#🌵 striker's-saloon 🐍 | darlin; can't you see you are dancing with death?

[deathshadowed]

@strikers-saloon

A wanderer, yet she didn't exactly mind the...quieter lifestyle. It was different, yes but maybe, not in a bad way. Violence once overfilled her life to the point where the cost only could be paid with her own life along with Villám's. The ring of Wrath gave the somewhat ex bounty hunter a sense of familiarity, the desert heat and atmosphere made her self bestowed exile almost like a never ending trip in the wilderness. Perhaps that what she should've done in life too, travel and survive. Enjoy the untouched land scorched by the sun.

Karma didn't shut society out completely nor she wanted to. The desire to help the less fortunate ever present, although with now less risk. She had no complaints about labor, still she was extremely careful to not damage her hands. She didn't fancy losing her natural talent even if she hasn't utilized it nearly as much as she used to, it gave a pillar of stability and safety.

The ride to the outskirts of the property was quiet, peaceful, settling on a smaller hill. The owner, an older imp has complained about hellhogs eating his crops, but he didn't have space for keeping the intruders. Therefore only one solution to get rid of the problem. Karma received plenty confused looks and warnings about bullets not being able to pierce their shell. But who said she would aim at the covered parts?

Weapon maintenance was a calming routine, paired nicely with the fiery sunset. The hogs will soon emerge after dusk. Villám's snort indicating unease was her warning of an another being near. The bone white haired woman whirled around, rifle ready, her hold firm and a confident finger already on the trigger; aiming right at the approaching...imp? Not quite.

Karma didn't speak, it wasn't her in the position needing explanation, her interest in his words indicated by not firing instinctively. So her old habits haven't really died, it seems.

[deathshadowed]

“You are hopeless.”

[deathshadowed]

@strikers-saloon

Karma, a woman, wanting to be left alone

Kept followed still.

Karma, lashing out after said man literally announced to take her job.

Striker: why are you acting like a bitch

Karma: Do you want a fucking essay on that.

[deathshadowed]

“Ah please, embodiment of death, decay here. That half insane cowboy still wants to stick it in me.”

[deathshadowed]

All it took was Striker (@strikers-saloon ) mansplaining rifles for Karma to already have second thoughts about quitting murdering people for money.

[deathshadowed]

Ghost of her old life lapped at her core, the whisper of adrenaline she deprived herself of, a show, a lasting impression in the people. A long interlocked gaze with Villám and the decision was made. The Lord dressed in leather jacket and chaps definitely a few extra pounds with all the...decoration; Karma decided to discard her own along with the saddle. The hellhorse had a similar built like Villám, seemed agile enough, she didn't take unnecessary risks or weights.

A race to the nearest town than back, her trust in her horse unwavering. Perfect harmony between the rider and the lightning fast creature, mutual bond spurred both of them unlike the Olroth excessive use of a riding crop. Whispered praises as moss green veins started to protrude slightly from the ashen skin, just a little more. The midnight mare seemed to fly at an almost impossible speed, the Lord already left in the cloud of dust.

Acidic green veins glowed brightly as the horse thundered through the finish line, taking a little time to fully come to a halt from such neckbreaking speed.

Her rider laughed with ecstasy from the thrill, a few circles of victory while waiting for the Lord's arrival. At some point she dismounted so fluidly while Villám was still basking in applause, her eyes eventually finding Striker's-

Genuine shock as he seemed to be well and actual relief despite how much of a headache he proved himself to be. She couldn't help but send a bright laugh in his direction as well.

Then a gunshot.

Karma whirled around to watch Olroth horse collapse dead into the dust while the Lord was still spitting every possible insult at the animal's corpse, his men creeping from corners, inns, her trained eyes spotted a few on rooftops as well.

"Take that horse and kill the bitch if she moves!!!" came the furious order from the fanged maw

No. She was past this. She changed her ways. Her life was peaceful. Two of them stood guard on either side of her with guns ready.

She worked hard for a secure life. Both for herself and Villám. Tremors shook her body but not her hands as a part she kept at bay fought to surface. It can't, she can't-

Villám's shrill neigh of fear echoed through the small town.

Two shots, yet they sounded as one, the ones at her side dropping dead in a second.

The demon woman wrestling with Villám's reins was the third one who perished; the ivory haired woman taking lives with the ease of breathing. From the corner of her eye she noticed one of the rooftop snipers lining up; with frightening accuracy the fourth body hit the dirt.

deathshadowed​:

It was almost time for her to disappear back to the desert, to her home as she didn’t belong. She couldn’t especially with powers beyond her control. Still, she hoped the imp, Striker she had the misfortune or rather HE had that to meet her was buried properly. She didn’t want to ride past his rotting body, sure that remorse would linger.

Villám was enjoying their last hours in this town, prancing around with imp children surrounding her, Karma couldn’t help but smile at the display and the little show she put on even without her rider. She had returned an another child yesterday, the last one missing, thankfully only a few bruises and dehydration. Still, she couldn’t exactly shake off the feeling that something was terribly off about this region as a whole.

She didn’t have the heart to announce they were leaving. Not when both the children and her horse were so happy. Instead she jumped on the playful mare with fur shimmering like oil in the blaze of suns. She was an undisputed champion of marksmanship, but among her skills came second being an extraordinary esquetarian. It was ‘made easy’ by their bond and mutual trust, but her talent was undeniable.

