[Other FULL] Gunpowder (M) (IC)

JukeboxTheGhoul · Aug 4, 2016

ANIMA

[S-HIGHLIGHT]Music[/S-HIGHLIGHT]
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Spoiler:

The man listened to the speech. Recently disheartened in his faith, piety had left a gaping hole in his life. Yet life must go on, he had joined in the business to bring about the comeuppance of criminals and sinners. It was a way to do God's bidding while still gaining some money. The agency didn't only give him sinners to hunt, he wasn't no Ezekiel, in more ways than one. All the same, he needed money.

Ian wished he could have said he was scouting out the meeting but to be honest he didn't know where he was. With nothing to do, his mind was dancing with the devil. He didn't have friends, they were all believers who shunned him for leaving the church. He didn't even have a God to turn to. He sought to numb the mind. Poison was what he needed, however the thought of death without heaven was a chilling thought. He opted for alcohol.

He ended up staggering down the street, throwing up a lot of the beer. He had already drank four bottles. He began dragging his face against the wall and closing his eyes. When he had opened them, he found himself looking at the ground, slumped over a set of stone stairs. He picked himself up. Feeling too wonky to stand up, he sat down on the step. Through a haze, he saw a large crowd of people. The faces swirled and blurred but he heard most of what they were saying. He got that they were slamming the church so he cheered out when they mentioned about the tithing and the lavishness of the church. Then this black haired man with one eye came on stage, ranting about the church. He thought about the one eye again. He had a scrunched up poster in his pocket the took out. On the scruffy piece paper had a picture on it and Ian squinted. This guy was the target so why was his cause so compelling? A fair god who understood that life here in the south is hell.

Shadow was packing up the stadium, folding the pieces of wood and cardboard together. Anima was unravelling the last of his bandages. The cold shade provided by a stark night had washed out the landscape and drained the colour out of it leaving a drab moist atmosphere. She moved on to one of the last stage quarter. A shuffling of gravelly stones came from behind her. The movement was sluggish, sloppy and slow, she let them get near. She heard a click from the hammer of a gun. Turning around, the stench of cheap liquor hit her right in the face. The man's posture was crooked and twisted, a free arm swung back and forth, the other shakily holding up the gun. He tried to straighten himself, his gun-arm wobbling. He reached in to the pocket of his beige trench coat and pulled out a brown piece of paper with a remarkably skilled drawing of Anima and Shadow on it.

His speech was thankfully comprehensible, "You're both wanted, I'm arresting you for the sins you have committed!" He spat while his words were full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Anima paused, he placed his bandages on the table, his scars and burns still showing. He had heard the man from inside the gun shop. He donned a personable, mellow voice and got up from his chair and went outside, standing above the bounty hunter. "Sins? I disagree." Startled, the man jabbed his gun at Anima. Ian just wanted to get this over with, capture him, and get his money before he could think too much. Anima continued walking towards the man, "What the church does, that is sinful."
Ian felt uneasy, he knew in his heart that this freak was right... but he couldn't be swayed. "If you come with me, there won't be a fire fight."

"Oooh, a fire fight? I'm so afraid. No, I'm afraid, you are severely outnumbered."
Martirio and Altan saw the man, they stopped packing up. Martirio put down the box and glanced at Altan. He pulled up the side of his plain clothes to reveal a concealed dagger. Altan put aside the square column and gathered a drop of blood on the tip of his finger. They turned and came to Anima's side, covering his flanks. Trembling, he felt like he was choking, he hadn't thought this through, it was too risky. Too much money, too risky. He wasn't thinking straight. His head felt heavy with blood. He grimaced and put his palm to his forehead. Anima saw this and indicated his head to one side, that was all he needed to do to grab Altan's attention. He then put his tongue between his teeth and went "Tst!" Almost immediately, Ian's head stopped pounding.

"Come on, we all know that you don't really believe you were going to win? I saw you at the back today. I heard you cheer at what I believe in. I'll tell you this." Anima placed two fingers over the middle of his chest. "I believe."
Shadow was still standing there. She looked at Anima who met her eyes. She nodded. "I believe." She turned to look at Ian.
Altan echoed. "I believe."
Martirio affirmed, "I believe."

Ian screamed. He pulled the trigger of his gun. The projectile went between Anima's side and his raised arm. He didn't flinch. Martirio charged forward, rapidly descending the wooden steps two at a time. Ian fired again. This time, he was 2 metres away, so it was inevitably going to hit.
It didn't. Martirio took out his dagger at lightning speed, intercepting the bullet, he deflected it. He rushed at him, raising his weapon and then dug the blade in to Ian's gun hand. Blood boiled up from the wound like bubbles. In pain, he yanked back his hand which unzipped his flesh leaving a meaty gash. He dropped his gun and held his hand. Martirio grappled the man's healthy hand and tore it from the other, bending it behind his back. Altan leapt from the stage and took the bloody arm. While it was easy to restrain him, he was seriously drunk. Anima slid down off the raised platform, striding forward. Ian had read warnings on his poster. They said, never let him come close to your eyes. He forced his eyes shut and held his head away. Altan manipulated the blood from his wound to fly from his wound up to his neck, forcing him to align his head forward. He leant over to him, and activated his eye. It began to swirl in to gold. On Ian's eyelids, little bows of blood formed over his eye socket like bridges, they sunk in his eyelashes and peeled his eye lids away from each other, opening his eye to Anima's eye.

When they were done, Ian opened his eyes again, to the face of the prophet. The church, the representatives of God, were false, they lied and stole from me. God reaped a soul that I so desperately want back, they couldn't bring her back, no one could. They are sinners! Thou shalt not steal! Thou shalt bear not false witness! If they do not follow there own rules, I shalt not either.
"I believe." He announced before falling to unconciousness.

Sonata · Aug 25, 2016

'Deliverance'

Jebediah Kleutsch, Bounty Hunter
Level 3, Air and Water, $1,320
The Place Between

"My husband." Lucretia smiled and took a step towards her old lover.

"I didn't think... I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. Even as I travelled through this place - even as you were on my mind for every second I never... Oh how I've missed you so."

Jebediah fell to his knees in front of his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist as tightly as he could, reassuring himself that she was indeed real.

"Jebediah." The woman removed the man's hat and placed it upon her own head before running her hands through his slicked back hair. "Even when you couldn't see us, we were watching. We've always been there with you, just as I had promised to you. Through the good and the bad, Shiloh and I have stood next to you, pushing you, pressing you, believing in you."

Jebediah buried his face in Lucretia's silken gown, drying his tears with the fabric as he took in the perfume of it. Her words melted like warm caramels in his ears.

"I know. I felt you both. I've heard you both. When all hope seemed to be lost, the thoughts of you two were what brought me back to my feet every time."

Jeb turned his head to the side, as the snot began to drip from his nose he refused to let it fall on the beautiful gown which his wife now wore. It was only then that he noticed another figure in the distance. Slightly shorter than his wife, and not anyone he immediately recognized. But after his eyes had adjusted to the beautiful orange-ish hew that surrounded her he felt that he recognized the figure.

"Shiloh."

Though she had never grown out of infancy, here she was now a fully grown young woman nearly the same age as her mother. Jebediah rose to his feet, and took a few hesitant steps towards the woman.

"Shiloh, that is... that is you, isn't it?" He looked over to his wife for any reassurance that this was indeed who he was heading towards, but Lucretia simply smiled.

"Jebediah. Daddy."

The younger girl had a smile seemingly etched onto her face, lines permanently folded at the corners of her mouth. Her lips parted ever so slightly in the middle, the corners never losing their form as the words escaped her mouth.

"I finally... I finally have a chance to see you." Jebediah kneeled in front of his daughter, his hands cupped around her face as he took in all of her features. Her mother's flawless skin, slender lips and elf-like ears and her father's nose, eyes and jaw. "You're all grown up, all without me... I'm so sorry..."

The girl shook her head. "It's okay daddy. After I died, I almost instantly grew to this age. I remember the darkness for a few moments, and then I crawled out but after that all I can remember is walking on my own two feet and being what you see now."

"Death returns all, and raises all into their primes. In death, we are all nearly as equal as can be. Our souls are not all even close to the same, but at least we are offered this small gift. While nothing will make us all equal, this is a small step in that direction - brought to us by the First Father."

Shiloh moved to the side as the voice began in once more, revealing the massive hole behind her. While a dim, shadowed orange created a sort of smothered light all around them, behind where Shiloh had been standing sat a human shaped recess into the void beyond. The light seemed to warp around the recess, possibly even being devoured by it the closer that it got. It was from this place that the voice seemed to resonate from.

"Who are you," Jebediah questioned.

"Have you finished your work here yet?"

"I asked who you were dammit." Jebediah rose from his kneeling position and motioned for his wife and daughter to take shelter behind him, though the remained motionless in the presence of the voice.

"You must accept your own past as well as your limitations. Accept all that has made you into who you are, and break free from the cocoon which you have built around yourself. Become greater than that which you have limited yourself to due to fear of failure. You are a great being Jebediah. You must understand this, and understand yourself if you are to be the protector that the First Father desires."

