(OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN, CIS MALE, HE/HIM) Oh, is that ROWAN SCOTT? I heard the THIRTY-FOUR year old is LOYAL. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also SULLEN. Makes sense seeing how they are an ENFORCER in the GHOST RIDERS gang.
INFORMATION
name: rowan scott
nickname: ro (close friends only)
gender / pronouns: cis-male, he / him
date of birth: december 27 (34)
zodiac: capricorn
traits: loyal, sullen, solitary, reckless, broken
hometown: new york city, new york
sexuality: heterosexual
status: single (widowed)
occupation: ghost rider's enforcer / owner of scott's salvage
face claim: oliver jackson-cohen
height: 6'5
tattoos: scattered across his arms and torso
scars: different ones on his hands and legs from work
TW: mentions of death of wife & child, car wreck, violence, and illegal substances
HISTORY
Rowan grew up in a normal lower middle class family. His father always seemed to be working, and Ro found himself at the salvage yard with him. He knew his way around the junk better than anyone and could find almost anything that someone was looking for as long as they described it to him. Most of the time he was written off since he was a child, but his dad would keep encouraging him to try to help.
High school wasn't the best time for him. Rowan's jokes weren't always as funny to everyone else as they were to him. He didn't take anything seriously, and he often struggled with classes that required more of him than he could give. It was no surprise when the only classes that he made decent grades in were welding and shop. He graduated, and within a few months he started driving a truck to make a living.
Rowan knew he would take over the salvage yard at some point from his father, but he wanted to see more before he did. On one of his trips, he met a woman named Mariah. He didn't get her phone number or think he would ever see her again, but on his next trip two months later, he ran into her again. The connection was strong, and they started dating. After six months of dating, they were engaged and she moved to New York for him.
They married when Rowan was twenty-four, and he took over the salvage yard the next year. He needed to be home more for his wife and the new "club" he had joined, The Ghost Riders. He split his time between the two and settled into his new life at home. After being married for two years, they welcomed a son into their life named Grayson. Ro was excited to be able to carry on the tradition of having his son around the yard with him.
Rowan and Mariah had plans to have another child at some point, but that chance was taken from them three years ago when he had to work late at the yard. They were going to have dinner with his parents, and he told her to take his car, and he would be there later He was told she lost control of the car, but he had his suspicions that something else happened. He couldn't prove it, but it was something that continues to haunt him. He isn't over their deaths, but he has put everything into the Ghost Riders. He uses the Salvage Yard to help them however he can, including being a front for anything stolen and selling illegal substances.
Zak knew this wasn't exactly comfortable for him, he remembered that day very well. It was heartbreaking losing them both. They were all really close. Sophia and Grayson spent a lot of time together, they were basically best friends, not that they had a choice. "Fair." He wouldn't hold it against him, he understood. "What do you have for me?"
Rowan needed to figure out a lot of things, but he could use the mess at the carnival as a good excuse for now. He needed to focus on other things while Zak worried about what mattered most. He nodded and leaned against the wall. "A Society member was found dead. Adeline, I think? The other names haven't been released. Few of ours are hurt, but we have them being looked after. We got it all handled, so you don't have to think about it."
Location: St. John's Hospital
Status: Open @sinnerssquarestart
"Hey, thanks for coming." Zak greeted them with a smile. "How are you holding up?" The events of last night were not favorable, "The babies are okay, they are a little early, a bit small but they are doing good." He said with a smile, he felt bad for being so happy right now, everyone else was suffering and this was the greatest night of his life in some aspects. "Do you wanna see them?"
Rowan nodded at the greeting and kept his arms crossed. He hated hospitals. They only reminded him of one thing, and he didn't want to think about that right now. "I'm fine." He was a little banged up, but nothing he couldn't look after himself. The cut across his cheek had already been covered with a band-aid a nurse handed him when he walked in. "That's good." He had heard the news, but he didn't want anything more to do with it. He shook his head. "No. Too much to do. Wanted to tell you what we know before I head back out."
Willem would never claim to be purview to Rowan's true emotional state, but perhaps he recognized the ghost of memories in his eyes - as it was a look he himself mirrored as he took in the happy festivities around them.
The excruciating difference however was Rowan's family were lost to him forever by a terrible twist of fate ( whereas Willem's had no one else to blame but his own ruinous actions. )
"2 more hours, I'm afraid." Willem answered instead, everything left unspoken laying heavily on his chest. "Perhaps an arrow will veer off its intended course and hit us. Granted, they're too dull to cause any damage, but maybe we can cry injury as an excuse to leave."