Suddenly the delightfully clapping children were picked up one by one, rushed inside despite their protests of wanting to watch. Did she indeed overstay her welcome and…and…she didn’t even dare to think about. But the locals weren’t coming with pitchforks ready for her. A newcomer or a visitor, Lord Olroth decided to make an appearance, Karma had heard a few rumors, whispers about the Hellhorse breeder, or better said horse stealer.

“Would rather not.”

She declined firmly as she yanked her priceless hand out of his talons, before the Lord could bring it to his maw.

“And Karma does just fine.” ‘Lady Karma’; holy chirst.

“Extraordinary beauty.” Olroth near purred, making Karma slightly guess the path she has chosen as the Lord hungrily eyed with Villám

“Not for sale. No matter the price.” she nearly snarled, a slight twitch of fingers, the familiar weight of her revolvers grounding.

“Well, there are other ways of gaining a prize like that besides money. How about a race then? Prove your mare deserves the Wrath-wide fame for being the fastest. Or is it simply born defective?” Olroth questioned smugly and Karma almost shot him dead on spot.

Villám neighed in displeasure at the insult, emerald flame eyes burning a little bit brighter at being talked about that, which seemed to amuse the Lord even further along with fueling his curiosity.

The sight was interesting, to say the least, a lord he’d care less for than the dirt he walked on(At least the dirt did something like keep the ground from not being there, the royal did jack shit in Striker’s opinion). He’d post himself up nearby a general store and watch the whole scenario unfold.

He might have issues with Karma, but even he felt insulted when the lord questioned the horse’s qualities. It maybe scared of Striker, but from one rider to another, one does not mess with the horse, and here Striker wished he had his popcorn, ready to see the lady that was so eager to get him away that she threatened violence and said such terrible things to him, he was eager to see the lord get their just desserts, knowing for a fact with how they acted, Striker believed himself to have done way less deserving of a tongue lashing before, he waited patiently for the explosion.

“Me without my camera or snacks, this is gonna be one heck of a show!”

[deathshadowed]

It was almost time for her to disappear back to the desert, to her home as she didn't belong. She couldn't especially with powers beyond her control. Still, she hoped the imp, Striker she had the misfortune or rather HE had that to meet her was buried properly. She didn't want to ride past his rotting body, sure that remorse would linger.

Villám was enjoying their last hours in this town, prancing around with imp children surrounding her, Karma couldn't help but smile at the display and the little show she put on even without her rider. She had returned an another child yesterday, the last one missing, thankfully only a few bruises and dehydration. Still, she couldn't exactly shake off the feeling that something was terribly off about this region as a whole.

She didn't have the heart to announce they were leaving. Not when both the children and her horse were so happy. Instead she jumped on the playful mare with fur shimmering like oil in the blaze of suns. She was an undisputed champion of marksmanship, but among her skills came second being an extraordinary esquetarian. It was ‘made easy’ by their bond and mutual trust, but her talent was undeniable.

Suddenly the delightfully clapping children were picked up one by one, rushed inside despite their protests of wanting to watch. Did she indeed overstay her welcome and...and...she didn't even dare to think about. But the locals weren't coming with pitchforks ready for her. A newcomer or a visitor, Lord Olroth decided to make an appearance, Karma had heard a few rumors, whispers about the Hellhorse breeder, or better said horse stealer.

“Would rather not.”

She declined firmly as she yanked her priceless hand out of his talons, before the Lord could bring it to his maw.

“And Karma does just fine.” ‘Lady Karma’; holy chirst.

"Extraordinary beauty." Olroth near purred, making Karma slightly guess the path she has chosen as the Lord hungrily eyed with Villám

“Not for sale. No matter the price.” she nearly snarled, a slight twitch of fingers, the familiar weight of her revolvers grounding.

"Well, there are other ways of gaining a prize like that besides money. How about a race then? Prove your mare deserves the Wrath-wide fame for being the fastest. Or is it simply born defective?" Olroth questioned smugly and Karma almost shot him dead on spot.

Villám neighed in displeasure at the insult, emerald flame eyes burning a little bit brighter at being talked about that, which seemed to amuse the Lord even further along with fueling his curiosity.

deathshadowed​:

Acid green eyes observed carefully, without a remark or a conclusion said out loud. So that’s where the foolish bravery came from. If one had survived too many encounters with death, they were bound to be overconfident and careless. Yet still kept his mouth running; ah not for long now anyways.

“Nah, the usual way is a warning shot just grazing the skin covering the jugular. And even that is reseved for those who are stupid enough to not steer clear of me when asked.” she wondered when will his skin follow his clothing.

Those haunting eyes eagerly drunk up every little gesture, dark satisfaction at the first dent in the larger than life overconfidence.

“Ay, ay ayy cowboy” the entity clicked its tongue with twisted playfulness, taking a step forwards.

“Nobody told you the Wrath desert is full of monsters, little one?”

Everything was dead. No sounds of other animals penetrated the supernatural pitch black darkness; deathly quiet and still, except the grass drying and disappearing as the tendrils of her shadows sought reach. The woman’s body contorted gracefully, acid green mixing with the abyss swirling her higher, at least twice her original height.

