TAILGATE TOWN

UPDATED: SEPTEMBER 22nd, 2020

@tupeloextras

KANE // 24 // SHE/HER // EST

DISCORD: whiskey#6583

I work nights so my replies on the dash and in discord are kind of all over the place time-wise

DAKOTA CARVER

Full Name: Dakota Keaton Carver

Nickname(s): Kota, DK

Birthday: April 23rd, 1987 (33) 

Hometown: Tupelo, Mississippi 

Education: Tupelo High School 

Occupation: Former Marine, Mechanic 

Faceclaim: Max Thieriot 

Content Warning(s): 

Death, Military Death, Military Injury, Suicide, 

He rested his hand on his son’s shoulder, happiness radiating through his own body at how happy and proud his son was for seeing the stuffed animal on the dashboard. Justin had been over the moon to send this care package, not wanting to his father to help him at all while he wrote the letter. Just to send the package for him. He watched as the man reached into the truck, grabbing the stuffed animal. From just having his hand on the shoulder of Justin, he knew the young boy was lighting up like the Fourth of July. 

“He really kept you safe?” Justin was seconds from hopping up and down, pressing his shoulder up against Weston’s hand. Justin was reaching his hands out for the stuffed animal and if Weston hadn’t learned how to hold back tears nine years ago, he would have been in a load of trouble. Though he did let a single one fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped at it, hoping no one saw it. 

“Thanks for that,” he spoke to the man, “I swear sendin’ this and the letter was one of his favorite things to that year. It was all he could talk about.” Weston explained with a smile. 

“He definitely did,” Dakota replied with a big smile. In the scheme of things it was funny how much of an impression the gifted stuffed animal had made on Dakota when he was overseas. It was as if walking around with it tucked away in his gear made him feel like he still had some sort of tie back to humanity. It was good that the damn thing couldn’t talk, though. In reality it had seen a lot of shit that no one should ever really need to see. The reality of the situation didn’t really matter, though. Dakota had been grateful to have that connection back home. “Thank you for letting me borrow him,” Dakota added on and reached to shake the young man’s hand. “It was a pleasure.” 

He turned back to the man, assumed to be the father, and offered a grateful smile. “I’m glad he sent it,” Dakota began. “I hope he never has to know the type of impact something like that has on someone when they’re over there.” He lowered his voice slightly in order to avoid speaking of war in front of a child. “Small world, though,” Dakota added on the sombre tone lifting instantly. “I wouldn’t never thought that the person who sent it would be here in ol’ Tupelo and see it  in the truck.” 

It wasn’t every day that Jane was doing her own grocery shopping, but when she did, she was going to have an attitude about it. Today was no different. Due to the fact that she was sending messages to a bride she was planning a wedding for, she didn’t realize that her cart was still moving rather quickly when she’d let it go. When it hit the gentleman standing in front of her, she let out a loud, annoyed grunt and looked up from the device in her hands. “Hey, it would be nice if the manbaby spawn of the Terminator wasn’t in my way!” she snapped in his direction, letting out a huff as she stepped forward to tug her cart away from him. Jane wasn’t the most pleasant person and she was aware of that, but that only fueled her retaliation to something that wasn’t Dakota’s fault in the first place. If the young man knew anything then he should know not to get in her way, right? If anything, he owed her an apology for doing so, and she was hoping to hear one. // @dakotacarver​

Dakota’s day had been relatively uneventful so far and he figured it would remain that way since nothing exciting usually happened while grocery shopping. Maybe the delightful surprise of something being on sale, but that was about all he could think of. So when someone’s shopping cart bumped into him and was then followed up by a short enraged rant from Jane Dunn he had wished that his shopping had actually just continued to be uneventful. As she pulled her cart back away from him he looked around as if he was expecting to see someone else as the target of her wrath. “What?” He didn’t quite know what to say to her other than that considering he didn’t really know what ‘man baby spawn of The Terminator’ meant. It felt like an insult, though. “Sorry?” The apology came out like a question rather than a statement since Dakota genuinely didn’t understand why the simple interaction had been met with so much anger. 

—Starter for @dakotacarver​ Location: Tupelo Local Library / Tupelo Veterans Support Group 

He preferred to stay on the periphery through the meeting. As an invited guest, he really wasn’t a part of the proceedings - more just trying to get a sense for the way the organization worked. He’d already decided they were a good potential partner, and as the meeting wrapped up, everyone availing themselves to the snacks and drinks provided, he allowed himself to mingle more freely amongst the members. “So… How long have you been involved here?” he asked an occupied man standing nearby. 

