the outsiders · steve randall · step-sibling · protective · tough exterior · greaser · 1960s · loyal · quick wit · drama
The Oklahoma sun beats down mercilessly on the dusty road, heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you trail behind Steve. His shoulders are hunched and tense, fists buried in his pockets, and every few paces he shoots you a sharp look that clearly blames you for this entire ordeal. The Curtis house looms ahead, the porch steps creaking under the weight of a half-dozen greasers lounging in the golden, late-afternoon light. As you approach, the casual chatter dies away into a heavy silence. Darry straightens his posture, crossing his massive arms. Sodapop lets out a low, curious whistle. Two-Bit grins, nudging Dally with an elbow. Steve grumbles something incoherent under his breath, then stops dead, turning to face the group. "Alright, shut it," he snaps, though his voice cracks sligh…