"What are you talking about? Why don't you show yourself to me? Are you afraid of my power? Is this why you hide?"

"Those who have once ascended can never again descend. When one truly moves on, the past disappears behind them. What we believe to be our limits fall away, and we become that which we were truly destined to be."

"You're not making any sense dammit."

"Jebediah," Lucretia wrapped her arms around her husband's waist, "what it means is, that you must accept your past. You must accept what happened to us and know that there was nothing you could have done differently to save us. What transpired that night, is what was always destined to. No matter how strong your own will, no matter what power you held you would have never been able to change it. The course of destiny cannot be averted."

"But... there must have been something... it was all my fault... even if I had done nothing at all, I could have saved you in the end... even if saving you in that way meant that I could never again see you."

"There was nothing Jebediah. I made the decision to leave you for that man. Everything that happened was my own doing. Even had you done nothing, in time I would have still been killed. In the end he was an outlaw, and all outlaws in time are hunted down and killed - even Jedediah."

"You don't know that."

"But I do my love. In life I may have been powerless, but since your daughter and I died we have sat in this place, waiting for you to return to us once more. The being which resides beyond that darkness gave to us the power to see, to hear and to guide you Jebediah. And at one point, I was even allowed to see in to the possible futures which could have come to pass should either of our actions have been different. It's always the same Jebediah. Whether it's from getting caught in a gunfight between you and some outlaw, setting our house ablaze while preparing a meal or even the lingering angst over providing for your own family driving you to murder them all... in every event, no matter our actions, you always become this same bounty hunter in the end. The events after each are different, but the outcome remains the same - you always end up back here, and we always die."

"But I... I just know... if I had known any of this before I know I could have protected you all forever. We could have grown together..."

"Yes, you could have saved us at that time. Perhaps had you known what was to come, I would have never even left you. But I did. And that is why we are here Jebediah. The past does not matter. It cannot be changed. All that matters now, is the future. You must understand this."

"Damn."

Jebediah looked down at his clenched fists, tears dropping from his eyes as Lucretia and Shiloh embraced him.

"It's okay honey. We lived and served our purpose."

"Wake up."

"And even after death, we were able to be happy. Your daughter was happy being able to watch her father grow, and I to be able to see to what lengths you would go to avenge us."

"Dammit Jeb."

"But yet..." Lucretia pushed Jebediah away slightly and looked down at his chest.

"Dammit wake up man."

"It doesn't seem that it is truly your time yet. Perhaps the others were right. It is too early for you to have gone through these trials."

"Come back to us Jebediah!"

"Yes, he failed to remove one of the seals I'm afraid. The hands of the living still reach out for him even now." The darkness seemed to shift, as if moving closer towards the bounty hunter.

"You still have shit to do man!"

"I... I see... I suppose we were too excited about his arrival that we failed to notice... I... I'm sorry to have gotten your hopes up Jebediah." The woman pushed herself away from Jebediah, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Don't give up on me yet dammit!"

"Wait, Lucretia. What do you mean? Why can't we be together? Who gives a damn if I didn't clear all of the seals? I'm here now, with you and Shiloh! I'm ready to die! I'm ready to make up for lost time! I'm ready to be with you forever dammit!"

"There's still something I can do for you! Come back to me dammit!"

Lucretia shook her head. "I'm sorry Jebediah, but... what you've just said only proves that you are not truly ready for this responsibility... I'm afraid that... the truth is Jebediah..."

"The truth is daddy..."

Shiloh moved to stand next to her mother, their hands intertwined as tears fell from their faces. The two women's mouths moved in unison, uttering something that could not be heard for as they spoke, the void consumed Jebediah.

The symbol for deliverance shone from within the darkness. For a moment, he was back to where he had started. He found himself staring back at a door with five symbols, four of which glowed red like fire while the fifth seemed to darken itself upon the wood. The four other symbols were sucked into the fifth, and the door began to collapse in on itself to the spot where the fifth symbol rested. The entire world around seemed to be sucked away, absorbed into that one final symbol which he could not dispel.

And then, there was nothing; no sound, no light, no dark, no symbol and no feeling. This was existence erased. The emptiness that awaited all those who failed in their trials to become a ruler - or perhaps for those with intent so dark and foul that they should be destroyed and locked away... perhaps this was where...

"Give the man some room! Give him some room dammit!"

Jebediah's eyes slowly peeled open, the sun searing his retinas as he grew accustomed to the light of day once more. An elderly man hovered over him with what seemed to be a skeleton held up by the wrist.

"Who... who the hell are you?"

The elderly man laughed half-assedly. "Can't you tell? It's me, Ol' Rod. Your good ol' Judge friend. Heh. Nearly thought we lost ya there."

"What? There's no way... you can't be Rod, he was a man in his twenties and you're what, five years from the grave?"

The man smiled and tossed the skeleton and another corpse at the bounty hunter. "Those are the two brothers that you'd been searchin' for aren't they? Well... one brother and what's left of... anyways. I need to get back up North and explain myself. After all that's gone on here, I think I've made up my mind about this whole 'Supreme' business. I'd say you'd best get back to the collection office too, before someone else decides to cash in on those corpses. You can only cheat death so many times my friend. Until we meet again."

The elderly man turned his back on the bounty hunter and waved his wrinkled hand at the man he had just brought back from the dead. On the other side of Jebediah stood a young girl with the bounty hunter's guns and sword.

"For you, my friend."

"And who the hell might you be? Gonna tell me you're the judge too now?"

The woman shook her head. "Not at all. The name's Rieve, and I believe we'll be meeting again at some point in the future. Needless to say, though they don't want to exactly throw their hats into the mix themselves at the moment, there are those out there who you might call enemies but see you as a sort of... well, I suppose a clean-up crew of one if you would? Seeing as how you're taking care of the mess that they initially set off."

Jeb cocked his head, obviously confused and still trying to take in the whole thing with Rod now being an old man and the whole dying experience. "What do you mean? Clean-up crew? What exactly am I cleaning up, and which enemy of mine supposedly set this mess off?"

"Well, if you can't figure it out now then I suppose that's for the better. Though, I believe at some point in the future all shall be made clear to you. Probably sooner than any of us anticipate either. There's a lot of movement going on up North. The Nights are growing louder Jebediah. When the brown wolf howls, will you bellow too?"

The young girl grabbed up her green poncho and turned her head towards the bounty hunter once more, running her eyes up and down his body before giving him a little wink. As her eye closed, she was gone.

The bounty hunter was 'alone' now, in the center of a town square surrounded by people of faith praising to their god about the miracle which they had just witnessed and others who while not too religious themselves, still in awe over a man being brought back to life. Jebediah rose to his feet shakily, not knowing how long he had been out he had no idea what day or what time even it was. However, what he did know is that something within him had changed from that near-death experience. And he had two bounties to collect on before Janet decided to deduct from his pay for being tardy.

gimmepie · Aug 27, 2016

The Night Wolf
Running with Wolves

Several hours after wandering into the camp of the Naive Jeiman Outlaws, Samson had realised he was in the most dire straits he had ever been in. These were not your typical disgruntled thieves like himself, they were not even your common mugger or murderer. Samson had managed to wander into the middle of a camp full of anti-colonist xenophobes with tears rolling down his face. What was worse, at the head of this clan was possibly the bulkiest man that Samson had ever seen, a wolf-pelt headdress sitting attop his head like a crown. This particular group of outlaws was lead by a Big Bad, a man known only as The Night Wolf.

Now Samson was being dragged along behind an only slightly less bulky Native man, a brutal thug by the name of Apisi. There was a time that the unusual sounding name would have made Samson smile and laugh, but this was no longer such a time. His wrists were bound together so tightly that they'd begun to chafe severely and bleed, the other end of the wrope firmly in the grasp of a man who stopped every ten minutes or so to torment or brutalise the young thief. Samson was bruised from head to toe and covered in blood, the red ooze drying into a feral crust quickly in the heat only for his gashes to be reopened by another beating.

At first Samson had tried to struggle and escape furiously, but that had only earned him even harsher beating. He'd even tried to steal Apisi's spellbook at one point, something that had earned him his harshest beating yet as well as had brough to him a terrible surprise. These were not like the few other Natives he had met, they were of a near undiluted bloodline for the most part and had not lost the old ways. The Night Wolf and his men did not rely on Spellbooks, they're magic came from a deep connection to the natural world around them and as such was not bound by the colonists laws of magic nor their attempts to regulate it. There was no sneaky way to gain an upperhand here, and Apisi and his fellow outlaws had taunted Samson as they kicked and punched his and let their wolves rip into his flesh; reminding him of their superiority as the Night Wolf looked on with vicious, bloodthirsty satisfaction. Even as he stumbled along, Samson was on the verge of losing consciousness. What was worse, the natives were getting bored of assaulting him which meant the next attack would likely be the last he endured... and not in a good way.