“Or you thought you’re the worst hiding out of here?” despite her state, the silent destruction, her voice remained calm only just above a whisper

She might have taken it a little too far, judging how the imp was…destined to die after being in her presence for a prolonged time, let alone touching her cursed bullet. Still, she had warned him countless times. He refused to heed them and dug his own grave, happily lying into it by himself. So the shade stayed looming as a ghastly last warning: run home and hug the ones you love one last time while you’re able.

Striker had seen his fair share of powerful entities, the showboating, and flair were not lost on him, yet he was more focused on the fact his clothing was slowly drying out and falling off him to pay too much attention to the theatrics and show that Karma was putting on, and even though he had seen it and could hear her, he was determined not to react, acting as if he had gone deaf to her flexing the power of getting him nude without even touching him.

He was thankful that his pants stayed on to the saloon, though everything had been ruined, he had plenty of spare clothing at home so he was soon suited up after a nice shower to clean off whatever remained of the day. Trying to figure out how things had gone so terribly with the fabric, he’d head to the tailor before day’s end to get himself suited up once more, blaming it on some Terror of the Wastes that tried to tear into him.

It had been a week since the incident, and even though he didn’t mention who had caused him harm when he asked around for news about a lady named Karma, the information he got in turn was generally positive, even though no one knew anything about her. Tales of her saving kids, killing vermin, sorting out rustlers, she was like a proper robin hood with how nice she’d been to people, yet all he remembers is the aggressive lady with the weird bullets and the fact she had damaged his clothing.

Soon he’d stop asking and go on with his day, wandering around town to help around the local shops as he usually did, and while near the outskirts he’d hear some commotion. There had been talks about a fancy lord coming around, which was rare as the town didn’t bow to anyone besides Satan himself, so he’d not cared to go, having seen too many (and killed a lot more) so he had his fill.

But then someone talked about the -Lady Karma- dealing with them, and it had Striker stagger, more in amazement that the crazy lady had gotten such a title in such a short time.

Since it was during the middle of the day, and people knew usually how lords acted out, most would only be looking from afar or from the windows in their homes, yet the cowboy sauntered casually in the middle of the road up to where he could hear the noise, and soon spotting the pair with their horses, though he’d keep a casual walk as if not to look like he was going to engage them, only to observe as everyone else did.

[deathshadowed]

Acid green eyes observed carefully, without a remark or a conclusion said out loud. So that's where the foolish bravery came from. If one had survived too many encounters with death, they were bound to be overconfident and careless. Yet still kept his mouth running; ah not for long now anyways.

“Nah, the usual way is a warning shot just grazing the skin covering the jugular. And even that is reseved for those who are stupid enough to not steer clear of me when asked.” she wondered when will his skin follow his clothing.

Those haunting eyes eagerly drunk up every little gesture, dark satisfaction at the first dent in the larger than life overconfidence.

“Ay, ay ayy cowboy” the entity clicked its tongue with twisted playfulness, taking a step forwards.

“Nobody told you the Wrath desert is full of monsters, little one?”

Everything was dead. No sounds of other animals penetrated the supernatural pitch black darkness; deathly quiet and still, except the grass drying and disappearing as the tendrils of her shadows sought reach. The woman's body contorted gracefully, acid green mixing with the abyss swirling her higher, at least twice her original height.

“Or you thought you're the worst hiding out of here?” despite her state, the silent destruction, her voice remained calm only just above a whisper

She might have taken it a little too far, judging how the imp was...destined to die after being in her presence for a prolonged time, let alone touching her cursed bullet. Still, she had warned him countless times. He refused to heed them and dug his own grave, happily lying into it by himself. So the shade stayed looming as a ghastly last warning: run home and hug the ones you love one last time while you're able.

deathshadowed​:

“I just want to be fucking left alone to do my fucking job, why is it so hard to understand?!” long fingers ran through her bone white hair in aggravation; was this really a hard concept?

“I don’t owe you an answer. You don’t know shit about me, my experience or my life. You assumed I don’t even recognize a curve in the barrel for the fucks sake.”

“Maybe because I don’t need to eat and want to practice my aim instead?” Karma raised an eyebrow, trying to keep shadows, mist at bay along with her temper ��� which was quite new. Then she noticed him fiddling with the bullet. What in the everloving fuck.

“DON’T TOUCH THAT!” she didn’t remember the last time she actually yelled at someone, the acid green bullet reflexively caught after tossed, then dissolving into nothing at last

“I take you as suicidal because everything about this, about me screams death yet you’re still here.” Karma growled, why can’t her efforts to not kill him even accidentally be at least appreciated the smallest amount?! Surely the atmosphere was screaming danger yet he was still pushing, still purposely getting on her wrong side and she couldn’t understand how someone could be so blind.

And it all went up in smoke the second he opened his mouth again. “You doubted me first. And I am pissed because you don’t respect my boundaries or wishes to be left alone. You don’t have to know the reason to back off when asked.” an indeed deathly silence followed before a dangerously calm “So now you doubt my marksmanship too?” Alright then.

“Want to see why? Then fuckin’ watch.” the dam broke at last, her talent getting insulted was simply too much. A few moments to calm her mind, she didn’t shoot out of anger. No that would only open the door for mistakes and miscalculations.

“Villám.” steady and calm, a nod towards the mare as a sign to begin. The ebony horse’s shill neigh echoed through the desert, making the entrance guarding hog move at the sudden sound coming from too close.