Rowan could feel his mood dropping the longer he was in attendance at the carnival. He needed a cigarette as soon as he got away from the booth and maybe a drink too. "This shit lasts forever." He sighed and look at the line that was waiting their turn at the booth. "Don't know if that's worth the shit the rest of them will give you for getting hurt from this shit." He shook his head and looked over at Willem. "You know they'd never let you live it down."
for: ghost riders & society only (cap 2 or 3) @sinnerssquarestart
location: anywhere at the carnival
Jason was posted up beside his fellow comrade in arms, forearms folded tightly across his chest as his blues scanned the perimeter of the carnival. His guard was up, that was for damn sure. It had to be. With everything that went down at the Clubhouse and with traitors infiltrating their way behind enemy lines there was no other choice. The MC couldn't afford anymore mishaps, and the last thing they needed was a reenactment of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre on their hands. Not when so many loved ones were in attendance.
Never turning his head, Jason kept his stare fixed on the festivities unfolding in front of him. His features were pulled into an equally as stoic scowl as he asked the person beside him. “Anythin’ lookin’ off to you?”
Rowan had been glad when he'd found Jason at the edge of the carnival. He didn't want to be the middle of it, and it made more sense for him to be observing. There was nothing for him here, and he didn't care to look at the carnival more than he had to. He'd be in attendance and keep people protected, but he didn't have any interest in more than that.
"Nope. Not unless you count how fucking cheesy all this shit is. I can't believe people still go for this kind of thing." His wife had loved things like this, but that was one of the reasons it was hard to be there. "What about you?"
This was not how he wanted to spend his Saturday. Rowan had plenty of other places he would rather be than working a booth at some silly carnival. Memories of his family kept entering his head as he watched the couples walk past. He leaned against the side of the booth and shook his head. "How much longer is this thing going?"
EVEN IF OXANA HAD been amongst the ghost riders since before she even entered her twenties -- much of it spent in seduction's walls, she wasn't super familiar with the building's history. there was the back room, of course. that's where privacy was needed. not that she planned on bringing that up, considering the way she had been gutting the place. the girls had the choice to take part. " sometimes i'm curious, but then sometimes i think i'm getting too curious. " oxana laughs, shaking her head. " i've been improving it. security watches the cameras -- but i also had a panic switchboard installed here too so one of us can step in as quick as she can. " she had been dancing here until recently, therefore, in this changing of the gaurd she had asked herself one question: what would she have wanted a couple of years ago? " that's not a bad suggestion. but then again, it's my goddamn fault for wearing heels to the club. i wouldn't be caught dead here in sneakers. " she had an energy to exude, after all. she can't lie, rowan had been on her mind -- she was worried about him. very few people knew the loss he had experienced, but she knew the last thing he wanted was pity. not that this was what she felt. far from it, actually. " you may not want it, but you deserve it. " oxana gives him a gentle nudge. she knows the feeling, considering she once was the same way. quiet, sullen, keeping to herself. with her moving up to vice president -- zak looked to her for choices like this. a trusted opinion. " we're glad to have you. i mean it. "
"I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to know what the fuck is going on in here. I don't let shit slide at the yard. I figure it's kind of the same." Rowan knew it was different. Dealing with cars was one thing, dealing with people was another. He had no desire to manage more people than he had to. He kept the workers at the yard to a minimum for that reason. "That better go to Security before it goes to you. You got no business getting in the middle of shit right now." No one would hear the end of it if she got hurt, and he wouldn't blame Zak for the hell he would unleash either. "What the fuck are you doing wearing heels anyway? Wear boots or something if you don't want to put on sneakers, but you shouldn't be making yourself more uncomfortable." He didn't have a lot of experience with pregnant women, but he had enough to know there was no reason to make it worse. "No. I don't." He left it at that. He still felt the guilt of not being at the clubhouse on time at Christmas. Maybe if he had been there things would have been different. "Fuck off with that sappy shit, or I'm gonna head out. I was only stopping in to see how you were doing anyway."
"That's definitely not boring to me. I've spent my entire life playing around with cars and bikes, ripping them apart, building them, fixing them up." It was one of the things Blake was most passionate about although it had always only been a hobby. "You might actually have just become one of the most interesting people I've spoken to today, tell me more."
Rowan looked at her and didn't bother to hide the surprise on his face. Most people didn't know much about their cars. It was always surprising to run into someone who knew how to do basic maintenance, but the only people he met that could do more than that were employed at the garage. "I own the salvage yard. That's pretty much all I do."
The early mornings that Asher had to open his mother's restaurant to let her go to a few doctor appointments, take Maddie out for mother and daughter time - those mornings were always so hectic, but Asher was glad to do it. He knew how hard his mother worked, and she deserved to have time with Maddie, and time for herself. The italian restaurant didn't open until lunch time, but there was a lot of prep to do, and so Asher had texted Rowan to come over to grab a bite at the restaurant. When Asher saw him pull up, he smirked, already grabbing a coffee pot to fill up a cup. "Yo, welcome. You ever been here? My mom's real proud of it - thought I'd invite ya over. Coffee?"
