DR_TRAPEZOID

The Poisonville Auditions

Sorry for being all inactive and whatnot. Extracurriculars and stuff.
For the record, Cheyenne: 1, Y'all: 0

The Poisonville Auditions

Cheyenne grimaced, losing any calm she might've had earlier. She didn't do subtle often, but she had given it an honest effort this time. She stared the principal in the eye for less than a second, before taking action. Though Cheyenne certainly was no Hercules, her years of hard labor on a ranch gave her the strength to overpower the rather old principal. A quick sweep of the arm, and the walkie-talkie was on the floor. "We could've done this the easy way." Cheyenne muttered, kicking up her leg. Out from her boot slid the bowie knife, metal smoothly running across leather. Though it might've been a rather difficult maneuver, many bored nights had been spent practicing it, and it finally paid off. In the split second it took to do the motion, the knife was already in her hand.

It was a quick death for the old woman, even merciful in consideration of what others might do. The oversized blade sunk deep into her neck, a spurt of blood quickly covering the terror on the old wrinkled face. Cheyenne walked away, blade easily sliding out to accompany her. A sigh tumbled out from her lips, as she began to wipe the blade clean, before shoving it back into her boot.

'That could've gone better.' She thought to herself. She really had thought her plan had been rather clever, and it would've gone off without a hitch. Perhaps people here were simply far more harsh than she had expected. Obviously, she would have to adjust her style, or be left in the dust. She could only imagine how the others were doing- more likely than not, the rest of the list had been crossed off by her competitors. She began to curse herself for the carelessness of that kill, unable to even savor the fact that she had accomplished it so quickly.

It was then that she remembered the bottle of whiskey- That wasn't exactly something that she wanted left there. So, after quickly ducking back to remove the evidence, she continued a hasty, but not quite suspicious walk away from the corpse. As she walked, she pulled out her list, crossing off the name of the principal rather quickly. All in all, it hadn't gone too badly, after all. Cheyenne had managed to get some good information out of the Principal, along with the kill. Giacomo must already be in the town, which was good. But, that mafioso comment was unnerving. Though she hadn't really understand a man who would put a hit out on a principal, she also hadn't expected to be dealing with members of the mafia. Of course, perhaps it was simply an ethnic slur. Of course, she had been clear with the statement of drugs. A rather disgruntled look on her face, Cheyenne scribbled the word 'mafia' on the list, next to Salviati.

A swig of whiskey rather quickly shifted her thought process. It was at that moment that she was walking past the church. For just a brief moment, she remembered the pastor being on her hit list. But she didn't linger. A religious woman, she did not need that murder on her mind. Let one of the others be responsible for that one. Cheyenne shook her head a bit. Who in their right mind would even commit a murder in a church, no matter what the price on the mans head?

The Poisonville Auditions

Hopefully that post was acceptable. I'm a bit new to the whole 'hired killer' thing.

The Poisonville Auditions

Cheyenne smiled as the message came through, a simple tune ringing out from her pocket. Of course, she couldn't answer it from her motorcycle, but she was just under a mile out from Personville. She swerved back and forth slightly as she drove, fatigue almost getting the best of her. But for now, she couldn't waste time. Not when this hunt had such high stakes. As soon as she could see the welcoming sign over the horizon, she pulled over to the side of the road, grimacing as her bike bounced over the buzzer strip.

Stretching out a bit as she dismounted the motorcycle, before pulling out her phone. She quickly read over the message, lingering over the list. She frowned, before deciding to pull out a small piece of paper, upon which the names and professions were quickly scribbled. Upon memorizing the list as well as she could, she snapped the phone in half, stuffing the remnants into the exhaust pipe of the motorcycle. Taking her sweet time, she removed a rather large saddle bag, checking the contents briefly.

Satisfied with her work, Cheyenne removed a bottle of whiskey from the bag, tossing it carelessly onto the road, contents spilling across the pavement. After waiting a brief moment, Cheyenne violently struck the bike with her leg, the light craft tipping over rather easily. She took one last brief look before walking away, headed towards the city. She made some distance before hearing a loud crash behind her. Though she flinched a bit, she showed no other reaction. Surely enough, a vehicle had not noticed the motorcycle until too late, and ended up in an unfortunate wreck. Though the body of the biker wouldn't be found, the spilled beer would be proof enough to the police that this was nothing more than a drinking and driving incident.

Cheyenne took out her list once more, to take a look at the targets, Why waste time, when she could get ahead? That is, assuming no one else had gotten around to killing before her. The list showed a promising candidate- Principal of the high school? Plenty easy to track down, probably easy enough to put a hole through.

