[align=center] [table] | trigger warnings alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion.
tags 45 years old, difficult/hard opponent, nonviolent interactions are open, pm or ask for violent interactions.
| [/table] "speech"'thought' text
Retro to punching Teddy.
It had been a long day that day. Though every day seemed to drag on longer than the one before. It was truly exhausting to the soldier. He sat in the casino, fingers arched as he played an old song. He didn’t need the music for it, it was ingrained in his head.
Accompanied by the piano, Mike sang the words. He threw back is head for the last verse, lost to the world in the melancholy of music. "Sing is a song, you’re the piano man. Sing us a song tonight. We’re all in the mood for a melody and you’ve got is feeling alright."
Finishing the musical accompaniment with a flourish. He let the notes of the piano fir out and grabbed his glass, taking a small sip of the golden liquid inside. He needed to stretch his hands out before he played another song.
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
[align=center] "Joel fan, eh?"
Most young people these days probably would dismiss songs like these as relics of the old days, ancient music lost in time. Unfortunately, there were not enough working phones or MP3 players to go around, so a lot of surviving members of society likely didn't know about such famous musical artists. Luckily, Tommy had grown up with classic rock before the catastrophic worldwide event even occurred. He took his love for rock music with him wherever he went; it was one of the only things that even kept him sane.
Tommy had been hanging out nearby, having been drawn over after hearing the familiar song. After Michael had finished playing, he commented, "He was from my neck a' the woods, sorta. Close enough." New York City and Newark were close enough in proximity, after all, only separated by the Hudson River. "Mike, was it? You're pretty good, pal. Not bad at all." He was no Billy Joel by any means, but he didn't sound like a dying horse either. Tommy had a certain eye for musicians, especially in these times. They were hard to come by.
[align=center] he's a tramp, he's a scoundrel he's a rounder, he's a cad [color=black] the badlands | prospective | tags
text SALEM ENTRY #01 8.15.16 BL PROSPECTIVE [div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 333px; min-height: 347px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 7pt; color: #000000; line-height: 99%;"]Salem's only expirience with music was when her mom used to sing her to sleep, or gently hum to herself while tidying up their house. Salem hadn't really tried singing much. Though, Mike made it look easy, and something about the song he just played made her want to join in.
She stared at Mike as she lit her cigar. "Who's Joel?" She mumbled as she shoved it in her mouth before exhaling a cloud of smoke. VITALS > overall status: 100%
> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.
> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: None TAGS ━ ━xGENERAL
> N/A | "Salem"
> Female
> 23
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Unnamed Father x Unnamed Mother | no siblings
>Lesbian | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaning I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wrong
[align=center] [table] | trigger warnings alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion.
tags 45 years old, difficult/hard opponent, nonviolent interactions are open, pm or ask for violent interactions.
| [/table] "speech" 'thought' text
Michael sipped his drink pensively as Tommy approached the stage, saying something about the original artist who sang the song. His mouth twitched and for half a second it seemed as though he might have actually smiled. Before his face schooled back into the features of one who had lost all and did not care anymore. "Something like that." He affirmed, drinking from his glass once more. Whiskey and piano seemed to go well together.
As Tommy continued Mike raised an eyebrow, "I grew up in uptown New York myself." The man admitted, though at a relatively young age he'd been shipped off to a catholic boarding school. He'd never been able to be good enough for his father, perhaps why he'd abandoned the road to becoming a doctor or lawyer and joined the military the day after his eighteenth birthday. He raised his glass in a solemn toast in Tommy's direction. Though whether it was a toast to Tommy or a toast to someone else was not clear.
"I should be after 13 years of piano lessons." He countered Tommy's praise. Salem's arrival brought Mike back to reality which he'd escaped for a brief moment in his short discussion with Tommy, "Billy Joel. Musical genius, wrote some of the best songs... period." Mike explained shortly, playing a few chords with his right hand as he drank with his left. "Try this one out." As he opened the chords for I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas.
Even though he'd been born in the 90s, he appreciated older music and tv as a kid, which included classic songs. And as it was getting close to Christmas, this seemed... like a good one to play. Setting down the drink, he took up the left hand as well. "I'm dreaming of a white Christams, just like the ones I used to know." It was a touch melancholy and honestly that was what Mike preferred singing, and playing on the piano.
Though he was known to play a few concert concertos. "Where the tree-tops glisten and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow." A, music was therapy. If only he'd been able to teach Will the piano, instead of being absent for most of his son's life.
