Age: 28
1/7/85Height: 5'7
Weight: 135lb
Green Eyes
Irish/Caucasian
Long, Curly,
Bright Red Hair.
Loves short, red
dresses
BW: Topless dancer on the Nevada Strip
AW: Save Haven Refugee and Camp Whore
Quote:
"Maybe we can find who he really is while everyone’s distracted by Barbie
and her wolfman.”
Strengths
- She can adapt
to almost anything.
- She's more
aware of herself than most women, not afraid to go after what she wants.
Weaknesses
- Selfish.
Almost to the point of being dangerous.
- Uses people to
get what she wants.
FBI Notes
-The FBI has no
file for Tonya Lynn Murphy. Local NV records show a statistical arrest record,
indicative of early childhood abuse and poverty.
Back-story
Tonya was raised
in a shack with a father that couldn't keep his hands to himself, and a mother that
couldn't pass up a drink. She quickly learned that her body will get her a lot,
and at 16 was pregnant. Her father pays for an abortion and she runs away from
him to keep him from knocking her up again.
She becomes a
stripper and sleeps her way into an exclusive club on the Nevada strip. Greedy
and scheming, this fiery redhead will do what ever it takes.
Still an abused
girl on the inside Tonya longs to be part of the 'in-crowd' at the Safe Haven
but can't seem to find the door. Maybe she just needs a firm hand.
When Angela and her
group arrived in Safe Haven, Tonya was sure she would have to try to move her
sights lower…maybe even as far down as Doug or Seth. She can’t compete with Becky’s
youth and Kyle can’t stand her. She was debating being ‘caught’ in one of their
tents, when she realized she could still have Kenn. Because of what Angela told
her upon their first contact. “If you want him, he’s yours.”
See, Tonya didn’t take
that seriously at first. Not until she heard the rumors about the Wolfman and
began watching them. After only a day, it was clear that Kenn didn’t stand a
chance. When he’d turned to her in his rage, Tonya wisely welcomed him and now,
she’s in the middle of some hard decisions. Kenn is trying very hard to earn
back his place and if Tonya wants to keep him, she’ll have to really become one
of them. It should be fun watching her reform. Here’s a clip of the beginning.
“I need you to talk to Tonya.”
Moving by the fire truck, Angela looked
up at Kenn in surprise, “Why?”
“Adrian wants it, said to ask you.”
Angela understood then. The blond wanted
to be sure Kenn wasn’t abusing her, and who better to know than his former
victim?
“I’ll do it before we leave.”
“Report to him, not me.”
Kenn turned stiffly back to the hose
they had wrapped in duct tape to stop the leak and though she could have
assumed it was because he was scared of more transgressions being revealed,
Angela thought it was really about trust. Tonya was a snake that would turn on
a man if it suited her needs. The Marine wouldn’t have to have done anything
for her to say it was true.
“That’s
why he’s sending you,” The Witch enlightened. “You’ll know if she lies.”
Angela changed directions, heading for the
small hooch the camp whore called home. Tonya was set up in the rear of camp,
under the sparse trees that were chirping loudly with young Cicadas and Angela
knew from her time with Kenn that it was to cover the noise they made.
She tapped on the flap, ignoring the dozen
or so camp members watching her in surprise.
“Come in.”
Tonya’s face tightened at the Eagle
stepping through her flap. “What the hell do you want?”
Angela saw the new clothes, jeans and a
t-shirt with a flag on the front, the clean tent, and the strands of red
scattered around the vinyl floor. Kenn had taken her advice. He was trying to
reform Tonya.
“Well?” Tonya’s snarl was more misery
than threat.
“Is this a chopping party?”
Tonya snapped another large chunk with
the scissors and tossed it on the floor next to her chair. “I’m making your
Marine happy, as I’m sure you know.” Tonya glared at her. “And I agreed to it,
so go back and tell the Guardian I’m
fine.”
Angela stared in surprise. Was Kenn
sharing that much information with her?
“Why does the hair have to go?” Already
knowing, Angela waited patiently.
“He said I’m vain, about these,” She
snipped another clump, and a tear rolled down her unpainted cheek. “I guess
he’s right.”
Next
Week: The Sam Prism
"This
is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?
Hello?
Is anyone out there?"
The Survivors
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