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pickledeyeball

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About pickledeyeball

  • Birthday 01/13/98

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  1. Armen sat up from his bedroll in the dead of night, he shifted his weight to the right side of his body and leaned over towards the fire. The fire was almost out, Armen grabbed the nearest stick and stoked the coals. The embers flew up wildly into the night sky, dancing between the branches of the pine trees above. Armen grabbed a handful of twigs and placed them on top of the coals, he laid back down onto the bedroll. As Armen laid down and began to fold his arms behind his head, the twigs began to catch from the intense heat of the coals. Armen exhaled loudly and sighed. For some explainable reason, Armen couldn't sleep tonight. Although, not sleeping to some may seem normal -- knowing that the dead roam the Earth and everyone you ever loved is probably dead. But considering all this, Armen had it pretty good. He's had awhile to cope with his losses and move on, he's got a nice camp set up, and most importantly - He's not dead. To most, life would appear to be the only thing driving survivors forward; Survival drove Armen forward, forcing him to survive and cling to his life. Now that Armen had finally had things pretty good.. there's something missing for Armen. Armen gazes up at the night sky again, partially hidden by the trees. He thinks to himself, "Really..? How did I get here? I mean -- I know how I got here. I want to know how I got here -- why I'm sitting up in the middle of the night with a full belly of venison and living surprisingly well considering the current shitty situation. I want to know why I feel no fear, or how I let go of Grace and everyone else so easily-" Armen shot straight back up from his bedroll. Armen thought to himself, with a smirk, "I'm meant to be alive. I'm meant to do something... God has a plan for me, I must be meant to do great things.. otherwise, I would have died.. It must have been God's strength that allowed myself to let go of Grace to easily. That's it! I'm meant to restore order to this land, and create a new society to rise up from the ashes!". Armen knew of groups in the area that have tried to establish order, either with force, or with pure allegiance to one individual or the group. Armen laid back and began to think of how he can start a company and employ other survivors. Armen wants these employees to begin to start a new life, and hopefully aspire to rise up form the ashes of the old society, and create a new one. Armen stoked the fire one last time, the embers flew up again; Armen watched with amazement and tried to count how many there were. Armen smiled and began to slowly drift off into a deep sleep.
  2. *Armen clears his throat and coughs, he presses down the PTT, the transmission starts with a loud country accent* "Listen here all of you threatening my company and employees..." *He takes a brief pause* "This shit is NOT acceptable, we, for the most part have tried to remain neutral. But I will make this clear. As a matter of fact, I'll make it CRYSTAL fucking clear -- You fuck with my company, I will make sure that you won't be a problem anymore. There's a couple ways I can go about this. Bullets work very well for dealing with problems, but, I ain't a violent man either -- maybe you want a few guns. Maybe you need a car. I can make these things happen." *Armen coughs loudly into the mic, but moving away as he realizes he coughed into it* "We would rather be allies with as many people as possible. Know, that we have no interests other than trading and creating a safe haven for other survivors in the future." *he releases the PTT, then quickly pressing it again* "--If you have any problem with me, I guarantee I can make it go away." *He realeses the PTT again, putting his head in his hands, he wipes the sweat from his forehead into his hair, slicking it back before putting on his black baseball hat.* "Stephen, We've got a lot to do." *Armen stands up, grabs his Winchester and walks out of the barn where his radio is located.*
  3. *radio broadcast starts with a noticeable country accent, there are obviously some issues in the beginning, some words buzzing in and out with constant static* "Do....be a trader... spent over... In trading... Looking... start...colony... Will be paid... guns.." *there is a scuffle in the background with some distant yelling between two people* "Damn it Stephen! ... Is this shit even on?" *there is a ten second pause of static, the operator clears his throat, followed by another brief pause* "Alright, I think I got this working now.. Yep, There we go." *The operator clears his throat once more* "Welcome to the Trans-Chenarus Trading Company, or the TTC! I'm Armen Brackish, your new boss! Have you ever needed some food, water, guns, or ammo? Need no more! All my employees will be graciously given weapons and ammo for their service as well as shelter, food ,and water. All traders make 95% of what they trade, traders are expected to give an estimated 5% share of the take, at the traders discretion." *Armen Clears his throat and coughs* "I am also looking to employ security roles within my company, if you are a skilled sharp-shooter, or just-" *there is a sound of paper being straightened out* "...good with a gun, I need guards for my traders, as well as for the future colony that I plan to build..." *There is a pause with static and some fumbling* "...and now if any large group is listening, TTC accepts many different orders for almost anything! We also deliver to you! If anyone would like to contact us for employment opportunities or ordering, please do so with our private frequency." *there is more fumbling and static* "...is this shit off now? No? Well get the fuck on it Stephen! I told you to turn it off when I was--" *the radio transmission ends*
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