Rowan pulled up to the restaurant and parked his bike off to the side. He never liked to draw more attention than he did. He checked his phone one last time before he pulled open the door and walked inside. He nodded a greeting as he looked around. "Nah. Can't say I have. She do good business?" It was a nice place. She had to do good to stay in business in New York. "Yeah coffee's good. Black. I don't need anything in it. You good?"
location: abandoned gas station, golden hour
closed starter ( @rowanxxscott)
The golden hour stretched long over the abandoned gas station, painting everything in amber and shadow, but there wasn’t a damn thing warm about the scene unfolding. Dust swirled in the light filtering through shattered windows, catching on the edges of broken shelves and rusted-out coolers. The whole place smelled of old oil and dried gasoline—fitting, considering the tension sparking in the air, ready to ignite.
Hero wasn’t sitting anymore. He was moving—fast, fluid, the crack of knuckles against bone cutting sharp through the stillness. Some guy staggered back, spitting blood onto the cracked tile, but Hero didn’t give him a second to breathe. He lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of the bastard’s jacket, and drove him straight into a rusted-out shelf. Metal groaned, bottles crashed to the floor, and somewhere behind him, another dumbass tried to get brave.
A flick of motion, a shift in the air—Hero pivoted just in time to duck the wild swing, answering with a sharp uppercut that sent the guy reeling. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, already glancing toward the next idiot looking to test him.
Then—another set of footsteps. Steady, deliberate. Not like the scuffling, not like someone stumbling around lookin’ for a cheap shot.
Hero didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
"Damn, Rowan," he drawled, dragging a hand across his jaw, smearing blood—his or theirs, who knew. He spat onto the floor, smirking as he finally looked over. "Didn’t think you’d show up just to ruin my fun."
Rowan looked at the outside of the gas station and shook his head as he pulled his helmet off. At least there wouldn't be much to clean up from the trashed place. No need to pass bills to an owner to look the other way for damages or whatever else managed to get trashed.
He could hear the commotion from inside as he approached the open door. He wasn't surprised by it. He nudged the door further with the toe of his boot and looked inside at the number of bodies. Not too many, but enough that he felt the need to step in. He never liked to see anyone else in an uneven fight. It was different when it was him.
He moved inside and headed toward the familiar face with a laugh as he looked at the mess around him. "You should know by now that's what I'm good at. Who the fuck are these assholes?"
Perhaps Isabel was a little reckless, or perhaps she trusted people just a little too much; it could have easily been either at this point, but she did not care. Right now, all the girl cared for was a good shot, and whilst the ones she had taken were decent, she was trying to bargain for a really, really good shot. And failing, apparently.
“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” The brunette shrugged, a small, polite smile still remaining on her face. It helped her more often than not, looking less intimidating often meant that people weren’t so closed off and defensive. Perhaps not in this case, but she was still willing to try. “I promise, I haven’t taken anything weird, just, that – the lights and the shadows are really portraying the ambience of this place well. I think it’s doing the same to you too, and it’s just looking really good. It’d be a shame to miss it.” She tried nevertheless, his next question throwing her off. Had she stepped into something that should’ve required her to be more cautious. “The law? No, absolutely not! I don’t think the cops would be wandering around random places with cameras. I'm Isabel, I'm just - I'd say I'm a photographer, but that takes skill and dedication I don't yet have.”
Rowan looked around at the heaps of junk and shook his head. He wouldn't call any of it treasure, but everyone had an opinion. Some of the cars had been good enough before they ended up in his hands, but it was a death sentence for anything that rolled in on wheels other than the Ghost Riders' bikes.
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her as she spoke. Most people thought the yard was a nightmare after dark. The only reason he liked it was because of the memories that hung around it. "You taking pictures of old run-down cars is weird enough." Maybe he was being hard on her, but there was enough things on the lot she didn't need to get near. "Cops do shit like that all the time. They never need a reason to hassle someone." He didn't trust any of them, and he didn't want to be around any of them either. "Well, Isabel, if you aren't a photographer, then why are you here?"
"Yeah, I will." Jason nodded, handing over the ring box. To him, there was no place safer than with Rowan at the yard. Jason turned next to get a good look at the room that would forever be haunted and clapped a hand to Rowan's shoulder in agreement. "Nah, man. Never." He let the moment stretched before pulling duffle bag over his shoulder. "But I'll hit you up. There's some scrum we gotta take care of."
