[ Tom Sturridge, male, he/him ] whatever you think you know about FORREST TURNER, the 32 year old, DEMISEXUAL, NEW COMER, it is likely time for you to start reconsidering. the rumored HELLHOUND is often described as SELF-ASSURED + PERSONABLE, but don’t let them fool you; they can also be MELODRAMATIC + HEADSTRONG, which often has them regarded as the WAYWARD. they are a EMT at NEW HOPE HEALTH CENTER, but it’s also said they are a N/A within the N/A. whatever you hear, you can’t deny there’s more to them that meets the eye, and it’s time we start uncovering the truth.
(tw for dead animals - specifically roadkill and taxidermy, near death experiences, and vague descriptions of major injury)
Name: Forrest Ashley Turner Nickname(s): n/a Age: 32 Title: The Wayward DOB: November 15th Gender Identity: Cismale Sexual Orientation: Demisexual Relationship Status: Single Occupation: EMT (Paramedic)
& Appearance
Height: 5′9″ Hair Color: Black/Brown Eye Color: Blue Distinguishing features: typically wears all or mostly black in what could be referred to as a gothic style Tattoos/Piercings: he has his ears pierced but he never wears any jewelry in them anymore
& Personality
Negative Personality Traits: melodramatic, headstrong, opportunistic, indecisive, short-tempered Positive Personality Traits: self-assured, personable, passionate, creative, independent MBTI: ESTP Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
& Background
Forrest had never lived in one place for more than a few years, constantly moving around the country even as a child. His mother went through places and people and jobs as easily as most people went through paper towels or clean laundry. Home was never a place for him, he felt no deep connection to anywhere he moved save for a few years in Arizona when he was in middle school, and when his mom died the year after he graduated high school it was as if he’d been set adrift in a vast ocean with only a few tethers to cling to.
One of those tethers was a long-time friend and “pen-pal” he’d be writing to - first on paper and then via email since it was easier than constantly updating addresses - since the age of thirteen. Their name was Sydney and miraculously he had managed to keep their contact constant even until adulthood, catching snippets of their life through hasty emails and the occasional card. Besides his mother, they were the only person they’d known longer than two years up until her death had turned everything on its head.
His life continued in limbo for the next six months, unsure where or even how to settle down after a lifetime of jumping place to place. He stayed put in Seattle where his mother had died for a while, taking up odd jobs and trudging through life like a zombie until he saw an advert for a summer EMT course and decided to take it. As the first thing that had peaked his interest since he’d entered his free-floating limbo, it seemed worth a shot and Sydney wholeheartedly agreed when he mentioned it to them in passing.
The course sparked a new impulse - a drive to do something more than float. It was a new era in Forrest’s life and, much like his mother, he felt the need for a change of scenery. Moving to North Carolina to room with Sydney and finish the schooling needed to become an EMT was the best decision he’d ever made. A new tether formed to keep him ashore for the time being.
When Syd started getting serious with their boyfriend, he moved out and got another place with a friend from work. It was a good arrangement, they both kept the same weird hours and often worked the same shifts so they were able to discuss the more bizarre cases they encountered with no preamble.
Forrest’s roommate became another tether to keep him in North Carolina and then, he became an even stronger tether as their relationship became romantic. It was an odd sort of thing for Forrest considering he’d never really had too many romantic feelings for people previously, but he didn’t let that stop him. He was happy and content and home was a place and a person instead of some vague idea.
(tw for dead animals, near death experiences, vague descriptions of major injury) He had been fascinated by death and the aftermath from a young age. Sure, he loved helping to keep people out of the ground most days, but the thought of dying had never been particularly terrifying. Graveyards were gorgeous memorials to what came before and he had a very similar mentality toward taxidermy. Which he picked up as a hobby in his late teens and hasn’t stopped doing since.
He started practicing on roadkill (that he chose selectively, bc rotting animals is a no go), which was ironic considering he got hit by a car in his late twenties. For all intents and purposes he should’ve died bleeding and broken out on the side of the road, but he woke up a week later at home with barely a scratch on him and a concerned supervisor - and an even more concerned boyfriend - wondering where the hell he’d been. (end tw)
That was only the beginning of the weirdness, however, as he began to lose chunks of time every few days and was told by friends and neighbors that he’d been seen places he didn’t remember going. It was beyond upsetting, but he kept it to himself, not wanting to lose his job or the stability he’d held onto for the first time in his life.
It snapped his carefully cultivated tethers and sent him free-floating all over again, only this time he couldn’t mourn the loss.
The hellhound - the entity he’d eventually come to understand was the only reason he was still alive - stayed undetectable for almost six months while Forrest tried and failed to keep himself together. His partner was worried and he was barely hanging onto the job he loved so much and when it all came crashing down, the hellhound revealed itself. At first, he was sure he’d finally lost it completely, but there were some things too real and yet too fantastical for explanation.
Forrest moved to Creation Peaks feeling so very much like the person his mother had been - adrift, changing lives whenever things didn’t go to plan, alone. He didn’t know why, exactly, he chose that location but he had a feeling the hellhound had something to do with it. Even still, that didn’t deter him. A fresh start was a fresh start and if it meant he kept his body’s cohabitant happy, maybe that would be to his advantage. His bond with the beast wasn’t strong - the grief he felt over the life he lost too intense to allow anything but anger and disbelief, but his knowledge of it had soothed some of the wounds in his psyche. Enough he was slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy.
& Random Headcanons
He has a cat named Sundae. Her acquisition was not intentional but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her she’s not supposed to live in his apartment. Forrest has never had a pet before.
A lot of his taxidermy consists of restoration of old pieces and adding a bit of whimsy to them because he thinks it’s a real shame to let them rot away in a box. He sometimes does them as commission items as well for friends or for a bit of supplemental income, but he doesn’t want to do any more than that lest his fun hobby become a chore thanks to capitalism.
He doesn’t kill any animals for his taxidermy nor does he approve of the practice. It’s more a way to give their physical form new life and purpose once they’re no longer using it. Natural causes only.
His mom’s ashes are in a little necklace urn he wears around because she wanted to never stop traveling. He doesn’t wear it as much as he used to.
He cycles between having many personal items and purging them to the kind of minimalism he grew up with moving so frequently.
& Wanted Connections
friends: friends are good, everyone needs friends
ill add more later, pls feel free to dm if you wanna come up with something together too!