In a strange twist of fate however, it was Samson's disorientation that brought him his final chance at salvation. He stumbled and fell, as he had many times before, however this time did not bring a foot to his shattered ribs. Instead Apisi mearly continued to effortlessly drag Samson's frame along the dirt, the desert sand smearing into the young outlaw's open wounds and causing stinging pain on top of the agony he was already experiencing. It was as he was dragged acorss the ground however, that Samson's hand brushed a jagged stone and his fingers isntinctively wrapped around the object. It was the feeling of suddenly having something in his hand that brought on a moment of clarity for the boy. He managed to force himself to his feet and begun using the rock to tear away at his bindings, it was not easy - certainly not in his state - but with time short this last chance had given him new strength.

It took Samson a painstaking effort over a torturously long time to finally sever the rope. As soon as the rope broke, he turned and ran - hoping that none of his captors immediately noticed him and that he'd be far enougha way to not be worth chasing when they did. At first it seemed his plan would pay off, nobody immediately gave chase. He did not hear the conversation going on behind him
"Poor Apisi," the deep, rumbling voice of the Night Wolf said, a mocking humour in his tone "Maybe we should tie you up instead, it seems a white man - or rather the child of a white man even - has gotten the better of you. How pitiful." The other outlaws laughed raucously at the man, his suntanned olive skin flushing with humiliation and rage before he returned to his wits and replied his voice as cold as ice.
"No colonial child has ever or will ever get the best of me, however it is no fun if the chase is too easy and I was beginning to be bored by the little fucker anyway. I think maybe he's gotten far enough now."

Apisi took only a few step forward before his body changed, no longer was he the tall, brutal man. Now he was a large, sleek and fiersome-looking wolf and he took off fast after his prey - several of the actual wolves and a few other shapeshifting natives not far behind. Samson thought he had actually made it, a wave of euphoria overcoming him as he finally dared to look back only to have his brief moment of joy shattered and replaced with gut-wrenching horror as he saw the pack of raging beasts rocketing after him. Samson managed to stagger only a few steps before he collapsed and then they were on him, teeth sinking into him and rending his flesh from his bones as he screamed in horror. The boy's blood drenched the earth below the frenzy as the outlaws and their wolves tore him apart piece by piece, his screams of pure terror and the most agaonising pain not subsiding until there was little recongisable of him left. Apisi returned to his human form, fresh blood dripping from his face. He picked up what was left of Samson's head by its hair and jammed the deceased's femur into the base of the head before sticking it into the dirt like some sort of twisted totem - a beacon for whoever was unfortunate enough to travel by the dismembered corpse of a foolish young thief who made some bad decisions and missed the fox familiar he'd never summon again.

Shak · Aug 28, 2016

Sophia Hartmann
Status - Outlaw - Leader of Sangre Clan-----------------------Former member of Culebra Clan
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Air
Bounty - 2200$

Achilles Nimbus
Status - Bounty Hunter
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Electricity
Money - $3200 ($27, 800 to go)

Kelmorr Kuvag
Status - Bounty Hunter
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Fire
Money - $3,000

Near Larkin - National Guard Provisional Base

Jeimas Hold'em Again

Coady stuck out his hand, catching the downpour of blood that crashed like a waterfall from his mouth.

"Where Veralice?" The booming voice of the native man that stood over over him rung in his head. As if he didn't already have enough of a headache. The larger man stomped over, but Coady gave him no time to strike again. He burst onto his feet, darting over to the interrogator and landed a punch straight in the mans chest. Didn't even flinch. Shit. He grumbled. His own helplessness was pissing him off more than anything else. With a callous and non-nonchalant expression, the interrogator struck Coady in the back with a double axe handle, causing the smaller of the two men to collapse to the ground in a pained mess.

"I never met the bastard." Coady whimpered.

"Lying." the native man spat. "I not like liars."

Sophia lay in the corner of the room, slumped against the wall next to Abe. A small trickle of now dried-up blood ran from nose down her face, but she was otherwise in a much better state than the bounty hunter that was getting pummeled.

"Let go of the lad, he doesn't know anything!" Abe protested. "I've told ya bastards he wasn't on the spot!"

"Quiet, old!" the interrogator boomed he picked up Coady again. "I ask again! Where Veralice? Where J-Jeb...Jeb..."

"His name's Abe, not old, Brutus, and it's Jebediah. Jeb. Eh. Die. Uh. But don't take it too hard buddy, yer still a better conversationalist than the bossman." Kel corrected the giant native with a nickname suitable to his stature and... mannerisms.

"Yes, him! Where him?" the interrogator screamed, shaking the nearly unconscious bounty hunter like a ragdoll. Just as the latter opened his mouth to speak, Abe's voice once again called him from across the room.

"Ya cowards! Ya ain't afraid of beatin' a girl and an innocent man, and ya call yerself part of national guard? Hell, if I was the fuckin' guv'ner I'd have burned this shithole and its people to the ground by now. Now stop bein' a fuckin' silo fer once and go tell yer boss we ain't got nothin' to do with ya'll and yer search!" the old miner spat, out of breath by the time he had finished his sentence.

"Abe man talk too much." the interrogator grumbled.

"Come at me, boy. These bones seen more in this world than yer pecker's ever gonna see action." Abe taunted, spitting on the ground.

"I last saw Jebediah in Ironhaven!" Coady coughed, catching the interrogator's attention. "Yeah, the bastard went up north, ditched us when we needed him most. He said he was goin' after Veralice, and we haven't seen him since." He continued staring directly into the man's eyes as he spoke.

The interrogator scoffed, blowing through his nose in amusement as he carelessly let go of Coady, causing the weakened bounty hunter to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. "Your turn, Abe man." he grunted, cracking his knuckles again as he took a step towards the old miner.

"Hold on there, big fella." Kel cut in. "I don't really think there's much point goin' any further. I can see something in ol' Abe's eyes that's pretty rare in the badlands nowadays. Loyalty. If he had any beans to spill I reckon about now that he'da spilled'em when the lady over there was getting her piece of beatin's." As he spoke he stepped in front of 'Brutus' and knelt down in front of the cell Looking deep into Abe's eyes to make sure he wasn't just looking too hard for something he wanted to see.

Abe frowned, staring back into Kel's eyes. The suddenly, for a second, he saw something - and his expression relaxed. He nodded solemnly, and looked up at the interrogator. "Speak to yer boss. We've had enough of this."

Kel gave a tiny nod that was imperceptible to anyone but Abraham, then straightened up and barred the native's path with his arm by pointing at the stairs. "Alright, come on tough guy, let's hustle up stairs and let the bossman know we got nothin' yet, and we ain't likely to get nothin' at all."

-------------

Where on earth is that woman? Hudson thought to himself, waiting anxiously at the meeting spot the hooded girl had mentioned. He glanced at the box of items and let out a short, frightened sigh. "Oh dear lord, if anyone sees me with this... I'm d- hurk!"

His words were cut short as a hand clamped over his mouth from behind him, forcing him to turn around. Much to his relief (a rather stressful kind of relief, in fact) it was the woman. She raised her finger to her lips, ordering for him to stay quiet. Hudson nodded weakly and handed her the box. After a quick inspection of the contents, she closed the lid. Suddenly, the entire case disappeared right before Hudson's eyes, leaving behind only the set of keys he had grabbed earlier.

"N-now, ma'am, I've done my job, if we could just talk about the whole poison ordeal-"

"Take these keys and lead me to the Sangres' cell. I will remain cloaked behind you." the assassin ordered, handing him the keys. "Go, now."

Barely an instant after she spoke, her figure was gone once more. Hudson shuddered and gulped. Oh lord, oh lord, oh l... Hudson's panicked muttering was halted as he noticed two unfamiliar figures standing in front of him. He quickly backed off into the corridor he'd came from. He could feel his heart pounding as the footsteps drew closer to where the prisoners were being held. This was just going to get a lot harder.

"So what I'm saying is, we seriously need to head north as soon as possible. I know I've said this before, but the south is actually shit." The taller of the two rambled. Hudson knew he couldn't allow them to get to the prisoners before he did. If they were higher ranking officers, he'd be in big trouble given what he himself was trying to do; and if they were intruders, they'd inevitably cause a scene and it would be even harder for him to help this woman free the prisoners. He sighed in defeat, knowing he was forced into a lose lose situation either way.

He tailed the two men, keeping a fair distance between him and them. It was obvious at this point, where they were headed but if he could at least corner them, he'd have the opportunity to pick them off without creating a scene.

It was just as he'd hoped. They'd led him right to the prisoners, and if he could just take them out while they were distracted. As the shorter man was opening the door, Hudson seized his moment. He fired a shot at the man's companion. That however, did not end as he'd hoped. The bullet fell pathetically to the floor, without so much as denting its target.

"You should pray right now. Pray to whatever god you wanna pray to. Ask him to give you some sort of attack or weapon stronger than whatever peashooter you've got in your hand right now." Isaac stated coldly, not even respecting his assailant enough to turn around.

