TennesseeTurner: forum

No peaceful for long...

the sound of a switchblade unsheathing from behind a dumpster

Whats the family name? I told you before, but I want everyone to know here that I call being the crazy Aunt lol

A one way highway! No chance turning around! Once you're on YOU'RE ON ALL THE WAY DOWN MWAHAHAHAAAA!

thunder crashes 

I put in my cloak and wizard hat

The door didn't even stand a f**ken chance. 

the sound of a 240lb 6'4" act of pure survival instinct partializing pure pinewood and cherry

Funda Wolpertinger didn't mean to make such a grand entrance, but it was a matter of importance as time was of the essence. The many pieces of the door made peace with their entropy by settling across the decorative rug and mahogany wood flooring. She caught herself on the edge of the door coming into the light. Her faded blue collard shirt drenched in sweat hangs open to show the source as her clear pale skin glistens off the low light. She would practically be shining if it wasn't for the four inch blade currently impaled in her f**ken ribcage. 

"I need a drink" her labored gaze met The Broker with an uneasy sense of determination considering the situation. Her breath is shallow as she makes her way to the chair in front of the desk. It almost gives the same way as the door when she shifts to grab her pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. Her flip lighter illuminates her strong feminine features framed by brown bangs and a loose ponytail as her scabbed and bleeding fingertips coat everything they touch in iron. She took a deeper inhale than she should have. "but that's not why I'm here."

she exhaled and coughed up blood.

"I am recently unemployed" she looks down at her intrusive protrusion and looks back up at Elara, "and I'd like to prevent any gaps in my resume." She winces and shifts in her seat. 

"In the haste of my previous employer giving me my severance package they neglected to force me to sign an NDA." Her German accent was only at the corners of her mid-Atlantic accent, giving it just a bit of bite to her blunt presence. 

Another cool drag. This one isn't as violent exhales. "I'm looking for employment by an employer who is loyal and appreciates a hardworking employee. I'm a real team player, and I always finish the job." She forced out of her lungs like punctured bellows to emphasize the weight of her words. 

"Cut me a slice you think would be fair for the job. I've no want for material possession." she ashes after this drag by flicking her thumb over a near by ashtray. "What do you say? Fair proposition, or am I going to need a second interview?" She coldly jested. The only hint she was joking was her face lighting the room more than it did before. 

Name: Syn'thea Reihart

Age: 122 

Race: High Elf

Occupation: Imperial Princess 

Though she was the Eldest Daughter to Emperor Reihart, Princess Thea's baby brother was next in line for the throne. However, that was a ways off. She used the opportunity to develop into a Philanthropist by day and a Reveller in the evenings. She grew up seeing the greatness in every being. From Ork To Elf, everyone's soul carries its own flame. The connection between them all tingles with an electricity that she seeks out in one way or another. There is life everywhere, and The Princess rejoices in the abundance. 

It was here where she was invited to Emberfall by The Duke, Nolan Quinn, to stay a fortnight with his family at their estate. They were to throw a ball before they lost The Duke, and now The Princess has been providing council to her concerned subjects in the wake of his absence. It has been months now since she arrived, and her father has still not sent aid. It took some convincing for Captain Kiels to let her stay in Emberfall. Her argument was on the side of the remaining citizens within the city walls and if her return would incentivize her father to do something about The Crown Jewel of the Jorellian Empire. 

"I've still hope for us yet, Lieutenant." She spoke with reverence as they both watched Captain Kiels lead the group back to Argill from inside the broken wall of Emberfall. "Surely the breeze will pick up and stoke the flames of this once proud city." She turned to him in the plaza with a somber twinkle in her eye, as she wasn't letting her fate get to her. "We could take the remaining citizens to a secure location and hold out defenses. Emberfall is not lost." Her tone is dead pan as a single tear forms in her left tear duct and rolls down her pale cheek. "The Wardwatchers will protect us." Her delicate hand fell gently on his mail, desperately trying to ground herself. Her long, black hair billowed out in thick elegant waves and bounced with her movement. "I'm sure of it, Armen" 

She stood a bit tall from him, but in her golden laced heels made her tower over everyone. She liked that she stood out in her long elvish dresses as an enthusiastic beacon of hope and prosperity. However, she was having a hard time keeping a composed look in her muted purple eyes and soft yet angular features. If it wasn't for the man she'd come to have met over the course of her stay in the city and the dagger she kept hidden under the white silk and lace dress, Thea would be reduced to tears. Not even The Emperor, her very own father, Has answered her messages leaving her to wonder what could be going on back at the capital. Could they be the only city left?  