Though looking a bit out of place, Cheyenne strutted into the high school as if she belonged. She only hoped that she had made it before the principal could leave. Most of the walk over she had been rehearsing her story over and over. This mark would be easy enough to take out, as long as she played it safe. How embarrassing would it be to fail so quickly, after all. So, when she asked to speak with the principle, and entered that all too sweet smelling office, she had a gentle smile on her face, a rarely seen expression.

"Hello there, is it Joanna? Mind if I take a seat?" She asked, not really waiting for an answer to sit. "Alright, I know that it's late in the school year and all, but my family has only just moved here, and we wanted to see if we could get our sweet boy enrolled. I know, we should've called a lot earlier, but this has all been very sudden, and my sweet Giacomo insisted we wait until our arrival." She said, voice coated with honey. "Now, I'm going to leave you with my husbands number, and he will be in Friday to speak to you about this. Does 6:00 work for you?" Cheyenne asked, talking quickly, so as to not give the principal room to respond. "Anyways, I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've got to get going. New town, new jobs, you know how it is. Oh by the way, my husband's name is Giacomo Salviati, so you know who to look for. Alright, I'll let you get back to your work now. Buh bye!"

Without another word, Cheyenne left, strutting away with a peppy confidence in her step. Yes, this would go all too well, so long as the name of Salivati went unrecognized. That had been a spotty part of her plan- she knew nothing about the man. Another target, but labeled Las Vegas? Her employer didn't drag her out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere just to send her back out somewhere even further, did he? Still, these thoughts were quickly wiped away by a swig of booze. Now, she could wait.

The Poisonville Auditions

I'm assuming that the list is accurate in the occupation and whatnot of the targets? Or is only the name accurate, leaving us to find them by some form of devious means?

The Poisonville Auditions

Alright, Cheyenne is as done as she's going to get. Sorry for the lackluster personality, I prefer to develop it as the RP goes on.
Also, since 'm probably going to I will die, mind if I start working on Seattle, and just throw him/her on a backburner, for when that happens?

The Poisonville Auditions

-NAME/ CITY OF ORIGIN-
Cheyenne

-AGE-
37

-APPEARANCE-
Cheyenne, all in all, would be described by most as 'beautiful, if she cleaned up a bit.' Her face is nicely proportioned, just a bit chubbier than most. Her forehead bears a small scar, little more than a nick, but most definitely noticeable. Her eyes bear a dull hazel color, nothing spectacular. Her red hair is often pulled back in a messy ponytail, bedraggled strands sticking out here and there. Her face is, more often than not, covered in stains and smudges of grease and oil. Rather large ears frame her face, accompanied by a plethora of wrinkles. Despite this overall innocent look, she almost always has an angry scowl marring her features. Her body is lithe, and built small. She is most commonly seen wearing a plaid button up shirt beneath a brown leather jacket. The shirt is tucked into a simple pair of old worn-out jeans, tattered from overuse. Not one for pageantry, she doesn't wear make-up or accessories, save for a bandana around her neck.

-WEAPON/ METHOD OF CHOICE-
Though generally not the sneaky type, Cheyenne prefers to not have to wash blood out of her clothes. As such, she keeps distance from her targets, putting holes in them from a distance. She is a crack shot with her rifle, almost always able to put a hole through their head, not that she needs to. She wields a Winchester Model 70 rifle, most often loaded with .416 Remington Magnum rounds. This rifle, intended for dangerous game, is lethal with just about any shot she makes.

Rifle

Imagine it without the scope, just ironsights.

Though she primarily relies on her rifle for combat, she does carry a bowie knife hidden in her right boot. Though she is in no way proficient with knife-fighting, (rather terrible at it, in fact) it gives her a bit of an edge when things get close.

-PERSONALITY-
One word that would never describe Cheyenne is 'subtle'. Brash and rude in conversations, she tends to offend just about everyone she meets. One word that would describe her is 'alcoholic'. Never seen without a bottle of whiskey within five feet, the hard drink fuels her abrasive nature. She tends to have a soft spot for children and animals, but that rarely comes up in her occupation. Though not mute or antisocial, she isn't one for talking. She isn't very professional, often sloppy with her job, though she is known for getting it done quicker than most others. Though she takes quite awhile to warm up to people, she is certainly quicker to make a bond over a bottle of whiskey.

Dungeon Keepers

And I'm just sitting here playing DOTA.

Dungeon Keepers

Lugubrious said Despite his comparative lugubriousness,

The Poisonville Auditions

CS coming soon. FYI, I'd like to call dibs on Cheyenne.