helluvaoutlaw

[helluvaoutlaw]

Love it when I make fanart of my own fanfic that is still in the planing stage.

I don't usually render, but this was fun.

Lyrics from "I Can't Decide" - Scissor Sisters

Also a meme

Someone asked me if I take commissions (I don't), but I might do requests if they're small.

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey: Entry # 7

January 20, 2025, 10:00 p.m.

Three days ridin’ through the Mesa. Just me and Bombproof, with the sun burnin’ down and the wind screamin’ across the sand. The nights are cold, the days are brutal, but that’s Wrath for you.

No mercy. No handouts.

We’ve been campin’ wherever we can: under dead trees, outcroppings, anywhere that gives a bit of cover.

Last night, though, we weren’t alone.

Hellish coyotes found us. Thin as bones, eyes like fire, and teeth made for rippin’. You can smell their hunger before you see ‘em, and they don’t stop till they’ve had their fill. They came at us in a pack, snarlin’ and snappin’.

Bombproof held his ground like the beast he is, kickin’ and stompin’ while I had my blades and my gun. We fought like Hell was risin’ all around us, takin’ down as many as we could.

Eventually, the survivors figured we weren’t worth the trouble and scattered back into the dark.

We won, but it wasn’t clean. Bombproof’s got bite marks along his flank, and I’m sportin’ a few new scars myself. Nothin’ life-threatenin’, but enough to slow us down. We found a cave after that, just big enough to hunker down in for the night.

I patched Bombproof up first: he deserves that much. Cleaned the wounds, wrapped ‘em up. He let me work without a fuss, like he knows I’ll always take care of him.

Once he was good, I took care of my own cuts and bruises.

The cave ain’t much, but it’s quiet. For now, at least.

The Mesa is unforgivin’, and if you stop movin’ for too long, it finds ways to remind you who’s in charge.

Tomorrow, we ride again.

[helluvaoutlaw]

Look what I found!!! I do not know who the author of these arts.

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey: Entry #6

January 17, 2025, 9:00 p.m.

Wrath has always felt like home, in more ways than one. The unhinged chaos, the violence simmering just beneath the surface: it’s a place where the strong thrive, and the weak get crushed.

I love it here.

Or at least, I want to.

But ridin’ through this ring ain’t without its scars. It always hits harder than I’d like to admit. Every gust of hot wind, every scorched horizon, brings back what I’ve lost. The fire twister that tore through my childhood, takin’ my parents with it. The ashes of what used to be my home. Then there’s the other memory—the one I can never shake. My wife, my boy, Jackson...

Gone, ripped away by a Goetia's greed and cruelty.

It’s why I came back, though. Not for revenge this time.

Just for the ghosts.

To visit what’s left of my childhood home, maybe catch a glimpse of the life I had before everything went to Hell—before Hell became all I knew. And to see the place where I lived with them... before I failed to protect ‘em.

But first, a man’s gotta eat.

I pulled into one of the last train stops, helped Bombproof out of the wagon, and made my way through the town.

Wrath’s towns are like wounds: raw, loud, and throbbin’. I felt right at home. After findin’ a spot for Bombproof to rest, I headed for the saloon. Ordered a steak and a drink, and for a moment, things felt almost peaceful.

That is, until she showed up.

Pretty dancer, all charm and smiles. She came flirtin’ over to my table, leanin’ in close and tryin’ to get a rise outta me. I wasn’t in the mood, though, and told her as much.

Guess she wasn’t used to hearin’ “no.”

She stormed off, and next thing I knew, her boyfriend—a big, burly imp—was stompin’ over, mad as Hell. She told him I touched her ass. Wasn’t true, of course, but when does truth ever matter around here?

The riot started before I could even finish my drink. Tables flew, fists swung, and I held my own just fine. Couple scratches, nothin’ serious. But when the sheriff and his deputies came stormin’ in, it was time to make an exit.

I bailed through the window, landed clean on Bombproof’s saddle, and we galloped outta there in a cloud of dust and laughter.

What a day.

And I’d only just gotten back to Wrath.

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey Soundtrack

((Art made by))

[helluvaoutlaw]

Striker. He's too sexy and handsome. He just showed up, and that's it, he's the favorite.

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey: Entry # 5

January 16, 2025, 9:00 a.m.

Got up at first light, packed up camp, and made my way to the nearest station. Took a bit of convincing to get Bombproof on the train, but he managed. Ain’t his first time, after all.

Train’s got that rickety sway to it, and I find myself watchin’ the scenery change as we leave the Wastelands behind. The air’s already feelin’ thicker, heavier, with that Wrath stink I remember all too well. Ash, sulfur, and the faintest hint of blood: like the place itself breathes anger.

Bombproof’s in one of the livestock wagons, and I made sure he’s got enough space to stretch out. Checked on him just before we started movin’. He gave me that look of his, like he’s remindin’ me he’s tougher than I give him credit for.

Reckon this train ride’ll give me time to think. Or maybe that’s a curse. Wrath’s got its way of draggin’ up memories, whether you want ’em or not. I ain’t here to mourn the past, but ridin’ through these parts again? Can’t help but remember the fights, the lessons... and the losses.

Still, Wrath’s got its charm, if you know where to look.

The wild heat of the ring, the untamed danger, it’s all part of the draw.

For now, I’ll sit back, keep my hat pulled low, and let the train take me where it needs to. Wrath’s waitin’, and so’s whatever it’s got in store for me.

