Panye

Tilly Marsh.

Aged twenty three.

Born December second, nineteen ninety-four. Five foot five inches tall. One hundred and forty two pounds.

Tilly marsh was born on a warm December day in the slightly mountainous regions of Paleto Bay to a very large, very close, family. Her upbringing was not a conventional one. Bounced around from aunts to grandmother, back again. Her mother always stayed in contact but wanted absolutely nothing to do with raising her. Her father had brushed her off as a measly good for nothing girl. She aged happily with her aunt Janice who cared for and nurtured her. When she turned thirteen Tilly was swallowed into the life her mother had been living. She was lost in the darkened shadows of her parents life. Her life slowly turned, this young girl who had been raised very carefully away from her parents to possibly end the mess of the family line, had been corrupted in a matter of months. Her grades fell, she skipped school, she was constantly running around with the scum of Paleto. Her mother and aunt were forced to talk to the school, her aunt argued that the child was smart and just needed a stable environment, away from her mother. Her mother opted to take her out of school. The family eventually split into a war zone, with young Tilly in the middle. She decided at fourteen years old, that she was done with it, and left. She walked for days into the desert. Her body was tired, her legs were weak, but she kept moving one foot in front of the other, until the night weighed too heavily on her, she passed out on the side of a back road near sandy shores. Her mind went blank, she didn’t remember who she was or where she was and maybe that was for the best. She woke up several days later in the hospital with two strange men, dressed in leather and jeans. They stood outside, guarding the open door. She sat up and looked around, a small bag of her things laid on the floor next to her bed, she looked down at the iv drip in her arm. Then she started coughing. The two me. Turned and stared at her then one walked away, presumably to get a nurse. The other walked in and knelt by her bedside, staring into her eyes. He smiled and said “Good Mornin’ sunshine. Can ya tell me your name?” She answered of course then was given a nod and left to the attention of the doctors and nurses. Once she was released a young man waited outside on a bike, he offered Tilly a helmet, which she gladly took, and scooted into the seat behind the man. She thought to herself, this is nuts, I shouldn’t be here. My mother is probably worried sick. Then she pushed it out of her mind, her mother never wanted her anyway. She sat with the stranger on the bike as he drove them through sandy, into a trailer park. Music was playing and just about everyone had a gun on their hip. The stranger parked and reached a hand out to help her off the bike, she was short for her age. She tugged off the helmet and fixed her hair, then offered it back to the man, who shook his head and explained it was hers now. She looked at the helmet and then to him and nodded. He told me his name and led me to a circle of trailers in the middle sat a very tall man, with short graying hair. He stood up with a disapproving glare to which She stared back at strongly. She continued staring then tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “Dad?” She asked, to this the man knelt and nodded at her. Then with that same scowl he opened his arms and offered her in for an embrace. She stayed in this community for years, she made it clear she was no ones woman, to anyone that tried to call on her. Her father assisted her, taught her how to use a gun, how to ride a motorbike, and how they survive. Here and there she would be offered a spot in their crew and eventually she accepted. She worked her way through the ranks and years. The day she turned twenty one she was gone, in Paleto for business with another group of people. She sat in the bar and waited for her father. She gave a yawn and heard three massive booms. She stood and placed her hand on her gun. Most people ran, others stood with her in the same stance. Her father burst out the door with his shirt bloodied and his gun bared to the bar She pulled hers from the holster and two other men from our club pushed through the doors with their guns at the ready. The only other men in the bar stopped and sighed, placing their hands up, barely outnumbered in this mutual meeting spot. She ushered her father out the door and back outside. They secured him into the van and two of them followed as he bled out in the back. They didn’t make it to the hospital, he was already gone by the time they pulled up. She screamed at the attendants to get a gurney, pull him out. Her boots clanked as She stomped and jumped around hurrying them to save her dead father. One of the men secured her as she was getting violent with the nurse doing cpr in the back of the van. She started screaming at the top of her lungs as the man dragged her away, forcing her to look the other way. She eventually calmed and fell into a depressive state. Her father was dead and she could do nothing. About a week after the funeral, the club had a meeting and looked to Tilly. She put her hands up and shook her head. Explaining the club was too big for her to take over at this point plus she hadn’t got the experience. The club told her she would take a few guys, and start up a new club. In the city. She shook her head then the same young man that helped her get here that first day told her he’d be with her. She looked to him and then shook her head again, saying she’d have to think on it. A month later she sat in her new clubs building right smack dab in the middle of the city. Her right hand man, the man she thought of as a brother standing with her without fail. A year had passed now, since that fateful day, and she sat in a bar up the road from her club, alone. She stared at the counter and sipped her drink. Four men walked up and sat next to her two on one side two on the other. The man to her left leaned over and whispered. “You must be Miss Tilly Marsh. I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Thomas Shelby.” He said and extended a hand for her to shake. She looked at him then shrugged and shook his hand. They talked, and talked. Until the bar threatened to close. He offered her his number and told her give him a call, she did. She is now twenty three and planning a wedding with Thomas and her massive new family. Her gun always sits on her hip and her past sits behind her. She’s ready to move forward and upwards. 

Addition/update

The wedding was a success, no cold feet. They limited the day to only one murder, by an uninvited Mr.Diego Martinez (deceased). Luckily he didn’t make it a flop and the day went on. Thomas and Tilly Shelby happily roll around as one. Pablo Escobar had been MIA for many weeks, leaving the bar, Tequi-la-la, ownerless. Tilly knew the bar inside and out. She decided she would claim it with Pablo as a partner, whenever he may return. Tilly has been neglecting her MC to run her business and assist her newfound family, she was slowly draining her funds though and opted back in. She set plans for the MC, setting prints for planned gun runs worth millions. She gave up on applying as a police officer, she was just having too much fun, and her family much too big, to be able to focus on that line of work. Tilly sat in her clubhouse, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. She smell wafted up to her every now and then and she openly sniffed. Her eyes closed and she leaned back against one of the old leather couches. She sighed softly and looked around, content with what life has given her in the last two years. She decided today was a good day to mourn. She sat down her mug and went to her bike. She started it up easily and breezes out of the parking lot. She kept going, along the paths at the cemetery, no one was on them why walk. She continued up a dirt path, to the top of a hill where her father was laid to rest. She shoved the kickstand out of her bike and slowly slid off, so she wouldn’t fall. She sat there for nearly an hour, the sky started growing dark. She got a tweet stating Legion park was the place to be. She rode up and parked evenly next to the men on Harley’s, they spoke then turned their attention to her. Asking why she was on a drag instead of a Harley. She responded with a smile, simply because she loved the look of the bike. She laughed along with them until they offered a cruise up to sandy, The Yellow Jack, she hadn’t been there in nearly four years, the place most of the club from sandy went, though She feared the club was all but gone considering the men she rode with had taken over sandy. She happily went along until once outside the bar she was stopped, quietly questioned about her club for a moment then, to her surprise was offered a position in their club. She denied them. They didn’t understand why since her club was so small, but growing. She explained to them it was her fathers club, that she needed to carry it on. Then shrugged, but understood and then laughed and called themselves allies, which She couldn’t be happier with. Four members in her MC, that’s all she had but at least now she has others, granted they were from a different MC, but she was welcome to call on them in her time of need. And that was perfect. Tilly has her husband, her makeshift family, her club, her bar, this was her life. She is happy, but now she wants more. Soon she will expand and this will be the start of The Hunters MC. She can’t wait to see what the future will hold.