Hudson gulped, his hand trembling violently as he raised his gun and thought of something - anything - to say. "D-drop your weapons! You-you're trespassing on national guard property!" the guard stammered. He momentarily considered escape. With the man's back turned, he could probably buy enough time to get around the corner and call for help- but there was the assassin. Hudson couldn't reveal her - she might kill him, or worse, they might kill her - or communicate with her...

"I'm taking him out." Isaac whispered in a flat tone to Achilles.

Achilles sighed. The bounty hunter followed the command the guard had given to him, and dropped all his weapons to the ground. He had been the one who made the decision to 'go commando' (as Isaac would put it) if things went south, but they weren't quite south yet, and unsolicited attacks wouldn't benefit them. Sure, the man had just shot Isaac, so that was reason enough to retaliate, but he could practically smell the fear on him. If the man was as scared as he seemed, he could've been used to aid them, but probably not anymore. He blinked behind the man, placing his palm faintly on his back. "What weapons? I think it's you who needs to drop your weapons...sir."

Hudson jumped up, startled by the sudden disappearance. "Aaah!" he screamed, promptly dropping his gun to the ground. "I give, I give! Just... please don't shoot, man, don't shoot! I'm too young to die!" he pleaded.

He glanced sideways. The woman was nowhere to be seen. In a burst of panic and fear, the guard dropped to his knees. "Lord, are you also with that lady? So was that her plan, then? Poison old me, turn invisible and run off with my heart in her clutches?"

"Her heart in your clutches, what?" The bounty hunter gave a confused glance over to his partner, who had now turned and leaned on the door in order to watch the spectacle take place. Isaac could offer no more than a mutually confused shrug in response. "Wait...what woman?"

He quickly jumped away, noticing a blur of lightning blinking towards him. Achilles was able to grab the dagger, which was now clearer, and came face to face with the woman wielding it. She tried to kick away, but Achilles reflexively blinked away, gaining some distance between the duo.

"You idiot!" the assassin spat, her blade flickering with electricity as she rolled towards Hudson and Isaac. Behind her, Isaac drew his gun from its holster, ready to attack her and Hudson from behind; but halted as Achilles raised his hand.

"Who exactly are you supposed to be?" Achilles asked flatly, his raised hand still sparking from the exchange with the woman's dagger. "His flame, I'm guessing." He mocked, glancing at Hudson in the corner of his eye, causing the latter to whimper nervously.

Marzia froze, her hand instinctively rested on the shoulder where her snake would have previously been. She considered her options - the men weren't dressed like guards, but that didn't mean they were friendly. If she turned invisible now, they could still shoot her. With both of them being too far away, and with one holding her 'partner' hostage... all she could do was negotiate.

"I am here to fetch my bounty." she said, looking Achilles in the eyes. "The guard have stolen them from me, and I am to bring them to my employer."

Achilles skeptically raised a brow. He was hesitant to trust anything this woman said, and even if she was telling the truth, he couldn't really afford for her to harm any of the prisoners for risk of cutting any allegiances he may have needed to escape with his life. He was honestly starting to doubt his own allegiances. "So you're a bounty hunter? And you're after who exactly?" He asked with authority.

"Y-es." the assassin replied hesitantly, as if reluctant to say she was in fact a bounty hunter. "My targets are Sophia Hartmann and the Sangre clan. With Frank Tolkins dead, my other two targets are in captivity. If we have a mutual goal, then we can assist each other and part ways peacefully."

"No one said we had any kind of mutual goal, how do we-" Isaac began, before being interrupted by his partner.

"There's a man in there with them that has no association to the Sangre clan. We're here to free him. Whatever you do with the Sangres is none of our concern, but we'd like to be able to leave with our friend safely."

"Wait, we're actually gonna trust this bitch?" Isaac furrowed his brows with a defiant look in his eyes. "Not to sound like a dick here, but looking at your track record, I'm struggling to see how this end well." Achilles bit his lip as Isaac continued to expose their own weaknesses. Much like his partner, he was by no means certain how this would turn out, but he didnt see how killing this woman would help anything either. He was almost certain she was lying, but he wasnt prepared to call her out without being able to affirm the situation.

Hudson looked behind him at Isaac, frowning. "Hey man, that's no way to address a-"

"Quiet." Marzia ordered, silencing Hudson with a stern glare. Seeing as the other man was the more reasonable of the duo, she turned to Achilles. "This guard has the key to their cells. We are lucky his gunshot didn't attract any other guards to us yet, and I want to keep it that way. Once he opens up the cells to my targets and your friend, we take down anyone in the vicinity and exit - quietly." she added, emphasizing on that last word.

"We can work with that." Achilles nodded, noticing Isaac snarl at his usage of the word 'we'.

A joint post of Foxrally, Shak and Sephear

JukeboxTheGhoul · Aug 30, 2016

ANIMA

[S-HIGHLIGHT]Music[/S-HIGHLIGHT]

Information

Spoiler:

In the dead of night, Anima slept in his bed, his forehead was moist with sweat. Tiny precious beads glistened as they ran down the valleys of creases in his head off and in to the pillow. The pillow was soaked. His limbs jerked around, his leg jittering the blanket off of him. Shadow got up from her cot in the barracks and walked past the door to see what the noise was. Others were asleep from the exhaustion of holding the rally. Cassandra had not returned. Elliott was on the road to recovery. Altan and Martirio hadn't even the time to pray before they dropped to sleep. Shadow however, had shared memories with José. She felt she knew him more than a prophet and more like herself. She had shared the torment of his upbringing. The fire he set to liberate his parents. The damage to his eye. She had seen this through his feelings and his own very eyes. The door was open just a crack, a little candle flickered through, illuminating a path to Anima. She took a cloth, pumped a little bit of water in to the bucket and wetted it.

She slunk in to the room. Slightly bumping the door, it's hinges moaned. However he did not wake, but instead still writhed in his bed. The covers being kicked away had revealed the burning and scarring on his chest and abdomen. His mouth cover lay hanging off a side table. He didn't allow anyone to go in to his room. It was his own personal sanctuary. A place for his god, a place for him. At times it felt to Shadow as if Anima and Gaudium had became interchangeable entities. Some of the others might have disregarded the human aspect of Anima, but Shadow had to keep believing in him and Gaudium. Something Anima had explained to her before, was followers of Gaudium get a place in the Astral planes next to the mighty, gracious god they followed. Those they liberated would be scattered around. Gaudium had explained this was to reward people with their service. She stood against a wooden support, wondering what was going on...

Anima breathed in the sweet scent of Gaudium. He opened the claws that closed the eyes from preventing sight of the plains of the Astral Plane. Something was different, instead of the awesome expanding realm of azure stars and galaxies and the connections between suns that made up the ethereal representation of Gaudium. It was black, it was dark. The shade of pitch black tar. The only light source was irradiating from Gaudium. Gaudium was there. In his usual state, except the brilliant white shine of stars was replaced by red supernovae. Starting from just below his shoulders up to his crown was the only shape that appeared, as if he was forming from the head down. Instead of kneeling, Anima was floating in his Helioa state, without direction or purpose. There was no imperceivable platform like before. He wrangled his body to face his god.

"Gaudium?"
"José." His booming voice echoed throughout the mass of space. "Anima." It made Anima's voice insignificant. by comparison. "The Final Stages have begun. Time is wasting away. Ascension is soon upon your kind."
Anima gasped. He acknowledged Gaudium with deep respect, his deep voice still ringing in his ear. He placed his hand over his heart. "Yes, Master." Choirs of already liberated souls sung an angelic song that mounted in suspense.
"By my direct sacred word. I command you to gain power any way you see fit. Bring people in to my fold. Liberate all who oppose us!" Gaudium thundered with anger. "See to it that all bend the knee to my very being! Listen to mine every word through you. Succeed where your predecessor failed!"

Anima nodded slowly and responded with the phrase he's waited to use for such a long time. He wanted to say this firmly, like he has dreamed to. This anger throbbed in every fibre of the vision. It disorientated him. Finally he said it quietly. "May ascension free humanity from the binds of mortality."

He awoke to a cold cloth touching his head. His eye opening immediately to the face of Shadow. She smiled. Anima ordered her in a cold authoritative tone. "Leave." Shadow grew concern on her face, she backed away. Anima turned his head to the left, the wet cloth on his head sliding down to the pillow. His cheeks felt the pillow case, it was soaked through. He held up his hand. "Stop." Shadow followed his every command. He wiped his eye and readjusted the wet towel as it made him feel better. He sat up. "Why...?"

She knew what he was going to say, "You were shaking in your sleep, and you were very warm. I came in here to cool you down. I thought you were ill."

"I'm not ill." He looked at her as he put on a black robe and stepped out of bed. "Stay. Close the door."

"What was the nightmare about?" She had face of determined concern, aware that she was in equal parts in danger and privileged.