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
text SALEM ENTRY #01 8.15.16 BL PROSPECTIVE [div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 333px; min-height: 347px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 7pt; color: #000000; line-height: 99%;"]She nodded at Mike's words, narrowing her eyes as he switched to playing another song. Sal's features immediately softened when he began singing. She remembered this piece, something about it...seemed to bring up memories that she didn't even realize she had.
Ripping through newspaper. Music, food, happiness. She didn't have much as a kid, but she remembered her mom singing this to her whenever the season seemed to change from chilly to freezing, and snow lined the ground outside of their old house. Was Christmas the holiday where they would unwrap gifts? Or was that Yuletide? She couldn't remember, but she didn't care, either. She simply let the warmth of her memories engulf her.
"I like this one," She let a smile cross her lips as she huffed out more smoke, imagining it was the smoke that used to rise whenever she and her mom used to light a fire on a cold winters eve. VITALS > overall status: 100%
> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.
> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: None TAGS ━ ━xGENERAL
> N/A | "Salem"
> Female
> 23
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Unnamed Father x Unnamed Mother | no siblings
>Lesbian | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaning I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wrong v
[align=center] Tommy cocks a brow. Mike also hails from the northeast? No kidding. He might have left for the same reason he did, to make a better life for himself. Of course, he might have had other reasons as well. "Yeesh. I was glad to get outta' that place. It ain't a pretty sight, that's for sure." The Italian-American shakes his head, crossing his arms. It was home, and it always would be, but spending another day there would have made him crazy. It was way too overpopulated and polluted, but here? It was relatively well-preserved and serene, a perfect way to spend his "early retirement."
Salem, one of the first people who greeted him upon his arrival, came along and questioned who "Joel" was. He lets out a "tsk" and gives a shake of his head, commenting, "Figures. No one knows what music is nowadays." Good music, anyways. Tommy wasn't trying to blame the girl for not knowing who the famous artist was, because it was likely that she was born after all of this shit went down. With loss of power came the downfall of everything, obviously including the music industry. All that was left were the few folks who could recreate the sounds on their instruments.
He stops talking as Mike proceeds to play another song, and it takes him a moment to realize what it was. He listens as Mike sings the words, and he mutters, "Is it that time a' year already?" Tommy had lost track, honestly. He knows that it must be close to winter due to the dropping temperatures, but it never occurred to him that it was December. He remembers Christmas mornings well; the most vivid memories are from when he was a child. Christmases began to be less fun as he got older, but that's usually how it went.
[align=center] he's a tramp, he's a scoundrel he's a rounder, he's a cad [color=black] the badlands | prospective | tags
[align=center][div style="width: 375px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 7pt; letter-spacing: 0.8px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 13px; color: #000"] "Of course th' guy you said started shit is from fuckin' new york" The short blonde glared at her brother ”Marti, we're not having a city war right now. Shut up and drink your beer - fuckin' lightweight.” she knew that would shut him up, drinking from her own bottle before looking to the forming group. She nudged the twins - who were the two to keep her company at this time - as to let them know she was going to wander off and join those around the piano.
” Now, let's not be rude about Salem not knowing who he is.” she teased, her scold nothing close to serious ”Though I didn't know you were from New York, Mike. ” she commented, drinking from her bottle again before looking to Tommy and smiling ”And you. Though I don't think we've met, I'm Penny.” the Italian-American girl greeted before glaring back at her brothers who she could hear giggling about...something. Children. Intoxicated children.
One of her brothers could play guitar, but none could play piano so hearing the Christmas song brought a small smile to the blonde's face. She was glad to hear though that Salem liked this song if not recognized it. ”It is, though you wouldn't think it with the lack of snow” she joked in response to Tommy asking about if it was that time of year already. "Something tells me Nonna can't take you to The Nutcracker this year either, Penelope" she looked back at Vinny and rolled her eyes ”Yeah, no shit. Do you see the Boston ballet anywhere, smartass?”
”I'm sure we'll find some way to be... all festive or whatever, yeah? Maybe not a tree or snowmen but, I'm sure there's something.”
[align=center] [align=left][b]but maybe it's 'cause I'm wearing your cologne
[align=right]The Badlands - Boston accent - @Noccy
text SALEM ENTRY #01 8.15.16 BL PROSPECTIVE [div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 333px; min-height: 347px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 7pt; color: #000000; line-height: 99%;"]A small smile crossed Salem's face when Penny stood up for her. However, she knew that if she needed to survive here, she couldn't rely on other people to keep her afloat.