Slightly obscured by a rock, not like it was protection. A step forward turned into a whirl, the woman a shadowy mass for a second during firing, the movement altering the bullet’s course to curve right behind the rock for the boar to drop dead. The sound followed a second later.

Without protection, the remaining took off again, crosshair eyes taking them in for an estimate. Wielding two guns clearly showed incredible ambidexterity, there wasn’t even a second pause in the surgical precision shots. The last one was getting a little too far, Karma grabbed the faulty rifle, from Villám thankfully the bolt closed on the round now, a few quick strides and a wrong position if the weapon was working flawlessly. Breathe in, one last adjustment with determination blazing in crosshair eye, breathe out. The scurry of legs coming to a permanent halt.

Satisfaction flooded her at the successful hunt, easing her mind.

“ ‘Fancy’ bullets or a faulty rifle; doesn’t matter. Because it ain’t those what are special but me. Because I am the best marksman ever lived and rode across afterlife.” and with the previous demonstration she hoped she proved that statement true.

“Now leave. My…powers cause everything and everyone to wither in my presence. I can’t control it and you will die- where the fuck is your shirt.”

How many times have Striker met people who said they were death incarnate?

How many have said they’d be destroying everyone who crosses them or try to fuck with them?

He’d lost count by now and with his constant brushes against death he’d lost some feeling to it, a sad reality when one is hunted nearly 24/7 and with a bounty that would get even the most loyal of allies to contemplate where to stick the knife. It was old hat for the cowboy that raw unkempt rage in others as a sign that they weren’t able to control their talent, yet it was a more curious and pleasant smile that crept over his face when he noticed how skilled she was.

He was about to answer her about -the best marksman- but he was cut short at her explanation about powers of withering, only to again when given the opportunity, having to look down at himself and notice his shirt had disintegrated itself off of him. “Oh… guess that rottin’ boar was a lot worse for mah clothin’…”

The scars littered his torso on full display, perhaps a sign that he was accustomed to death, and point to why he was less afraid than most common folk when facing someone who has the rage to spare and a gun to shoot.

The effects of the withering were lost on him, he knew what she said, but he couldn’t understand as she and her horse were okay, and he was not having any ill effects of it, though he’d give his pants a little touch. It felt rather old, even though he had just bought them last week.

“Maybe it’s best ah head back to mah saloon…” He’d place his hands on his belt, it was dry, and it was one of his favorite ones too, he’d keep it oiled and balmed every day almost, he had no idea what was going on until he’d see a part of it start to chip. He’d look around them, the grass did seem a bit drier around where she had been and cleared his throat before starting to take a few steps back, in fear of losing more clothing and ending up naked on the way home.

“If it’s ya doin’ consider this a friendly gesture of me not chargin’ ya for messin’ up my clothin’, but ya got a fancy way of tryin’ to get folk away from ya.” Acted as if the whole -get the fuck away from me- part was just friendly banter, but the ability to ruin his clothing had crossed a line.

He’d soon be on his way back home, having to get to Bombproof asap so he’d get to the tailors before closing, and of course, try to get news on this new lady that’d be roaming the Wrath Ring.

[deathshadowed]

“I just want to be fucking left alone to do my fucking job, why is it so hard to understand?!” long fingers ran through her bone white hair in aggravation; was this really a hard concept?

“I don't owe you an answer. You don't know shit about me, my experience or my life. You assumed I don't even recognize a curve in the barrel for the fucks sake.”

“Maybe because I don't need to eat and want to practice my aim instead?” Karma raised an eyebrow, trying to keep shadows, mist at bay along with her temper ... which was quite new. Then she noticed him fiddling with the bullet. What in the everloving fuck.

“DON'T TOUCH THAT!” she didn't remember the last time she actually yelled at someone, the acid green bullet reflexively caught after tossed, then dissolving into nothing at last

“I take you as suicidal because everything about this, about me screams death yet you're still here.” Karma growled, why can't her efforts to not kill him even accidentally be at least appreciated the smallest amount?! Surely the atmosphere was screaming danger yet he was still pushing, still purposely getting on her wrong side and she couldn't understand how someone could be so blind.

And it all went up in smoke the second he opened his mouth again. “You doubted me first. And I am pissed because you don't respect my boundaries or wishes to be left alone. You don't have to know the reason to back off when asked.” an indeed deathly silence followed before a dangerously calm “So now you doubt my marksmanship too?” Alright then.

“Want to see why? Then fuckin’ watch.” the dam broke at last, her talent getting insulted was simply too much. A few moments to calm her mind, she didn't shoot out of anger. No that would only open the door for mistakes and miscalculations.

“Villám.” steady and calm, a nod towards the mare as a sign to begin. The ebony horse's shill neigh echoed through the desert, making the entrance guarding hog move at the sudden sound coming from too close.

Slightly obscured by a rock, not like it was protection. A step forward turned into a whirl, the woman a shadowy mass for a second during firing, the movement altering the bullet's course to curve right behind the rock for the boar to drop dead. The sound followed a second later.

Without protection, the remaining took off again, crosshair eyes taking them in for an estimate. Wielding two guns clearly showed incredible ambidexterity, there wasn't even a second pause in the surgical precision shots. The last one was getting a little too far, Karma grabbed the faulty rifle, from Villám thankfully the bolt closed on the round now, a few quick strides and a wrong position if the weapon was working flawlessly. Breathe in, one last adjustment with determination blazing in crosshair eye, breathe out. The scurry of legs coming to a permanent halt.