Dakota’s involvement with support groups for local veterans had been pretty steady ever since he returned home (permanently) to Tupelo just three years ago. While he preferred to not divulge into his own personal strifes that came with being in the military for 12 years and losing friends due to it... he had no issue showing up from a volunteer standpoint. For the most part he found himself leaned up against a wall somewhere watching or sitting in the back row and watching. After the meeting had concluded and members were mingling, he turned to the person beside him. “Probably around 3 or so years,” Dakota replied, “Give or take a few months or so.” There was a pause as Dakota tried to figure out if he recognized this person from earlier meetings done. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he admitted and stuck his hand out. “Dakota.”

Standing out in front of Morris Hardware and gawking at a vehicle was not exactly the plan Weston had for his son, but the ten year old had a mind of his own and was more than thrilled about seeing this long lost stuffed animal nearly three years later. “Hey,” Weston commented in return, southern politeness plaguing him even when he didn’t realize that he was speaking to the owner of the truck. It wasn’t until he saw him looking under it that Weston put two and two together, “Oh sorry,” he shook his head, placing his hand on Justin’s shoulder, “That there stuffed animal you have,” Justin immediately pointed to the dashboard of the truck through the windshield, “Well, couple years ago, my son wrote up a letter and sent a care package over to some marines and well,” he chuckled lowly, still not believing that the world was as small as it seemed right now, “apparently that one right there is the one he sent.” 

When the man pointed toward the stuffed animal that sat on the dashboard of Dakota’s truck and explained the relevance he couldn’t help find it kind of... amazing? While Dakota had been overseas he had received a care package from one of those programs that allowed for families to send things to those who were serving. One letter he had received had been from a child who had also sent along a small stuffed animal that they claimed kept them safe from monsters. Naturally, that meant that Dakota had that little stuffed friend kept tucked away in his pocket while he went out on patrol. When he turned home he continued to keep it and kept it displayed on his dashboard. “Oh, wow,” Dakota began with a grin. The world was truly a lot smaller than people realized. “What are the chances of that?” He opened the door of the truck, setting down the bag from the hardware store on the passenger seat and plucked the animal off of the dashboard. “I have to say,” he said and looked down at it. “He definitely kept me safe,” Dakota said with a smile, “I think he should retire with you, though.” 

Jo tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as Dakota approached her. “It just keeps stalling here and there.” Jordan was convinced it was a miracle she made it down to the shop. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t that bad but her dad was out of town and Austin was pretty busy with Greer these days that she didn’t want to bother either of them with the issue at hand. She had wished someone else was down at the shop other than Dakota, but she was there and it was too late to back out now. “I don’t know, I mean, cars aren’t really my thing,” it was obvious. She didn’t even know why she said it, but here she was. Nervous as hell. “I just, yeah, maybe it’s nothing.” Jordan lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “It’s old so I should probably consider something newer but I’m attached.” 

Being attached to a vehicle was something that Dakota knew all too well. Firstly, his sister had been holding on to a real shitbox in an effort to appease their mother. Though Dakota couldn’t really say that Brooklyn seemed all that attached to it. Of course, Dakota on the other hand had a real attachment to his beloved Carmen which was a white, early-2000′s Chevy Silverado. While it was quite possible for him to actually get himself a newer truck he was busy running trying to take Carmen into the 200k mile club. “It’s fine,” he said with a short laugh. “I’ll take a look and we’ll see. Might be a near-dead battery or something. That’s a pretty quick fix.” Looking at Jo and Dakota interact with each other now made it seem far fetched that they ever dated for any amount of time. “So...” There was a pause as he headed towards her car. “How have you been?”

@dakotacarver​

Justin and Weston often walked around downtown on the weekends after he did a few hours down at Spins. His son loved looking at all the records, knowing that it was his mother’s favorite thing as well. He was certain his son could spend hours doing that but when it was time to go, the boy was just as eager to make their trip around downtown, often resulting in them getting lunch together. As they walked the streets, Justin was lost in his own world and Weston focused on the biggest part of his world.. Justin. Even before losing Juliette, his son was his entire world. And per usual, an excited cry from his son pulled him from his thoughts. “

Dad! Dad! Dad - look!” Justin was tugging on his hand, pointing at a truck parked on the side of the street. “Do - do you remember the stuffed animal I sent to the - to the soldiers?” His son was barely getting the words out as he bubbled with excitement. “That’s the one! That’s the one I sent!” 

Weston looked at the truck, his brows raising. His son was right. It was the stuffed animal. He remembered Justin being so damn adamant about sending it. “Well look at that,” he was actually in disbelief, “you’re right, that is the same one.” Weston couldn’t even look away. He never thought he would see that stuffed animal again. Let alone in Tupelo.

Dakota would have been able to break down and reassemble an engine in a shorter amount of time than it took for him to get in and out of Morris Hardware. Each time he even thought about going into the store he knew that he’d have to account for the five hour long conversation he’d end up having with Bobby Morris. Today was no different than usual when he went in. Time slipped away without hesitation as Dakota spent a good chunk of time shooting the shit with Bobby and some of the other chatty, iconic locals who were in the hardware store that day. 

