, dice and horses, horses and papes.
Background info (please include family as well): Well, I grew up in Brooklyn, but cholera took both my parents and my little brother when I was about seven. I got sent to a Catholic orphanage, but what with the small size and the big mouth, I wasn't gonna last long. Then this older guy kinda took me under his wing--taught me all manner of cards and dice, and we used to sneak off to the tracks to see the horses run. But one day, we got caught, and they sent my friend to the Refuge for gambling and 'corrupting a younger child.' I got off with a warning, but the orphanage wasn't looking too hospitable no more, so I ran off.
Well, I made a bit of a name for myself, whipping guys three times my age at poker, and that kept me from going hungry. But one day, a couple of guys caught me being...not entirely honest with the cards (I was young! Hadn't perfected my skills yet!), and they dragged me into an alley, and I figured I was done for. Then this other scrawny, smart-aleck kid came outta nowhere and started shooting stones from a slingshot...well, that's how I met Spot Conlon. He took me back to that lodging house of his, and we were friends and Brooklyn newsies for the next six years or so. Finally, Spot went through some dark times or something--damned if I know--anyway, he got kinda cold and scary and hard to live with, and we had a fight or two, and I took off. Been with Cowboy here in Manhattan ever since, hanging around with Mush and Blink, mostly. But I know I can still call in a favor in Brooklyn, should I ever need to.
~~~~
OOC
Name/NN: Emily/Flare
Email: FlareHiggins@yahoo.com