"Nightmare?" A grin appeared on his face. He sat back against the wall. "No, it wasn't a nightmare. If it was any form, it would be dream. It was a great vision." He was intoxicated with euphoria. "A prophecy has been declared by Gaudium. It is Final Stages. The final stages of this hell existing. The Ascension is soon going to happen where good triumph over evil and all experience the afterlife. We will be allowed to rest." He closed his eyes, dreaming of rest. "For this to happen, we need to be in a position of power. He has given me the authority to do so as I see fit and to send anyone we meet to him."

Shadow felt the weight of this prophecy inside her. It was the end of strife. The end of all things bad... It felt tantalizingly alluring with a hint of forbidding. She understood what part she needed to play. She was the manager of the Holy Order. She had to think practical."I know a target. Felix is one of the most infamous sinners in the South and the grape vine says he's weak. A bounty hunter who captures him becomes a hotshot. If we topple him, we can replace him and take over his influence. He is located near Silverston."

"We shall walk a path of death." He had a vicious grin going from ear to ear. While it was undeniable that Anima thought of death as good. Still Shadow had wondered whether he still saw death as morbid and revelled in it or saw death only as liberation and joy, in that sentence her question was answered.

Ice1 · Sep 8, 2016

Emmett Holliday
Status - Outlaw – Easy Target – Great, and I mean really great, Planner
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Water
Bounty - 2000$

Leatherface VII: The Emmett Awakens

The leather pages bound to his face were scribbled with illegible signs and markings. The letters had faded and smudged. Luckily, the process had seeped in. The magic didn't come from the letters, it came from the book itself, and therefore, it came from Liam. He liked the magical assembly he had created. He was a clever man when he was younger, very clever indeed. He still was, however, clever is not a word used to describe madmen. He had mangled and mistreated his spells to a point where they all worked together in a dissonant harmony. He channeled his abilities, he chose a target, he'd enhance his abilities, and he'd let all hell break loose.

Ironhaven was corrupted by a bleak purple aura, only visible to few. Emmett wasn't one of them, but he was quick to realize when someone was. They'd scream, they'd yell, they'd be torn apart by nothing at all. It amused him, but he didn't spend too much time watching. No, Emmett had a goal. For once in his life, he had a plan. A multiple step plan. A quality, multiple step plan. First, he had to find Leatherface. Done, clock tower. Secondly, and most importantly, he was going to ask if he could leave. No, no, he was going to demand it!

"Hey!" He yelled. Just practicing. "Let me out!" More lower notes, that was clear, this wasn't that demanding. "Let! Me! Out!" No, desperate, it shouldn't sound desperate. "Hey, Leatherface," he tried again, in a very casual tone, "just saying, but, you know, if I don't get to leave, I'll do you quite some harm." That was it. Cool, casual, dangerous. Slick.

Leatherface sat atop the clock tower, looking down at the ground, playfully letting his legs dangle. Emmett suddenly sat next to him.

"Hey," Emmett started, very casually. Leatherface turned his head, and stared.

"That's right, you're still here," he said, blankly. "I forgot about you. Are you enjoying the view?"

"Well, it's funny, and all, but it's kind a boring."

"No, no, no." Leatherface shook his head. "You should try seeing it the right way." Emmett felt a hand smack against the back of his head, and when he opened his eyes, Ironhaven had turned into a hellscape. The stone paved streets floated around, with corpses spread out, and spread it in a rather graphic manner. The wooden supports of buildings had dispatched themselves, and twisted themselves into tentacles that wrapped and tore into bystanders, passing through others as if they weren't even there, while they split others in half completely.

"You're right," Emmett said. "This is more fun! But, not why I'm here, I kind of have other matters to attend to. Like, not being here. So I wondered if I could just leave town, on what I'd love to call: a friendly note."

"Don't ask me," Leatherface laughed.

"Okay, well, I'll have my valet write a letter to your manservant, and we'll sort it out through them, right?"

"No, I have no clue as to how we leave. I'm not responsible for those walls. That's someone else. But I like them. They're good magic walls. Best magic walls I've ever seen, actually. And I've seen a lot. At least two, I'd say."

"Okay, well, mind if I do something about them?" Before he received an answer, the twisted reality slicked back to him, and disappeared, leaving the normal Ironhaven to be seen. He quickly blinked away, and landed on the streets, running backwards and waving at the top of the clock tower. He smacked against the floor, as someone tackled him against the floor, and tapped his forehead.

"Got him!"

"Great work, Asper."

"Great work? Great work?" Emmett yelled out. "They just tackled me! A two legged donkey with its eyes gauged out could tackle me! Can we please tone down the praise just a notch?"

"Great work, Asper, don't let a target put you down!" Emmett looked up. On top of him set a young girl, probably his age. Dressed in a white dress, with long blonde hair, and a very pale skin. Her eyes were blue, like the sea. Next to them stood a man with a big bushy mustache, salt and pepper skin, with eyes as brown as toilet water.

"Okay, Holliday," he said, as he lurked down next to him, and showed him his wanted poster. "You're going to help us kill that man up there."

At the same time, a loud shattering echoed throughout town. The magical bubble around Ironhaven shivered, and a wave run through it. A tiny spec which seemed to be a hole was quickly filled in with magical energy, as a figure cannonballed through the air.

Oddball_ · Sep 22, 2016

Rory Ryder West

Level 3: Outlaw | Fire/Electricity | Bounty: 1,700$

On a train bound to Gilded Brook from Larkin sat a red eyed man in a long brown coat, holding in his hands a worn paperback novel whose letters were illuminated by the burning oil lamps hanging from the ceiling.

The man's hat dipped down a bit in the front as he flipped the page, his eyes unfaltering as they moved from one line to the next. The dark bandanna covering his face moved ever so slightly as he mouthed the words he was reading.

A shadow was suddenly cast over the individual, whose eyes darted up to meet the glare of a heavy set man with a slime covered cigar casting a pungent cloud through the train.

"You're in my light." He said plainly.

The man let out a snort, furthering his growing list of things in common with a swine.

"You have got to be ****ing ****ting me. I just happen to pick the train that happens to have Rory ****ing Ryder on it. Oh boy, somebody upstairs must like me a whole lot." The pig-man chuckled in a deep obnoxious voice, his bearded face bobbing up and down as he spoke. "You put up a hell of a show back in Larkin, I mean, killing three fresh bounty hunters ain't that big a deal, but melting them from the inside out and hanging their corpses up for the whole town to see? That is ****ed up son."

"I don't do autographs." Rory responded as he set the book down on the seat beside him. His hands remained in plain view, clearly not wanting to spook the pig-man into shooting whatever gun he likely had pointed at Rory. The man's body was too large for Rory to see without turning his head away from the mans face.

Another snort was followed by a cloud of smoke being blown into Rory's face, much to the outlaws disgust. "You got serious ****ing stones kid." The man spat as he shoved his gun towards the outlaw's face. "But here's how this is going to play. You're gonna sit there while I take your guns and burn your spell-book. Then i'm going to tie you up and drag your ass back to Spider's Hollow where i'll collect that sweet bounty and your ass can rot in a cell for all I care."

Rory rolled his eyes and sighed. "Actually." He said after a moment. "Here's whats really going to happen. I'm going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully. Then, i'm going to kill everyone else on this train because some dip **** bounty hunter thought he would get cocky."

BANG! The pig-man's gun fired, the flash reflecting off of Rory's calm eyes as the bullet stopped midair centimeters in front of the outlaw's forehead.

"W-what the hell!" The bounty hunter stammered as Rory rose to his feet, the bullet remaining trapped in front of Rory's skull as he moved. Suddenly the bullet shot backwards, digging itself into the man's wrist, causing him to scream out in agony.

By now the train had begun to lurch to a stop, the conductor having heard the gunshot and stopping the train to allow passengers to escape the shooter. However the train suddenly began picking up speed as the furnaces roared to life and the controls seemed to become stuck in the forward position.

"W-what... I'll kill you!" The man grunted as he clutched his wrist as it spurted out blood, painting the floor in a deep crimson shade. He tried to fire his gun again, but a fireball smashed into his gun before he could manage, causing him to drop the weapon to the floor as his flesh melted from his skin, slowly revealing the skeletal remains of his hand.

The bounty hunters knee connected with Rory's gut, causing the outlaw to swear as he doubled over in pain. Suddenly an elbow was brought down upon the back of his head, causing him to grunt and headbutt the man in the stomach, sending him crashing into the seats across the isle.

The bounty hunter barely had time to get up when a flaming hand wrapped around the man's throat, causing the skin to bubble and ooze down the man's neck. A scream became a gurgle as the mans vocal cords were liquefied under the intense heat, and the mans eyes slowly glazed over as he began to lose consciousness from the pain.

A pounding noise from the back of the car drew Rory's attention away from the melted corpse. An older man was trying to throw himself against the metal door of the train. A young woman was covering the eyes of a small boy as they cowered in the corner behind the man.

"Well hey there little guy! And how old might you be." Rory asked cheerfully, smiling as the young blonde child shook in fear as the woman tried to hide him behind her.