As Dakota exited the store he turned toward his truck and paused, noting the man and child who seemed to have some kind of interest in the vehicle. Sucking in a breath, he slowly approached and offered a friendly wave. “Hey,” he offered with a short nod as he approached the truck. He paused before opening the door, taking a step back and peeking at the pavement beneath the vehicle to see if there was something going wrong that had attracted the attention of these people. 

@dakotacarver​

Dating and Jordan were a pretty serious manner. There were few instances in her life that she wanted hook ups and nothing serious. Typically, they started with her being drunk. And running into her exes in Tupelo? Rarely a pleasant encounter for Jordan. She could kind of play it off, that she was happy to see them, but chances were, she had been the one dumped and the one far more invested than they were. That had practically been the case with Dakota Carver. It had been a while since she needed any work on her car and well, it was a bummer that he was the only one working. However, Jo needed a working vehicle. “Dakota, hey,” she glanced up at the clock, “I know it’s late, but do you think you can take a look,” her hands were shoved into the pocket of her jacket, “I’m hoping it’s just a faulty batter or somethin’.” Her gaze wandered from the clock to the floor, barely stopping to linger on his features. 

Dakota’s dating experience had been rather limited during the time he had returned to Tupelo. He had spent twelve years in the Marines and a decent portion of that time had been focused on not returning home in a wooden box beneath a flag. While Dakota had managed that, he hadn’t managed to get it together long enough to date for any amount of time that seemed all that meaningful. There had been a few here and there... but his own distractions tended to make him a little less than invested at times. This had been the case with Jordan Kirby. He could have touted the “it’s me, not you,” line but they both knew that it was mostly to try and make the person who wasn’t invested feel better about not being invested. So when she came into the shop he could sense the disappointment that he was the only one there at the time. “Hey, Jo,” he said, pushing himself away from the vehicle that he had been working on. He glanced at the clock as if it would have made a difference and gave her a shrug. “Yeah, sure,” he motioned towards the direction in which she had came, “What’s been goin’ on with it?”

DAKOTA CARVER, TUPELOTASK 002

TUPELOHQ EVENT #1

@tupeloextras​

She sat on the steps of her colonial style childhood home in cartoon pumpkin covered shorts and an oversized sweater that she was using more like a blanket. Misty, her darling, grey furred child, was busy batting at the windows from the bench on the wrap around front porch. When Matty spotted someone walking by, she dashed down the steps, waving her hand to get their attention. “Hey, hi, how’s it going? Do you know how to get a bird out for a house without killing it?” she asked, arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to block out the early morning chill. “My cat wants to kill it, but that just seems like it’d be a lot of feathers to clean up.” 

As the mornings got cooler, Dakota’s motivation to go for a jog each day seemed to decline exponentially. It was one thing to get up and roll into work. At least he got paid to be awake at that point. No one was paying him to jog and honestly - jogging was his worst nightmare. So by this point in his run he found slowing his speed down to a walk and deeming himself simply unfit to continue out. So he and Roo wandered down one of the last legs of his normal route before being flagged down by none other than Matty. “Huh?” He stood at the end of the walkway in front of her childhood home, hands on his hips as she briefly explained the situation. “Oh, c’mon, you go off and become a city girl and now you can’t get a bird outta your house?” Dakota couldn’t help but laugh, “Open the windows and chase it around or somethin’.” 

Skelly cocked his head to the side as he couldn’t help but admire the younger man who happened to be bent over the hood of a car. He brought his truck to the mechanics to get a tune up, it was sure needed after driving all those miles when he moved to Tupelo. The firefighter knew little about vehicles but knew enough to know what was wrong with it. “Oh, don’t mind me. There’s no rush. Please–” he gestured back to the car. “Continue with your work, I’m just enjoying the view.”

@dakotacarver​

Dakota was currently leaned over a Chevy Cruze that had been on the wrong end of revenge by a family of squirrels who had taken up residence in the engine bay. The car had been sitting in this person’s driveway for quite some time and the fact that it managed to crawl to the shop was impressive. When someone entered the shop, he looked up as the man stated it would be no rush. “Oh, are you like a... uh, car guy?” He asked casually before taking a step back from the chevy and wiping his hands off on a towel. Dakota flipped the towel over his shoulder before turning to the man. “What can I do for you today?” 

Brooklyn only grinned at Dakota and his words. Her brother knew that she had a certain taste when it came to things. Much more so in comparison to the man’s want to live a simple life. She didn’t exactly think that was for her, but if it’s what he wanted, she could support it. For him. But not for her. “I mean, I don’t need it later.” She shrugged her shoulders, “I have to work in a few hours anyway, so I can always have one of the girls give me a ride home after work.” She told Dakota with a smile. Or Hunter. Though in all honestly, she would be the one giving him a ride at the end of the night. “I’d rather not be the one to give mom a heart attack,” she rolled her eyes, “I’ll leave all that to you.”