Satisfaction flooded her at the successful hunt, easing her mind.

“ ‘Fancy’ bullets or a faulty rifle; doesn't matter. Because it ain't those what are special but me. Because I am the best marksman ever lived and rode across afterlife.” and with the previous demonstration she hoped she proved that statement true.

“Now leave. My...powers cause everything and everyone to wither in my presence. I can't control it and you will die- where the fuck is your shirt.”

deathshadowed​:

She didn’t wait for an answer but immediately took off with Villám, who also seemed glad to put distance between them. The pace relatively slow compared what she could achieve, the slowly dropping veil of darkness bringing a familiar sense of comfort and peace at last.

“Ezt a faszfejet. Fogadjunk, hogy feldobja a talpát a rohadt hústól.” (This dickhead. I bet he will kick the bucket from the rotten meat) Karma sighed, not like she didn’t warn him about it. She wanted to finish this as soon as possible, deciding to not bother with tracks but let her powers do the job instead.

Shadows aided her instead of hiding her prey, their presence like a beacon in the abyss. After the direction remained unchanging, probably leading to their hideout her vision returned to normal, adjusting Villám to stay next to the tracks.

“You stink like a corpse left out in the heat for…approximately five days.” Karma spoke without turning around as the unwanted company caught up

“Oh you fucking idiot.” she groaned when she realized the main source of the smell, the body already in a state of decomposition. Maybe he will drop the corpse when his clothes are drenched in its fluids.

Villám’s dislike made itself known as the not quite imp approached, Karma didn’t quite understand the reason behind her unease as he was far from the scariest creature they’ve encountered; still her safety was always priority.

“Mindjárt végzünk, nem lesz semmi baj. Tudod, hogy nem hagyom.” (We are almost done, don’t worry. You know I wouldn’t allow you to be hurt.) Karma whispered gently as she steered back the emerald eyed horse back to the path leading to the end of this

“Sure, how I did not think of shooting like mad for them to scatter again instead of following them back to a hiding place where their movement is limited. What a glorious idea.” she couldn’t have kept the venom out of her voice even if she wanted to; frequently reminding herself that the days when she shot someone to do herself a favor are over. She sort of wished they weren’t.

Once again checking for the sure signs of life around the previously pinpointed cave, she didn’t want to ride Villám up there out of worry she might injure her ankle in the darkness- when the last words caught up with her.

“The fuck did you say you smarmy piece of shit?” Karma whipped around, half of her face still covered by shadows, darkness swirling around the edges of a milky white eye. Shadows seemed to whisper, darken even more and cover any source of light. She dismounted faster than humanly possible, swept across the distance like an acid green swirl of shadows and grabbed his bandana in a furious grip.

“Is it because I have a pair of tits and refuse to roll in the mud with animals because I have a fucking impeccable aim?” a harsh tug, the color slowly filling the empty eye again

“Is it because your inferiority complex caused by generational trauma which I’m not responsible for, nor I give a shit if you sabotage MY livelihood because of that.” the shadows’ whisper became constant, their swirl threatening to almost touch

“And if you’re this suicidal, then be a man enough to off yourself instead provoking it out of others.” she delivered perhaps with more brutality than she originally wanted to; the dead boar fall apart rotten meat sliding from its skeleton. She quickly shoved the imp hybrid as far as she could upon witnessing.

“Now fuck off. You will end up like that if you’re in my presence for too long, even if I don’t want to.”

Striker would have kept smiling if it weren’t for the stench that seemed to explode from the carcass, now suddenly falling asunder, he’d dropped it after all the tugging and pulling that Karma did to him, it was not the first time someone angry had acted so aggressively toward him, though it was interesting how everyone went for the bandana, guessing it acted like a handle for anyone who wanted to grab him.

“You havin’ great tits and a nice ass means jack shit to me, it’s that attitude ya keep carryin’ around wielding like a dick that’s makin’ me think you’re just actin’ out.” He understood everyone had their reason to be angry, but the hostility he found in her was beyond him, and it was obvious he was not the reason she was so angry, but she was seemingly using it as an outlet, so since he wasn’t dead yet, he’d continue.

Leaning down he’d pick up the odd-looking bullet that tumbled out of the rotting skull, his curiosity had him less squeamish about touching it, but he’d start walking her, looking no worse for wear, though his outfit had the icky stench from the body now, he held the bullet aloft and talked aloud.

“Now ya are a curious one, angry, pissed off, shootin’ animals with no intent on eatin’, even if it’s for a job anyone would jump on the chance for meat and bones, yet you are more intent on sayin’ ah should kill myself.”

If she turned around to face him, he’d be flicking the bullet over to her, if not, he’d still be playing around with it between his fingers. Whatever was causing the animal to decompose so quickly was not known to Striker, the powers that Karma had just didn’t seem to affect him.

“I ain’t got a superiority complex, ah know my skill, what ah don’t know is why you have to be so fuckin’ pissed for me givin’ back the same energy ya givin’ off, talkin’ like ya know better just because ya want to be broody on ya special horse, havin’ bullets that decompose targets, why don’t ya say why you’re so special and maybe ah could start showin’ the proper respect, for all ah have seen is a pissy attitude and nothin’ else but fancy bullets.”

