Who Is T-Bone?

Trevor “T-Bone” McKellan was born in a house that had more bullet holes than windows. In Hogsback Hollow, Arkansas, life came with a kick – and most of it from the back of a rifle or the bottom of a bottle. He signed up for the Army before he learned to spell “Arkansas” – just to get the hell out of a house where liquor was cheaper than milk.

Through the ’90s, Trevor rose through the ranks of Special Forces, earning a reputation for wild brilliance and drunk precision. He was the kind of sergeant who could shoot the antenna off a tank while quoting Hank Williams – and then pick a fight with a general about it. That’s how he met Adolph Morrow – a by-the-book shooter who needed a dose of chaos. Trevor provided it. They fought. Then they drank. Then they never went to war without each other.

Soon, they added Thomas “Heky” Holloway – sniper, philosopher, part-time forest cryptid – and formed the infamous recon trio Pine Licks would never forget. Trevor was the wild card, the firestarter, the drunk prophet with a scope.

After the War

While Heky disappeared into the woods and Adolph turned a garage into a church of steel, Trevor just… never stopped. He didn’t quit the military. He just stopped reporting in. He drifted into Pine Licks like a fog bank of bourbon and tall tales.

Today, he shows up when he feels like it – usually Fridays – and always ends up at Rusty’s Tavern, sitting on the stool he once shot through and autographed with a .308 casing.

He trains young shooters if they can keep up. He drinks alone unless you bring Old Hatred. And every year, when the Pine Licks Shooting Championship kicks off, everyone prays he’s passed out somewhere else. Because if he’s not — he’s gonna win it blindfolded and drunk.

Connections

Trevor and Adolph share a long, loud history. If Adolph was the brakes, Trevor was the flaming gas tank. Every op they ran together was half miracle, half court-martial. Their bond runs deep — cemented in silence, gunfire, and shared bourbon-fueled wisdom.

With, it’s different. They barely talk, but they never need to. One glance. One nod. And Heky knows exactly what Trevor’s doing — and whether to duck.

RAI once tried to analyze Trevor’s neural patterns. Her systems fried. When she rebooted, she just muttered: “That unit runs on chaos.”

Legend Status

Trevor’s done things no one believes — shot down a surveillance drone while arguing with a raccoon, lit a cigar off tracer fire, and once landed a perfect bullseye mid-hiccup. He’s a walking contradiction — disaster and genius in equal parts.

His chest tattoo says “Front Toward Enemy” — upside down. His watch has exploded twice. His liver quit years ago, but he didn’t.

And if you ever need him — don’t call. Just listen. Somewhere in the distance, there’s a shot, a burp, and someone yelling “YEAAAAAH!”