"Stay the hell away from my son you sick bastard!" The older man yelled, throwing his fist in Rory's direction, only to be caught and easily pinned against the metal door.

"You look like you need some help with this. See if you just apply heat like so..." Rory explained as his hands ignited with the unnatural flame once more while shoving the man against the metal door. The flames quickly consumed the man and the metal door quickly melted into a pile of molten slag as Rory pulled the mans charred corpse away from the door and pointed it towards the woman and the young child.

"Look son, I opened the door for you so you and your mother can go on and escape the CRAAAAZZYYYYY outlaw." Rory said in a high pitched voice as he made the corpse bounce up and down. "Well that's not very nice Mister Crispy, I don't believe they're gonna get the point without a demonstration don't you think?" Rory then asked in his ordinary voice before hurling the corpse out the door and over the side rails until it crashed into an ashy pile of bones on the desert ground. "See kid? You wanna be like your old man right? Come on." Rory said as he snatched the boy away from the woman who screamed in horror as she watched the red eyed outlaw drag the screaming child over to the railing.

"He's only ten! Have mercy!" The woman wailed as she tried to claw at the outlaws jacket.

"Ten huh? When I was ten I had already killed my first man. Of course the bastard had tried to get friendly with my mom. Never let a man get friendly with your mom kiddo. And never, ever let anybody try and take her from you." Rory muttered before handing the boy over to the woman.

"Oh my god, Thomas!" The woman sobbed as she clutched the boy in her arms. The boy shivered in fear and awkwardly tried to hide the wet spot in his pants.

"Oh and most importantly. Always do everything in your power to stay true to your word." Rory said as he grabbed the woman by her hair and tossed her and the boy off the side of the train. He watched as they hit the ground, but the train was moving far to fast for him to be able to see if they survived the fall.

The outlaw chuckled and turned back towards his seat. He swore as he saw that during his bout with the recently deceased bounty hunter some of his fire had gone stray and landed on his book, reducing it to ash before he had a chance to read the ending. He grumpily grabbed his bag off the seat before turning towards the door and blinking into the frame. He kicked open the door to the next compartment and was disappointing when he found it empty, presumably everyone had evacuated when they had heard the gunshot. Or maybe it was the screams of agony as people were burning alive. Either way, his victims list wasn't going to be growing in this cab. He blinked through the next several cabs, all in similar states of hurried emptiness.

The engine car was ahead of him and he could hear a fire roaring on the inside, an orange glow shining from the windows as it poured a thick black smoke from its stacks. An angry yell reverberated through the car as a bald man with a handlebar mustache and a conductors cap tripped through the doorway.

"Who the **** are you?" The man spat as he tried to climb to his feet, unfortunately for him however a 3 foot angry feline leaped onto his back, sinking its teeth into the mans neck. "FUAAAA-"

"Whose a good kitty!" Rory giggled happily as he pet the Lynx as it merrily tore out the conductors jugular.

Once the man was most defiantly not going to be getting back up, Rory smiled to himself as his familiar brushed up against his leg, licking the blood off of his lips. "I think that's the whole train emptied. I'd have preferred to have it crash into the station with a couple bodies left but I suppose beggars can't be choosers." He mused as he stroked the Lynx familiar's head.

The outlaw poked his head into the engine car, seeing that the levers were all melted in the full speed position as he had wanted, he smiled and looked out over the desert at the slowly growing outline of the city before them.

"Another job well done. I suppose we're just going to have to lay low until this jackass sends another messenger to be slaughtered. At least he entertains me." Rory chuckled as he blinked off the train onto the sandy desert below them. The train would precede his arrival in town by several hours, but he didn't want to be anywhere near there when it tore through the town anyway.

JukeboxTheGhoul · Oct 2, 2016

ANIMA

[S-HIGHLIGHT]Music[/S-HIGHLIGHT]

Information

Spoiler:

"I am the Prophet. And my word is law. I am the Prophet. And my word is truth. You are my Acolyte. My loyal disciple. My dedicated apostle. I am the Prophet. And I choose you as a Hand Of Anima. A title held by few. A man or woman who has inside them, the light. A light so bright it shines out of them. Bathe them in the eternal glow of the Astral Plane. By this calling, You shall preach, act independently to carry out His will and control your congregation. No Hand is above the Prophet. I am the Prophet." The memories started tugging at him. He delved in deeper and pulled the ancient memories to his consciousness. "Gaudium has blessed you. Now, the time is upon us. In my name, Anima, Life! In the name of my predecessors before me; Anaconda, the snake of knowledge. His master, Venom, The poison vanquishes all foes of Gaudium. His master, Enigma, Gaudium's Sacred Code. Reaper, the one who delivered many to the astral plane. In the name of all who went before them." He put his hands on the man's head, everything was still for a moment. "And finally in the name of the One, he who has many names, Gaudium."

The man put his arms crossed over his chest with his palms on his shoulder. He prepared for his baptism of choice. He tipped himself backwards off the platform. As Anima seemingly gestured pushing him with one hand, without touching him. He swung backwards. Everything seemed to slow down as the red liquid rippled and started to overcome him. The blood pulled him deeper as he fully submerged in to the literal pool of blood. He felt empowered even though he was holding his breath. He felt he could do anything. He felt he could breath. He opened his mouth and his eyes, letting out bubble of air. He could see as clear as day beneath the surface of Blood. Nothing was cloudy, his head was the clearest it was for decades. He breathed in and out with the blood transforming in to air as it was sucked in and expelled. He heard his name called from beyond the surface.

Anima made beckoning motion. A man-shape started to appear at the surface. "Rise!" A shape pulling itself out of the water. "Rise! Out of the Blood Of The Fallen!" The shape was hovering above the surface, drenched in the life juices. "Rise!" The shape came to be in a standing position a metre above it. "Hand Of Anima!" The blood was sucked in to the shape and it revealed a person. Standing on a thin layer of blood at his feet. "Altan!" Altan stood there in all his glory; immaculate and pure.

The Holy Order assembled supplies and cargo on in to several carts. Anima summoned Cerberus. He stroked his thick obsidian hair. The horse looked at Anima's eye with understanding. He peeled his gaze off of the horse and looked over the operation. Elliott, Martirio and Shadow loaded the trailer attached to a couple of horses.

Cassandra Rawlings stepped out of the shadows, her sniper rifle resting on her right shoulder, her left arm cradling a package. "You've returned."

"Yes. Here it is." She gave the crate to Anima who lifted up the lid. It was just what he needed. He put it in the back and nodded to them.

Elliott went up to Cassie, whispering in genuine gratitude hinted with fear, "I'm glad to have you back, like really glad. These strange cultists freak me out." He scratched at his neck slightly.

"Yeah, well I'm just happy they'd be paying me for doing nothing but deliver something" Cassie responded in a bored tone, "Though it was rather below my abilities."

"Maybe he sent you because he thought it would be dangerous. Was it?"

"A few groups bandits jumped me on the long hike to Gilded Brook but I soon but bullets in them." She smacked her weapon of choice down in to her other palm. She turned and placed it in the case and put it in with the cargo but secured her pistol on her belt.

Elliott was starting to think Cassie wasn't all that right in the head either. Unfortunately, it's what he's stuck with, for now. So he guessed that Cassandra was still a breath of fresh air.

Anima walked over to the new Hand Of Anima. "Altan, you're a valuable follower. You are now a priest and should carry out my will."

"And His will" He interrupted the Prophet.

Anima held back his anger and settled with a seething glare. "And build our faith here. I will return in a while. I expect this place to be under our control when we get back." He moved his head upwards, towards the sky, putting his hands on his upper arms. The last phrase was not a whisper."I am the prophet. My word is law. All hail Gaudium."

Altan repeated the salutation, "All hail Gaudium."

The group mounted their horses and carts. Altan turned, his white robes swished in the movement. Elliott sat next to Martirio, who whipped the reins to start forward. Anima pressed in to the side of Cerberus and Shadow followed suit.

gimmepie · Oct 8, 2016

Alex Rose

No Sleep - Part Two

Alex and Elias dived away in different direction as the high pressure torrent pelted the ground behind them, leaving a deep crater in the ground and soaking the once dry desert soil. Alex could barely make out the figure that had attacked them, the man - or at least former man - was lurking just beyond the light of their fire. Even still, it was clear that whoever had attacked them was larger in height and bulk than anyone born of natural means.
"Oh fuck me!" Elias screamed "It's fuckin' Veralice. We're gonna die!"
Alex took aim with his shotgun as he yelled back
"It's not Veralice! If it was you'd probably be dead already!"

Alex pulled the trigger, the dark figure moving to the side in anticipation of the attack howling in pain as shrapnel from the shell embedded itself in his side and shoulder.
"At least we know you're not nearly as tough as your boss then." Alex smirked, realising that he had a shot of collecting the water-user's large bounty. Elias on the other hand, was not nearly as confident and seemed to only be aware of the supernatural nature of the enemy they were now facing.
"Alex... I really don't like the look you've got right now."
"You wouldn't."
"We're not running are we...?"