He wasn’t holding his words, though he was careful not to go too terrible, he wanted to know them and not make an enemy, though they weren’t making it easy for him, so he’d see if he could tease out a real response.

[deathshadowed]

She didn't wait for an answer but immediately took off with Villám, who also seemed glad to put distance between them. The pace relatively slow compared what she could achieve, the slowly dropping veil of darkness bringing a familiar sense of comfort and peace at last.

“Ezt a faszfejet. Fogadjunk, hogy feldobja a talpát a rohadt hústól.” (This dickhead. I bet he will kick the bucket from the rotten meat) Karma sighed, not like she didn't warn him about it. She wanted to finish this as soon as possible, deciding to not bother with tracks but let her powers do the job instead.

Shadows aided her instead of hiding her prey, their presence like a beacon in the abyss. After the direction remained unchanging, probably leading to their hideout her vision returned to normal, adjusting Villám to stay next to the tracks.

“You stink like a corpse left out in the heat for...approximately five days.” Karma spoke without turning around as the unwanted company caught up

“Oh you fucking idiot.” she groaned when she realized the main source of the smell, the body already in a state of decomposition. Maybe he will drop the corpse when his clothes are drenched in its fluids.

Villám's dislike made itself known as the not quite imp approached, Karma didn't quite understand the reason behind her unease as he was far from the scariest creature they've encountered; still her safety was always priority.

“Mindjárt végzünk, nem lesz semmi baj. Tudod, hogy nem hagyom.” (We are almost done, don't worry. You know I wouldn't allow you to be hurt.) Karma whispered gently as she steered back the emerald eyed horse back to the path leading to the end of this

“Sure, how I did not think of shooting like mad for them to scatter again instead of following them back to a hiding place where their movement is limited. What a glorious idea.” she couldn't have kept the venom out of her voice even if she wanted to; frequently reminding herself that the days when she shot someone to do herself a favor are over. She sort of wished they weren't.

Once again checking for the sure signs of life around the previously pinpointed cave, she didn't want to ride Villám up there out of worry she might injure her ankle in the darkness- when the last words caught up with her.

“The fuck did you say you smarmy piece of shit?” Karma whipped around, half of her face still covered by shadows, darkness swirling around the edges of a milky white eye. Shadows seemed to whisper, darken even more and cover any source of light. She dismounted faster than humanly possible, swept across the distance like an acid green swirl of shadows and grabbed his bandana in a furious grip.

“Is it because I have a pair of tits and refuse to roll in the mud with animals because I have a fucking impeccable aim?” a harsh tug, the color slowly filling the empty eye again

“Is it because your inferiority complex caused by generational trauma which I'm not responsible for, nor I give a shit if you sabotage MY livelihood because of that.” the shadows' whisper became constant, their swirl threatening to almost touch

“And if you're this suicidal, then be a man enough to off yourself instead provoking it out of others.” she delivered perhaps with more brutality than she originally wanted to; the dead boar fall apart rotten meat sliding from its skeleton. She quickly shoved the imp hybrid as far as she could upon witnessing.

“Now fuck off. You will end up like that if you're in my presence for too long, even if I don't want to.”

deathshadowed​:

She stayed silent, not feeling any need to uncover any part of her story, perfectly content with leaving Villám’s origins in the shadows. The stares was what she grew used to, the occasional comments…those were the times when she had to remind herself that she’s retired.

“Wrong wording on my part.” well, she wasn’t exactly social and thought a bent barrel was an already obvious setback “ The bolt is an another problem I realized as I’ve cleaned and oiled it for nothing.” voice bordering on a growl now “It fires now, but the ejector channel was filled with rust which resulted the bolt not closing on a live round at first. Even now the movent isn’t smooth nor fast enough for my style.” good to know the already obvious that the old imp was such a traditional believer of getting rid of those damned animals using the common method.

“The curve is something I could’ve worked with, but it compared with the defective bolt is too much even for me. So this can go back to being a now polished table leg or whatever it was.”

The being only stared with an occasional twitch of her facial muscles at the offer and the audacity, a struggle to keep the darkness always wanting to creep out firmly locked inside. She didn’t want to inflict anything permanent…yet.

“So you slither here unannounced and unwanted, insult me by pointing out a flaw which even my horse can see,” Villám quietly neighed in agreement “graciosly offer to not take my payment for the bloody job I’ve been hired to do.” Karma quite literally hissed, discarding the faulty rifle for her own revolvers in pristine condition, half of her attention already trained on the growing noise and the dry rattling of crops

“Still yes, pick your carcass. Villám is built for speed anyway, not for transporting them.” the tiny hill gave her the upper hand in vision, one of the largest already feasting

“Shut up, don’t get in my way, don’t question my choices, don’t go near my horse and let me work in peace.” the ivory haired woman named her terms quickly before the swift and silent ascend. She needed a clear head, it was almost completely dark and the soon to be targets were moving. A deep breath, the familiar feeling of both of her beloved revolvers; screw Old Jack and his relic rifle. She’s not going to roll in the mud with animals.

The first shot a thunder in the previous silence, the sickly green bullet going through the hog’s eye; by the time it dropped dead, the trick had been performed again from a different angle she maneuvered herself into. The rest decided to flee back into the night, her left eye briefly turning empty white to sense the direction they ran.

“You’ve got two to pick from. Get rid of its head as quickly as possible along with any discolored meat.” Karma warned “For the rest, I’m going on a hunt. Alone.”