[helluvaoutlaw]

Getting ready for Valentine's day 💋

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey: Entry # 4

January 15, 2025, 3:00 p.m.

Woke up early, packin’ up what little camp we had.

Figured it’s about time to stock up on supplies before headin’ out proper. The Wastelands might’ve been quiet so far, but a fella can’t survive on luck alone.

I remembered an old trader’s post not too far off...a half-day’s ride, maybe less if Bombproof felt like stretchin’ his legs.

By mid-mornin’, we were there. The place was as I remembered it: a beat-up shack half-buried in the rocks, a crooked sign barely hangin’ by a nail. The sinner runnin’ it looked like he hadn’t seen a bath in years, but he knew how to stock the essentials.

Got myself some dried meat, a bit of grain, and a couple of fresh canteens of water. Threw in a coil of rope, too. Never know when you’ll need it. Paid up and didn’t hang around. These places ain’t for socializin’.

By midday, we were back on the trail, headin’ south toward the border of the Wrath Ring.

It’s been too long since I’ve spent any real time there, and I reckon it’s time to face those ghosts. Wrath’s got a way of diggin’ into a demon’s soul, remindin’ him of things he thought he’d left behind. For me, that’s a heap of memories I ain’t eager to sift through, but maybe it’s somethin’ I need.

I ain’t goin’ to Wrath for the bounty work or the fights this time. This trip’s about somethin’ else: figurin’ out where I stand with the pieces of my past that still cut deep. It’s gonna hurt, no doubt about it, but if I’ve learned anythin’, it’s that pain’s just another part of livin’.

[helluvaoutlaw]

[helluvaoutlaw]

banished to the p̴̺͊a̷̙͗n̴̜͘s̵̤̅e̷͎̐x̸̛̼u̷̚al ̵̲̉v̵̏͑ő̷̬ī̸̱d̴̫̆

[helluvaoutlaw]

“Ready, FIGHT!”

Battle Arena: "Cactus Gas Station" from Art of Fighting 3

Narrator’s Intro to Scene:

Round one...FIGHT!

(Mortal Kombat)

Arena Music:

My Muse’s intro:

"Guess it’s time to prove which Striker really earns the name..."

My Muse Wins:

"One Striker’s all Hell needs, and that’s me."

Draw:

"Even matched? That don’t sit right with me. Next time, I’ll end it."

My Muse Loses:

"I guess if anyone’s gonna take me down, it might as well be me."

Flawless Victory:

"Ain’t nothin’ more dangerous than me on a good day. And today was a damn fine day."

In-fight Taunts:

"C’mon, I know you can hit harder than that...I would."

"I don’t fight fair, and I know you don’t either. So let’s skip the formalities."

"All that skill and still not enough... I’m disappointed in me."

@strikers-saloon

[helluvaoutlaw]

Send “Ready, FIGHT!” For a battle intro with My Muse..

Battle Arena: (Add a picture of the Arena)

Narrator’s Intro to Scene: (if basing off a game with a Intro)

Arena Music:

My Muse’s intro:

My Muse Wins:

Draw:

My Muse Loses:

Flawless Victory:

In-fight Taunts:

[helluvaoutlaw]

The Journey: Entry # 3

January 11, 2025, 5:00 p.m.

Rode most of the day, keepin’ to the Wastelands. Ain’t much out here but jagged rocks and the occasional shadow of somethin’ big flyin’ overhead. Nothin’ come close enough to cause trouble, though, so me and Bombproof kept movin’.

Found a narrow trail windin’ through some rock spires—sharp as knives, those things. You’d think the ground itself wants to cut ya down. Been watchin’ the clouds, too. They’ve had that sickly green tint since mornin’. Sure enough, by the afternoon, the first drops started fallin’. Acid rain.

Didn’t waste no time findin’ cover. Spotted a shallow cave tucked in the side of a cliff. Not much, but enough to keep us dry and our hides intact. Bombproof wasn’t too pleased with the cramped quarters, but he’s a good boy, he settled in once I got the fire goin’. Not that I really needed to, since he's made of fire, but some extra light is always comfortin'.

Spent the rest of the day cleanin’ my gear and takin’ stock of supplies. Got enough rations to last another week, maybe two if I stretch it. Water’s runnin’ low, though. Gonna need to find a clean source soon, which ain’t exactly easy out here.

I'm afraid I'll have to make a trip downtown before moving to Wrath.

As I sat by the fire, listenin’ to the hiss of rain eatin’ away at the rocks outside, I couldn’t help but think about how quiet it’s been. No beasts, no Sinners, no bounty hunters on my tail. Feels almost unnatural, this kind of peace. But I ain’t complainin’.

Reckon we’ll head north tomorrow, see if we can find a bigger cave or maybe some game to hunt. For now, though, I’m just grateful for a dry spot to rest and Bombproof’s steady company.

[helluvaoutlaw]

(( @second-wife-playbook Cori and Striker ❤️))

"Uyuma..

Sabaha kadar kahve içelim,

Camdan dışarıyı izleyelim..

Kar sokaklara yağsın,

Sen içime yağ..."

Ahmet Batman...

01 / 01 / 2025

[helluvaoutlaw]

My Striker week 2025

Striker week 2025

Days: 3 4 6 👀

[helluvaoutlaw]

Striker week 2025 Day 1 Beans

Tradicional Art