Tennesee watches in silence as all the commotion, makes a wide eyed face inward, and finishes her drink

She rubs her wrists where the restraints were bound and watches as the two armed guards leave the room. When she turns back around she sees a pistol being placed at the center of the desk opposite the admiral as if to either show that it could be used by either of them at any given time during the conversation. An honest gesture that serves as an ominous acknowledgement of the nature of humanity. If she were the young ensign she used to be she would have felt cornered and would have likely have gone for it, but something in her experienced gut told her that the admiral was nothing like Captain Wilford. 

"I extend my gratitude for your hospitality, sir, and I fully intend to pay it by providing nothing but the truth of my account on what happened on board The Nightengale." She takes her seat. "When I woke up this morning, I was hailed down to the main hangar. We were scheduled to leave that sector of space and head back to New Haven only an hour prior to Captain Wilford's interruption. I had assumed he only wanted to perform an inspection of our crew, passenger and cargo manifests. However, after escorting the captain to the bridge I was met with accusations which may have been true to the little information he had on my late payments, but unbeknownst to Wilford I had made arrangements to pay once we made contact with New Haven Station. I have contacts who have made a verbal contract with me to pay the debt in full. It was impossible to wire the credits from how deep in space we were. This is how we've always conducted our business for this annual trip."

Shifting in her chair, the next thought makes her feel a sense of unease. "We complied with all of Captain Wilford's demands, but he still ordered the execution of passengers and crew some of which where higher status than Wilford himself. I do admit that I may have let my temper boil over with my words, but whatever respect I had for my fellow officer was gone in that moment." Her broken eye contact and body language showing a reverie of anger and regret. "Whatever the consequences I am will to accept them. I just hope the passengers and crew are spared to only bear the burden of grief and loss." 

Why is there three pedals?

"f**k this is a manual." She pauses for a moment of unfamiliarity and calculates her next few movements in her head. She depresses her left foot to the floorboard and turns the ignition. Placing her foot on the breaks, she puts the truck in 1st gear and let's off the clutch completely. 

Grrrch. 

Shit. 

She puts her foot back on the clutch and gives Blackfinger a nervous chuckle. Letting her foot off the break the rig finally starts moving. She gives it a little gas and slowly let's off the clutch this time. She successfully shifts to second, then third. Eventually getting the hang of the bigger vehical than she is used to driving as they steadily make their way onto the cracked pavement. 

Vorpaldork has a campaign idea he's trying to get off the ground. I'm still working my character sheet atm. 

https://www.torn.com/forums.php#/p=threads&f=7&t=16420824&b=0&a=0

"Why don't we just burn them out now? Why with all this waiting?! It makes us look soft. Might as well just give them our turf now. Father would roll in his grave to hear this news. I sure hope you've something... explosive lined up when those filthy Amirs eventually don't get the hint. Otherwise I'll have to get dirty, and I've just had my hair done which will only piss me off more!

"Oh man! We're passing through Vegas! Hahaa! No doubt it's still a raider invested shithole. Be prepared for some resistance, Boys. Hope we have enough ammo." She climbs up into the driverseat and dons her leather jacket, tightening her driving gloves. 

Being handed the envelope she paws it over as if trying to see what's inside without opening it. "Who's this associate of yours, gramps? How do I know I'm handing this off to the right guy, nd how are we communicating out there anyway? Be nice to know if someone sees something they can say something."

I think it's kinda neat they're separate. It's like they have their turf and we have ours! I wanna go over there and raise hell

Name: Evangeline Verado

Age: 40 something. What's it to ya?