"Thanks, Penny, but it's alright. I get that I was born past the world's prime." Salem tried to keep her words friendly, though. She wasn't looking to make enemies, she simply didn't want to be seen as weak.
She shivered at the mention of snow. She remembered back in the Northstar District there would be lots of snow around this time of year. She'd love to go outside and catch snowflakes on her tongue, and a few times she even tried making snowmen, though they usually ended up falling apart before she could finish. Nevertheless, she had nothing but fond memories of snow, and couldn't fight her dissapointment when she heard that the Badlands didn't get snow. She took the cigar but out of her mouth and watched the embers dwindle, her eyes glazed over as her mind filled with memories of white-outs and laughter. VITALS > overall status: 100%
> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.
> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: None TAGS ━ ━xGENERAL
> N/A | "Salem"
> Female
> 23
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Unnamed Father x Unnamed Mother | no siblings
>Lesbian | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaning I'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wrong
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]With the sound of the piano playing from the casino, it only captured the attention of fellow music man, Teddy himself. Ever since Teddy was born, his heart belonged to his hometown of New Orleans and all of the culture that surrounded it. Brass bands could be found on every corner in the city, bringing to life a city slowly in decay after the black out. Teddy could still vividly remember the way he and Julien would roam the streets as kids, Teddy babbling on and on about the talent in the city. When he was aged eight, Teddy took up the saxophone and, twenty years later, his love never ceased to exist.
Music was a big part of his life and so, upon hearing the familiar tune of a Christmas song, Teddy poked his head into the casino to see the small group of Badlanders huddled around a piano as they watched Mike play. Now, Teddy couldn’t say he was particularly fond of Mike, but he’d tolerate him just fine. After all, they had a deal. So, as the song ended, Teddy stepped into the casino and carefully made his way towards the stage. A slow applause from him echoed through the mostly vacant room, eyes looking right towards Mike before Teddy shifted his gaze away to have a look at the others in the room.
❝ Didn’t take you to be a play’a, Ford. ❞ Teddy teased, smug grin twitching at his lips at what he thought to be quite some joke, before stopping nearby the stage. ❝ Don’t stop there, play us another tune. ❞
// pretty sure this takes place before their fight, but pls let me know if i need to change anything!
[align=center][div style="width: 400px; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify; font-size: 6pt; line-height: 1.4; letter-spacing: 0.5px; word-spacing: 2px; margin-bottom: 5px;"] ✧･ﾟ: I'VE BEEN IN LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES, DATED EVERY WOMAN IN THE ATMOSPHERE. I'VE BEEN TO EVERY CONTINENT, BROKEN ALL THE HEARTS IN EVERY HEMISPHERE, AND IF I'M NOT THE TYPE OF GUY YOU LIKE TO CIRCUMVENT, JUST REMEMBER NOT TO LOVE ME WHEN I DISAPPEAR. I GRADUATED AT THE TOP, I LIKE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE BOURGEOISIE . . .
[align=center] [table] | trigger warnings alcohol, death, lots of blood, profanity, heavy violence, religion.
tags 45 years old, difficult/hard opponent, nonviolent interactions are open, pm or ask for violent interactions.
| [/table] "speech" 'thought' text
His fingers flew across the keys as if given wings. He was not an expert player by any means. His delivery was adequate, occasionally he clumsily fudged over passages that a better player would not have. His eyes briefly visited the faces of the people who had gathered around the piano to hear him play, for whatever reason. As he drew to the end of the Christmas time favorite, he let his hands rest, stretching them out and shaking them.
Michael reached for his drink and took a brief sip to moisten his lips. "We are maybe half way through December if I’m not mistaken." Mike answered softly in response to the question posed by Tommy... though others had already responded. He cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the boys with whom Penny had been drinking with.
He contemplated getting up from the piano now, his wrists felt a bit stiff. But as Teddy approached and clapped in his arrogant and infuriating way, Michael’s eyes sparked. He again asked himself why on earth he agreed to this exchange of power, the Badlands was better off dead than in the hands of this power hungry boy. "I suppose you have a specific song in mind Mr. Knope." His voice was cold, distant. Different than how he’d spoken to Teddy.
He played a few chords, and wondered what he should play next. Most of the music he knew was singing music, but... there were a few pieces he could play that were more theatrical. He began the melody for Carol of the Bells, sipping his drink in his left hand before he pushed himself into the song with both hands. It was a rather intricate melody and it took more concentration than one of the other songs he had played previously.
[align=center] MICHAEL FORD Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a member of the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.
|