Rowan felt the weight in his jacket from the added box. It wasn't heavy, but the idea of it was. He wasn't surprised at Zak's thinking. He nodded and kept his eyes on the room before looking back at Jason. "Yeah you know how to find me. I need to grab some things from here, but I'll let you know when I get back to the yard." His hand patted his pocket as he referenced the ring. "Tell Mama Wolfe I said hello."
Brooklyn thought about it a lot, especially recently. What she wanted for her life. Her first step was improving her education, setting herself up for success and the next was to get out of stripping. "I'm not sure that's what I want really. I know the club is moving in a better direction with our leadership but I'm not much of a leader anyway." She had no ambitions to do so, her interests were elsewhere. "I mean exactly what I said we need a few rounds of drinks and to break some jaws. As for people on my shit list, I'm pretty sure Jason took care of them, only the top dog remains but Moretti is pretty untouchable. But I'll take a punching bag. We can get some anger out. I know a place."
Rowan wrapped his hand around the drink and let his eyes move from Brooklyn to the rest of the bar before moving back to her. He didn't know what she meant by it, but they all had their own journeys to figure out. "You don't have to lead because you're moving up. It's only taking on more responsibility." He knew he wasn't the best one to suggest it. It had taken him almost ten years to move into any role, and he only did it because of Zak. "Maybe another time. Not interested in it tonight."
FRANKLY, WHILE OXANA IS delighted by their boom in business after their grand re-opening, she could feel the active lifestyle the job of owner and manager held taking a toll on her. frankly, the more time passed, she could feel a quadrant of presences checking in on her. circling her, as if expecting something to go wrong. zak. brooklyn. jason and rowan. it was never a bad thing, to feel like you had a sense of security, but oxana had always been so used to moving through life on her own. taking care of herself. but, she had a support system now. with its benefits, came the feeling that she was still learning how to get used to it. " you'd be surprised, rowan. whoever fucking built this place must have thought this was a brothel instead of a strip club. it may allow clients their privacy... but makes it impossible to hear anything. " eyes soon flicker over to a switchboard she had recently installed -- panic buttons. in case anything got out of hand, and they needed to get security involved. " i'm... doing as well as i can. incoming motherhood and strip club management aren't exactly going hand in hand. my feet fucking hurt. " oxana mutters, having slipped the heels from her feet the moment she entered the office. " where on earth have you been? it's almost as if you've been hiding since your promotion... which, i haven't been able to properly congratulate you. "
"Shit, I mean it sounds like that's what this place was." Rowan held up his hands innocently as he talked about the messages. He wasn't someone that spent his time at Seduction, and the news had been enough of a surprise to him. He didn't want to think about it, but he knew Oxana was someone that it was safe to be more open with about some things. "Don't you have cameras or something?" He knew the place had security, but it could always be better. There were enough people here that needed to be protected. "Make Zak rub 'em." He laughed and settled into the chair. He could remember his wife's similar complaints when she had been pregnant, but he tried not to think about it. No one needed that kind of reminder right now. "I've been working, and avoiding shit like that. I don't want a congratulations. You know I don't want someone making a fuss over me. There's always plenty to do at the yard, you know that."
"Well, you didn't want to go to the usual spot, and you're not happy about this place, so how about you tell me what it is you feel like so I can stop trying to guess at what might cheer you up." Evidently, Daniela didn't exactly like seeing the people around her anything but obviously happy in some sense - but it meant that if she was even a little unsure, she wouldn't really stop until she could be. "Oh, hell no. I'm not going on my own." A defiant look crossed her features, "This is your night, not mine."
"This place is fine. The music sucks." Rowan shrugged and took another drink of his beer. He shook his head and waved her off. "I don't need cheering up." He could hide his emotions when he needed to or mask them behind grumpiness. He looked over at her and then out at the dance floor. "If you wanna go, then go. Don't be scared. Who the hell would bother you in here?"
"Well I'm not ridin' around with my fuckin' eyes shut if that's whatyou're trying to say," Dylan retorts, his gaze following Rowan's to the bike - assessing it how he assumes the older Ghost Rider currently is. The prognosis isn't good, dents and scrapes mangling the bodywork, one tyre punctured and now limp against the gravel. "Okay well before you start gettin' all high and mighty, just let me say that it wasn't my fault. It's those fuckers at the department of transport not fixin' the roads. Huge pothole came outta nowhere."
"Considering what it looks like, I bet that's exactly what the fuck you were doing. Probably trying to show off for some ass, hmm?" Rowan saw it plenty with the younger boys. Always wanting to show off and not thinking about what happens once the bike was wrecked. Rowan whistled as he looked at the bike and shook his head. "I'm sure it did. Pay attention next time, and it wouldn't be outta nowhere." His words were meant to be taunting as he looked back at the car he was working on. "This won't be a one day fix. You got something else to drive?"