There wasn't time for Alex to answer Elias, another vicious blast of water was flying towards the cowardly man. Alex blinked the distance between them, tackling Elias to the ground out of the way of the magical attack. The stream of deadly water missed both men, but splashed over their fire leaving them in darkness. Gripping Elias, Alex blinked away, managing to put a few feet between them and the half-demon. Or at least, he thought he had. In the sudden, all-enveloping darkness it was nearly impossible to determine where the enemy was.

"We're fucking dead." Elias whimpered. Earning him an immediate shove to the side from Alex as he dived in the opposite direction. Surely enough, even as Alex hit the ground the sound of a heavy impact from another attack came from the space that had only just then been occupied by the two men. Dust and rubble from the impact pelted Alex as he pushed himself into a crouch, raising his shotgun in the direction he thought the spell had come from and firing twice. There was no sound but the bullets whizzing through empty space, but the flash of his firearm revealed Alex's location and a second later the bounty hunter felt a massive force collide with him and send him sprawling across the now drenched ground, sopping wet and gasping for breath - probably with a broken rib or twelve.

Alex winced as Elias called out from the darkness
"Alex?! What the fuck was that? You better not be fucking dead!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Alex growled "He can't find you either if you keep fucking quiet!"
"W-argh!" Elias began to speak, but anything he might have said was drowned out by the familiar sound of an elemental burst striking the ground just beyond him. "Fuck!" Elias swore once more.

Without wasting a second, Alex blinked to a new location, knowing that the brief red flash that characterised his Blink would attract the attention of Veralice's servant and probably save Elias from taking a hit. Confirming his thoughts, Alex felt the spell flying past his face, spraying him with heavy droplets as he lurched to the side. Knowing more or less where to aim, Alex took several more shots, his Reload spell keeping his shotgun stocked up on bullets without the need for him to manually refil it. There were no hits, but he was sure he was close because the response he got was immediate and agry. Another strike just to his side, accompanied by an angry bellow as Alex ran to the side.
I can't keep relying on narrow misses damnit.

For a time, everything fell silent. Keeping low, Alex begun to creep towards the direction he thought the half-demon was attacking him from. Slowly but surely, Alex inched forwards as adrenaline flowed through his body. His eyes, caught movement in the direction he was moving. Suddenly however, something hit his side - in a panic Alex wheeled around and lifted his gun as a muzzle flashed and a bullet flew past his head close enough for him to feel the wind it produced.
"Fucking really?!" Alex yelled at Elias, who had nearly shot him in the head.
"Oh shit, Alex!" Elias cried out "So-" Elias' apology was interupted by the laughter of their agressor, who now knew exactly where they were. Before Alex could even blink - or more importantly Blink - he felt the agonising impact as he and Elias were struck by what felt like a river. Alex's shotgun flew from his grip as he and his companion were launched through the air several feet, hitting the ground with a spray of wet dirt and an audible thump. Ignoring the searing pain in his body, Alex rolled to the side and grabbed Elias again, Blinking away just in time to avoid another of the attacks - landing in a spot he knew was behind the outlaw attacking them so it couldn't follow the flash of light.

Alex was now sure he had broken ribs as he fought the burning pain and urge to cough, reaching to his holster and pulling out his revolver. He could faintly hear Elias' deep breathing next to him as hetried to keep his breaths quiet. Alex grimaced, he was going to have to speak and give away their location. He'd have only a few words to get his point across.
"Point and shoot!" he yelled, shoving Elias in the opposite direction for a third time as a raging geyser erupted from the ground between them, sending Alex rolling away as the force of the spell knocked him to the ground. He yelped in pain and spluttered, feeling the metalic tang of blood in his mouth. There was no time to recover however, in a flash of flame Alex disappeared and reappered elsewhere - narrowly avoiding a repeat performance.

Alex hoped Elias caught on as his Elemental Blink illuminated the area around where he reappeared in a burst of flame. Alex immediately disappearing again and remerging with another searing flash of fire, this time the young bounty hunter emerging directly next to pitch-black skinned outlaw. Burning him and causing the swirling halo over its head to steam. With an angry yell the half-demon delivered a ferocious punch to Alex's head, knocking him back to the ground with a ringing in his ears. Alex levelled is weapon up at his attacker but before he pulled the trigger the sound of another gunshot rang out as did a cry of pain from the demoic being. It seemed Elias had worked out the plan afterall.

Veralice's servant dropped to his knees infront of Alex but the bounty hunter didn't get a chance to put a bullet in his head as a surge of water engulfed him and carried him away like rapids, Alex's shot flying off in a random direction as he tumbled along the rapidly wettening desert ground. Eventually coming to rest, coughing and spluttering and spitting out blood, in a rapidly fading pool of water. Alex forced himself up with a groan, Fire Blinking back to where the water-user had been only for an empty space to be illuminated and an elemtental blast to fly past his head as he immediately Blinked away again.

Alex emerged from crackling flames several times without managing to reveal the location of the half-demon before with a final reapearance he felt himself get struck by a swirling vortex and spun violent around within the water. He tried to Blink away, but found himself unable to use the spell for some reason. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the vortex faded and Alex was stumbling around - disoriented and gasping for oxygen all air having run from his lungs during the brief ordeal. A sitution made worse when a midnight-skinned hand wrapped around his throat and hoisted him into the air. Rage-filled blue eyes glaring at Alex as he kicked his feet and struggled against the vice-like grip, his gun dropping to the ground. Once again he tried Blinking away, but found himself completely unable to use the spell. It wasn't uncommon for magic-users to have a counter to the extremely useful spell, but this was the first time Alex had ever found himself in a life-threatening situation as a result of such measures. The hand closed around his neck, compressing his airway. The half-demon intentionally taking his time having not taken kindly to being shot twice during their skirmish.

Alex's vision began to blur and his head begun to swirl as he fought to stay concious, his foes deadly grasp preventing him from taking in any Oxygen. He tried Blinking several more times, but it seemed he was still unable to do so. Desperate, he tried to summon forth a flame, managing only a tiny Elemental Burst that missed even at such close range. Alex stealed himself for death, determined to cause pain to the fucker that was going to beat him before he went. He raised his hand once more, a large burning flame appearing but fizzling out before he could throw it. Through his hypoxia faded vision however, he saw a sudden flash of silver movement as something was pressed to the head of the beat draining the life from him. There was a loud bang and suddenly thick chunks of grey matter coated Alex's face and the pressure around his throat vanished in an instant. Alex dropped onto the dirt as several more gunshots sounded, right by his head.

As quickly as they had left, Alex's senses returned to him and to his astonishment he saw Elias standing over him and the corpse of the demonic outlaw as he emptied the last of his bullets into the enormous body.
"What the fuck?" Alex choked out as Elias sagged and collapsed onto his backside.
"That's my line." Elias said as he resisted the urge to throw up.

Oddball_ · Oct 27, 2016

Rory Ryder West

Level 3: Outlaw | Fire/Electricity | Bounty: 1700$

It was an interesting sight, watching a runaway train literally tear through a town. It was something Rory had never seen before, however he was the type of sadistic bastard to enjoy the decimation of an entire town and many of its inhabitants.

"I've, been working on the railway..." Rory hummed to himself as he strode past the crowds of people trying to clean up the remnants of exploded train and obliterated buildings. He turned away from the destruction after taking one final glance at his handiwork. He needed to find a saloon. Killing everyone on a train was a lot of work after all.

Fortunately, The saloon wasn't one of the buildings that was struck by the train. Unfortunately, the destruction of several businesses had caused the owners to head to the saloon in order to drink away their losses, causing it to be far more packed than normal. As the teenage outlaw shoved his way through the saloon he ordered a bottle of whisky and slumped into the corner and into a chair, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. His thoughts were confirmed a few minutes later when an elderly man with a magnificent beard hobbled over and sat beside him, slowly handing over a wooden box. Rory snatched the box away with a snarl, causing the old man to flee at a speed which would normally only be possible via some magic.

The box was a plain wooden one, roughly a foot wide and half an inch long. Rory ripped the lid off and carelessly tossed it over onto the chair next to him, making a large clacking noise of wood against wood causing several of the less intoxicated inhabitants of the structure to look his way, however his glares scared most of them off. Those that continued to stare would later find themselves with a knife in the back or a bullet in the brain, but for now Rory was more concerned with the old mans box.

Now that the lid was removed, he could see a letter written in a familiar script. The same script he had come to memorize with an immense hatred. The same script that belonged to the man who had kidnapped his mother and enslaved him into his service.

"Good job kid. You followed my instructions perfectly. Using your distraction we were able to take a shipment from the mines that was going to be shipped off today. Your payment is included of course. The secondary purpose of your mission however didn't succeed. I had hoped that someone whom owes me a substantial amount of money would be taken care of when the train arrived, however the insufferable dolt managed to avoid death. This of course is only a minor setback, after all, backup plans are always necessary. His name is Alonzo Reed. Make it memorable."