Striker listened well whenever he met someone worth knowing, and already from the first few seconds of her talking he had decided that she was far above whatever else was around in the ring and he was intending on making sure to know her better, even as she growled and sounded like she was ready to kill him(He had gotten worse reactions before and it had not stopped him).

His smile never faltered as he saw her and the horse run away towards the crops, the guns giving off a strange noise and the boars dropping instantly had him curious enough to head to them first before noting where she had headed off. Without a scared horse and annoyed rider staring him down, he was quick and nimble to do his work, though he had dragged both of them out of the crops before choosing the smaller of the two(as he was intending on following her first). He left it intact as he was curious what would happen if he didn’t take out the bullet, he didn’t ask for a boar for his hunger, more to see what he’d get away with from them.

Even with her out of sight, he could easily follow her and the boar trails in the dirt, the occasional noise and dust cloud was easy for him to see, so he’d soon be upon her spot again, still carrying the one boar over his shoulder, that he had to admit had started to feel strange, as well as give off an odd smell. -Is this the reason she told me to cut off the head? What kind of bullet is this?-

She was pretty at a distance as well, here he couldn’t hear her growling nor see the horse being scared of him, he wondered if she had noticed him following or if she had to keep note of her horse reacting to him. Either way, he was simply walking over again, this time he chuckled a decent distance away, so she could not complain about him sneaking up on her, nor he claiming(as much as he might want to) that she was a poor tracker to be walked up upon by an imp carrying a carcass.

“Gotta say your lonesome hunt haven’t let plenty of boars in your wake. Have you ever hunted these things before or are ya just used to pest control?” He knew he was only going to get her angry for antagonizing her, but he was more than happy to humble someone or see how much it took before they’d shoot.

He’d look around, he could see a rocky outcropping, and from experience know that Hellboars enjoyed finding places to hide amongst the rock, and if there were a cave, they’d be darn sure to hide in there, leaving one outside, usually the one big enough to cover the entrance, they did have the hide coloration of rock to blend in, so it’d be difficult for newbies, though nothing pointed to her being any of the sorts, though perhaps hunting Hellboar would be new to her.

“I’ve decided to drop the offer and instead hunt boars by myself as well, and I so happen to know where a group is… might be the same you’re tryin’ to hunt, but I’m not sure, you still on the track of them?”

[deathshadowed]

She stayed silent, not feeling any need to uncover any part of her story, perfectly content with leaving Villám's origins in the shadows. The stares was what she grew used to, the occasional comments...those were the times when she had to remind herself that she's retired.

“Wrong wording on my part.” well, she wasn't exactly social and thought a bent barrel was an already obvious setback “ The bolt is an another problem I realized as I've cleaned and oiled it for nothing.” voice bordering on a growl now “It fires now, but the ejector channel was filled with rust which resulted the bolt not closing on a live round at first. Even now the movement isn't smooth nor fast enough for my style.” good to know the already obvious that the old imp was such a traditional believer of getting rid of those damned animals using the common method.

“The curve is something I could've worked with, but it compared with the defective bolt is too much even for me. So this can go back to being a now polished table leg or whatever it was.”

The being only stared with an occasional twitch of her facial muscles at the offer and the audacity, a struggle to keep the darkness always wanting to creep out firmly locked inside. She didn't want to inflict anything permanent...yet.

“So you slither here unannounced and unwanted, insult me by pointing out a flaw which even my horse can see,” Villám quietly neighed in agreement “graciosly offer to not take my payment for the bloody job I've been hired to do.” Karma quite literally hissed, discarding the faulty rifle for her own revolvers in pristine condition, half of her attention already trained on the growing noise and the dry rattling of crops

“Still yes, pick your carcass. Villám is built for speed anyway, not for transporting them.” the tiny hill gave her the upper hand in vision, one of the largest already feasting

“Shut up, don't get in my way, don't question my choices, don't go near my horse and let me work in peace.” the ivory haired woman named her terms quickly before the swift and silent ascend. She needed a clear head, it was almost completely dark and the soon to be targets were moving. A deep breath, the familiar feeling of both of her beloved revolvers; screw Old Jack and his relic rifle. She's not going to roll in the mud with animals.

The first shot a thunder in the previous silence, the sickly green bullet going through the hog's eye; by the time it dropped dead, the trick had been performed again from a different angle she maneuvered herself into. The rest decided to flee back into the night, her left eye briefly turning empty white to sense the direction they ran.

“You've got two to pick from. Get rid of its head as quickly as possible along with any discolored meat.” Karma warned “For the rest, I'm going on a hunt. Alone.”

deathshadowed​:

The faintest twitch of her eyebrow at the admission of sneaking up; no shit. She listened silent and blank, unmoving except a brief flick of eyes quicker than a blink to assess him fully. She still could feel unease radiate from Villám by the newcomer’s presence, their connection survived even death.

“Nyugalom.” (Easy.) her tone warm and even to calm the horse, dismounting with one fluid motion, not in the slightest quiver in her aim. The emerald flame eyed mare gracefully took shelter behind her rider, more reason to assess the stranger a bit harshly than she usually did.

“You are rather calm despite a weapon pointed at you. At this range even if I wasn’t the best shot around I wouldn’t miss.” she stated, the conclusion that he must be used to situations like this, unsaid “If you were approaching with the hope of a quick roll, then you already would be bolting halfway through the field screaming every possible curse.”