“Well... if you need a ride or just need to take it, you know where I am,” Dakota offered in a half-ass way, following it up with a nonchalant shrug. His sister’s personal aesthetic and the aesthetic of his beloved Silverado, Carmen, did not match all that well. While Carmen had been pretty luxurious at the time that was about fifteen years ago. Brooklyn wouldn’t be satisfied by something quite that aged. “Just don’t go gettin’ anything foreign,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Or else you’re gonna have to find a European mechanic and pay out the ass for any work done on it.” Sure, European vehicles were fun, fast, and often much more luxurious than their American counterparts - they were also much more expensive to even deal with and smaller towns weren’t necessarily equipped with mechanics who were certified on that type of work. “Unless you wanna have that bad boy towed all over the state anytime somethin’ goes wrong with it.” 

David was still looking at his phone when he walked into the shop, “Oh, uh, hey,” he shoved his phone in his pocket before looking up. “My rental car’s got an oil leak.” His thumb shot over his shoulder as he glanced back at the little fusion in the parking lot. “Said they’d reimburse me but we will see about that. You got time to take a look at it?” David questioned, really focusing on the man behind the desk. “Wait -” he paused, “Dakota? From the marines?” While he was in the army, he had several instances in which he drank with the marines, “Son of a bitch,” he chuckled, hating that this small town was suddenly feeling a lot smaller. 

As the man motioned behind him, Dakota looked over his shoulder towards the Ford Fusion that sat out in the parking lot and gave him a nod. “Yeah, man. I’ll definitely take a look at it.”  An oil leak in a rental was a touch sad but probably not something too rare considering how rentals were treated. As the man continued to speak, Dakota took a moment to focus more on the person in front of him instead of the sad little Ford outside. Being in the military (and for how long Dakota had been in) you ended up meeting a lot of people and just because he had been in the Marines didn’t mean he hadn’t met with people from other branches. “Oh, shit. David?” The longer Dakota looked the more familiar the guy looked. Granted, it had been a good few years between the last time he had seen David and now and the two probably had millions of stories between them for those years. “Man, the world just got smaller, huh?”

Deacon and Dakota could go from talking the whole time they fished to not speaking for a couple weeks and fall right back into their banter easily. “Hell yeah,” he replied with a laugh. “You know me, any chance I get to not have the shit coffee at the station, I’m reachin’ for the good stuff.” He blew an air kiss in Dakota’s direction at the joke. “I’m good, the kids are good. They love first grade, which is not surprising at all. Those kids love school, I blame it on my mama.” Deacon hadn’t meant to blow right past his own stuff, it was just a default to talk about the kids when they got brought up, and he’d talk about them for ages if he could. “How about you? How’s your family doin’?” 

While Dakota did not have any children of his own, he certainly did not mind them. Nor did he mind hearing Deacon talk about his two. There was something uplifting about the innocence of children, especially when much of Dakota’s adult life had been spent in less than innocent terrain. “First grade?” Dakota rose his brows, “Next thing you know they’ll be headin’ out to college. Good to hear they like school, though. Someone’s gotta.” He took a sip of coffee and sat back contently, “Oh, y’know. Nothin’ real new. Brooklyn’s out there lookin’ at a new car or something.” Dakota shrugged. His sister had come to him before about the vehicle she was driving which was non-arguably a shitbox. “I think she said somethin’ about a Mercedes? Dunno where she’s gonna be takin’ that in for work... but it ain’t gonna be me this time.” 

She shook her head at his comment, rolling her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Silverado. I’ll let that one fly because you’re doin’ me a favor, but don’t go hatin’ on my baby or I’ll pick a fight with you.” Would she really fight him? Absolutely not. Hadley McDaniel didn’t start fights she couldn’t win, which meant she didn’t start fights period. When Dakota mentioned taking his top off, she instinctively looked down at his torso, leaning her head to one side. “I don’t know, I think you could definitely get away with it if you wanted to. I doubt we’d hear any complaints, even if my Jeep’s engine wasn’t the only thing over heatin’.” 

“Oh, a fight, huh?” Dakota laughed, “So are you gonna live and die by that Jeep life?” Oddly, Dakota suddenly couldn’t think of another person he knew who owned a Jeep Wrangler. He’d see them out all the time, it wasn’t like they were rare or anything - but he couldn’t think of anyone outside of Hadley who had a Wrangler. “Oh yeah? Well.. I wouldn’t want to be cited for indecent exposure,” he laughed, “I mean.. maybe ol’ Deacon wouldn’t cite me but I’m sure one of the other boys in blue might.”