Relation: Older sister to The Don. 

Appearance: Tall and slender with slightly aged olive skin. Curly salt and pepper hair touches her shoulders and parts to the right framing a gorgeous visage of dark brown eyes and claret painted lips. A strong family nose and a pointed chin finishes her face. 

Attitude: Psychotic, medicated, and quick to fly off the handle, a man eater, focused on making money and watching things burn, loyal to the family and no one else. "yeah so I got a f**ken attitude. Stop asking so many god damn questions if you like having fingers, capiche?!"

Eva stands in the corner of the room with her arms folded. She's dressed in a white pinstripe blouse French tucked into tight fitting chinos held up with black leather suspenders. Black leather open toed stelleto heels make her tall frame even taller and a dark brown designer mink coat cover her shoulders and reach the floor. 

"What's with the f**ken formalities? Clock's tickin', little brother, paper ain't gonna make itself!" 

Her head swiftly flew over to the shatter of glass. A point had been made. Better here than on the road. She stopped what she was doing and made for the torch one more time. 

"As good with a cutter as you are with your threads there Cowboy?" She playfully hit him in the chest with a mask and a grin "seems like the old girl needs more work before we saddle and skedaddle. Grab a can and follow me will ya?" She wheels a can away from him, squeaking her welding hood onto the top of her pink greasy hair. 

On one side of the bay lay a scrap heap. With her welding hood down she cuts some pieces to size off of an old and rusted out Chevy, half of a Plymouth, and a few pieces off the bed of a seized up Ford. Not big pieces, but the steel was still good.

The metal slats clang on the ground by the hood of the truck in a mound of rust. She artfully tacks each piece one by one, climbing back up and down with each slice.  

You're saying a lot of new phrases mixed with familiarity and I got to say it's got me enticingly intrigued 

The worn wooden finish complimented her bright red claws. The tarnished, ornate engravings in the metal glinted off the rays of light that shone through the rusted holes of the hanger. The weapon was old, that was for certain, but she was unable to ascertain a close estimate of exactly how old it was. 

"Well oiled and maintained. Better than the one I scaved off some raiders I tourtured that didn't need it anymore. You take care of her for sure." She finished, handing back Lucille. "She mean anything to you, stranger? Family heirloom or something? Looking to trade?" 

The roughly carved handle of her own double barrel sticking out of her holster strapped to her thigh. Hardly an appealing offer, but the look on her face was nievely hopeful

Pfft I totally have, but let's say I haven't. What's it about?

"Only kiss the homies goodnight" - another guy

"Four seats on the bus still open, Boys. Just take your pick and try to hold on."She stands there, arms crossed with her trademark sadistic grin. Her hazel iris scaning the two, admiring the cowboys outfit for a moment.

A slit furrowed brow meets the eyes of the shiny head newcomer. Her eyes fix themselves to his sawn off. "You've got a scatter gun too I see. Mind if I check her out? She looks ancient." 

This bastard can take more lead than you can afford...

Gazing into the bubbles, her thoughts lingered on what she had just heard. Maybe leaving the TV set on all day to drown out the noise of the tenants down the hall in her apartment was getting to her. His conviction in his words remained present at the forefront of her mind most of all. How can someone speak of something so outlandish with such confidence unless those words were true? She rescinded, if only for the moment. 

"He can alter his appearance at will, huh?" She repeated, holding the glass now in her hand. "Really can't trust anyone in this f**ken town." She says to herself before tossing back the last of the champagne. 

Whats the family name? I told you before, but I want everyone to know here that I call being the crazy Aunt lol

Awe man! Totally!

bada bing

His point was punctuated by his discard of the weapon. Her understanding made poignant by the way she threw her hand down on it to keep it from sliding down the bar. When he reached for his blade her hand grasped the firearm and pulled the hammer back, ready for anything. She decocked it as her company stood and turned to leave. She wasn't going to stop him. She knew there was nothing she could say in the moment anyway. Instead, she thanked him, "thanks for the drink and the company, Alex. I hope you get your man and our paths will cross once again someday," and she wished him luck.