The rifle releasing the imp from its crosshairs at last, but not exactly set aside.

“What I don’t know yet is why my horse is so uneasy in your presence.” the other crosshair hasn’t lifted from him; the scar around her eye emitting a faint green glow in the approaching dusk

“Karma.” she replied, soon she was gone, no need to go into details why she was new

“The owner, Old Jack has a hellhog problem nobody took care of. That’s what I’m doing here. With a weapon maintenance as bonus. It still pulls a bit to the right though. My guess that the bolt has been damaged, deformed or simply eroded.” acid green eyes gestuted at the old hunting rifle given by the owner for the task; she still hit the mark with weapons in worse condition, she only needed a few adjustments to her aim to accommodate the faulty weapon

Striker had been on the working end of a rifle plenty of times to know the feel of squeezing the trigger at someone, and on the business end to know how to get himself away from the wrath that held the trigger hostage, that and a healthy feel of living on borrowed time made him more than careless, almost to the point of scary, letting people think he might be more powerful than a simple imp.

“Because it ain’t a horse of Wrath, how ya got one down here surprises me almost as much as I did you, not many got a connection like that.” He’d look down at the gun and give a quick laugh, the gun was in terrible condition.

“See he gave ya a gun that’s older than he is, that relic from the imp uprising… If it were the bolt, you’d not be able to fire that thing, If it bends to the right, it’s the bore. I could even see from where ah stood that the barrel was bent, he’d probably used it to prop up somethin’.” Striker knew his way around guns, having spent most of his life with them it was second nature to him to diagnose them, he could have been a successful gunsmith if he had chosen a more relaxing career choice.

“Unless ya got a hammer forge, that thing won’t shoot straight no matter how hard ya bend or push, but it ain’t obstructed, so ya shots will fly.” He’d look between Karma and her horse, raising a brow at exactly how it seemed they were wary of him. He’d take a few steps back and keep his tail low to the ground, hoping that with less of him, they’d relax more.

“If he’s got an issue with boars, I can help, the reason why ah came over here in the first place, and consider it a friendly gesture, ah won’t even take any of the rewards he might want to give you for the job, long as ah get my pick of a boar once we’re done, sounds good?”

[deathshadowed]

The faintest twitch of her eyebrow at the admission of sneaking up; no shit. She listened silent and blank, unmoving except a brief flick of eyes quicker than a blink to assess him fully. She still could feel unease radiate from Villám by the newcomer's presence, their connection survived even death.

“Nyugalom.” (Easy.) her tone warm and even to calm the horse, dismounting with one fluid motion, not in the slightest quiver in her aim. The emerald flame eyed mare gracefully took shelter behind her rider, more reason to assess the stranger a bit harshly than she usually did.

“You are rather calm despite a weapon pointed at you. At this range even if I wasn't the best shot around I wouldn't miss.” she stated, the conclusion that he must be used to situations like this, unsaid “If you were approaching with the hope of a quick roll, then you already would be bolting halfway through the field screaming every possible curse.”

The rifle releasing the imp from its crosshairs at last, but not exactly set aside.

“What I don't know yet is why my horse is so uneasy in your presence.” the other crosshair hasn't lifted from him; the scar around her eye emitting a faint green glow in the approaching dusk

“Karma.” she replied, soon she was gone, no need to go into details why she was new

“The owner, Old Jack has a hellhog problem nobody took care of. That's what I'm doing here. With a weapon maintenance as bonus. It still pulls a bit to the right though. My guess that the bolt has been damaged, deformed or simply eroded.” acid green eyes gestuted at the old hunting rifle given by the owner for the task; she still hit the mark with weapons in worse condition, she only needed a few adjustments to her aim to accommodate the faulty weapon

@strikers-saloon

A wanderer, yet she didn't exactly mind the...quieter lifestyle. It was different, yes but maybe, not in a bad way. Violence once overfilled her life to the point where the cost only could be paid with her own life along with Villám's. The ring of Wrath gave the somewhat ex bounty hunter a sense of familiarity, the desert heat and atmosphere made her self bestowed exile almost like a never ending trip in the wilderness. Perhaps that what she should've done in life too, travel and survive. Enjoy the untouched land scorched by the sun.

Karma didn't shut society out completely nor she wanted to. The desire to help the less fortunate ever present, although with now less risk. She had no complaints about labor, still she was extremely careful to not damage her hands. She didn't fancy losing her natural talent even if she hasn't utilized it nearly as much as she used to, it gave a pillar of stability and safety.

The ride to the outskirts of the property was quiet, peaceful, settling on a smaller hill. The owner, an older imp has complained about hellhogs eating his crops, but he didn't have space for keeping the intruders. Therefore only one solution to get rid of the problem. Karma received plenty confused looks and warnings about bullets not being able to pierce their shell. But who said she would aim at the covered parts?

Weapon maintenance was a calming routine, paired nicely with the fiery sunset. The hogs will soon emerge after dusk. Villám's snort indicating unease was her warning of an another being near. The bone white haired woman whirled around, rifle ready, her hold firm and a confident finger already on the trigger; aiming right at the approaching...imp? Not quite.

Karma didn't speak, it wasn't her in the position needing explanation, her interest in his words indicated by not firing instinctively. So her old habits haven't really died, it seems.