Rory frowned, although it would have been hard to tell due to the bandanna covering his face. He knew he was being toyed with, and it angered him to no end. However what choice did he have but to obey until he could find a way to ensure his mothers safety?

JukeboxTheGhoul · Oct 28, 2016

In the blistering heat, no one could really tell the differences in a blur or a mirage. Nevertheless, a blur swished across the sky. The blur hurtled towards the radiant sandy earth. Just before impact they split apart, the colours coalesced in two human figures. One had a tall black top hat with red ribbon around the top of the brim. He had a velvet suit the colour of coal and a matching sensible red button-up shirt tucked in to his trousers which were suspended by gold hooks attached to his braces.

His bow-tie simply blended in to background of red. He had his coat done up around his fat belly. His face was bright and eager with a roll of plump flesh around his neck. His head was topped with slick back blond hair. He was shaking hands with another man who was twig-like in comparison.

Similarly dressed, but for a waistcoat instead of a full blazer. He had grown a moustache and a few more wrinkles from a late night at the office had appeared. The brown haired man wore a bowler hat stylized by a few stitched on cogs. The bottom of the coat was embroidered in a pattern of golden circles and flora. On the opening edges, in elaborate gold stitching was the name "WALTHAM". Around his waist was belt with an ornate belt buckle, that had his name embossed in it. In Mr. Waltham's left hand, he held his beak-handle cane.
"Well, Mr. Dwight, here we are."

"Thank you, sir, for your transportation. I usually manage this place from Southbridge." The mildly obese Mr. Dwight chuckled. "I don't get to visit often."
"That's probably why it is infested with miscreants." He checked his pocket watch. "My magic is just an asset, as you, your warehouse and the company which we now own is. Your previous employer left much to be desired. That is why, to save these assets from being squandered, you are under new management." Putting on his monocle, He took out a piece of tape with numbers across it and sized it up as a tailor would a suit. "Very well. Let's start the tour."
Dwight looked at Mr. Waltham as if he was out of his mind. "I have heard reports of many criminals congregating in there. It would be very unwise to go in there alone. Are you not going to bring some kind of bodyguard?"
Mr Waltham raised an eyebrow, "You doubt my ability? Where we're going, we don't need bodyguards"
"I did not mean to offend. My impression had not taken you for much of a combatant, nor do you have any weaponry save a walking stick."
"That is where you are incorrect, sir. Onwards."

He wedged the bird head in to the door hand and drew it open. Walking along the mine cart rails, the two entered, suddenly surrounded by a labyrinth of crates. A thug spotted him. "Oi, you're not supposed to be in here!"
"Oh really, am I not?" He jested as the man rushed at him, close to the ground as if to sweep him up with a rugby tackle. He threw his cane from his left hand up across his body. His right hand grabbed the bottom of the cane. He held it around his left side. The man's head got in to range. He swung. The back of the bird head handle collided with his temples, pushing him against the large wooden crate. The impact forced him to lose consciousness.

Now, the noise startled the others. Unsettled men cried out for their comrades. The air became thick with tension. Waltham and Dwight crossed a brief intersection in the blocks of goods. Down a corridor, they faced a man with a rusted crowbar. He yelled, "He's over here!" The man charged. He attacked. Mr. Waltham stepped aside. The man's club hit the plywood container, the hook wedging itself in. Mr. Waltham brought the bottom of the cane and socked the gang member in the stomach with bottom of it. The man doubled over, holding his belly. Waltham pierced the bird's beak in to the top of the throat, bottom of the mouth. The tip of the beak had a smudge of blood on it. He paused and inspected it, bring out a Grecian red and gold box pattern bordered handkerchief and rubbed off the blood.
"You seem quite talented with your weapon of choice." Mr. J. B. Dwight commented.
"I was simply commencing my display. Hold this." He handed the manager the foot of the cane.
"Certainly. You are my guest, after all." He smiled.
Mr. Waltham grabbed the handle and twisted it. He unsheathed a shining steel blade from within the cane. The blade was just shorter than the length of an arm. It has intricate detailing all the way down the middle, where ever so often letters would be placed in rings in the pattern, starting from the point. When you put the golden letters together, it spelt "WALTHAM."

He stepped around the box, taking the left path. The ground shook with a stampede of criminals. One of them skidded around the corner in front of Mr. Waltham. He primed his gun and aimed towards him. Mr. Dwight stepped back behind the crate. Mr. Waltham glowed then disappeared. The criminal looked left and right. Then and intense pain came from his stomach. He looked down and a bloody spike was sticking out.
Waltham withdrew the blade from the gang member, quickly slicing across the back of the neck. He walked past him with his peon close behind. He looked around mapping out the possibilities. "If you require, you may wield the shaft."

Mr. Dwight, who nervously clung to the middle of the sheath, relaxed slightly. He flipped it around and held it as one would a baseball bat. "Many thanks." He moved with an alerted gait, slightly hunched as much as his form would allow. Mr. Waltham continued forward past a four-way intersection. He saw a goon with a bandanna over his face and malice in his eyes. He ignored him. He rushed forward as a mad man brandishing his machete. Mr. Dwight was startled by the thug but managed to whack him in the face as he turned towards Mr. Waltham's back. The man was dazed. Mr. Dwight was triumphant.
Mr. Waltham swished around to face his underling. He clapped and then rubbed his hands together. "Excellent!" He picked up his sword again. "Now you are getting it. You shan't need that." Mr. Dwight threw over shaft to Mr. Waltham, who caught it mid-air.
"Good show." He commended Mr. Waltham's catch. "What do I use?"
"That blade." He pointed to the machete on the floor.
"Right-o."
"This part might get a bit hair-raising."
"I'm a brave man, I would have you know."
"They're scattered, I shall drop down. You shall take them down from the back while I have their attention." He quickly shined and faded away. He crouched atop the web of metal beams all over the ceiling which criss-crossed and entangled within themselves.

He held the sword in his hands and leapt off the beam. He hurtled toward the ground, heading straight for one of the gang members. He hit the target, using his momentum to crush the miscreant's spine and thrust the sword down through his head and back. Mr. Waltham swiftly used his teleportation to slow himself down. He stood up and looked around at the angry mob encircling him. "Where is my violinist when one needs him?"
They came after one. Sliced down by his blade. He used the cane to deflect people as the got close and the handle to kill another. He blinked in every direction. Stabbing and incapacitating everyone. Mr. Dwight took a few down with his stolen machete. All the while Mr. Waltham hummed a Waltz to himself as he danced his way around the clearing.
As the last one fell, they looked around, Mr. Waltham looked disgusted at his glove, "Such a waste."
Mr. Dwight echoed, "I agree." He tutted.
"It will be impossible to get this blood out of my nice new silk glove." Mr. Waltham complained. He took them off and wrapped them up and slid it in to his pocket. He hastily rubbed the sanguine taint off of the blade.
"It is quite the trouble to go through, I wonder why they did it?" Mr. J. B. Dwight was unsure.
Waltham was quite confident. "Is it not obvious? My rivals hired these thugs to hit my bottom line. A dastardly deed."
"Are you quite sure?"
"Quite."
"They seemed mighty fuelled. It seemed something more than a simple lust for money, something more sinister."
"Must you deliberate on the inconsequential? I have a meeting at eight and I want the tea to be hot when I get there." He checked his pocket watch.
"Do bear with me for just a moment." He fatly jogged over to a gang member, who he remembered had the strange tattoo. He got the body and dragged it over to his boss. He pulled down the collar of the corpse down past the shoulder. On the neck was a symbol;

a circle with a line curving from the inside to outside and around to the top. Above it said, "Hail Gaudium." and the bottom it said. "May Anaconda Reign Eternal"

Ice1 · Nov 1, 2016

Emmett Holliday
Status - Outlaw – Easy Target – Great, and I mean really great, Planner
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Water
Bounty - 2000$

Leatherface VIII: Remembering names

Ironhaven lay divided. In the middle, crown jewel to the clocktower, stood Leatherface. Down in the streets, by the sheriff's office, another group was gathering. Bounty hunters, law enforcement, and the odd outlaw in handcuffs. They were working on a plan of attack. On the other side of town, more nefarious folks were discussing a similar topic.

Emmett was bored.

"I'm bored."

The girl next to him and turned around. From her eyes, it was clear that she didn't care that Emmett was bored.

"I don't care that you're bored."

Emmett felt like that adequately described their current relation.

"I feel like that adekwit- adoui- ade- nicely describes our current relation."

Her eyes now lit up with fire. It was clear she wasn't going to put up with Emmett's behavior.

"I'm not going to put up with your shit."

Emmett sighed. The people on the small soapbox stage were describing a well-thought out, and thoroughly planned attack on Leatherface. So not his style.

"Giorge, Asper, Burt, you're taking Holliday, and we'll be attacking from the south, through Magistrate Street."

"Wait, I wasn't listening!" Emmett said. "Can we repeat the plan? I'd like a repeat."

Burt, the man who apprehended Emmett, or rather, stood next to Asper while she apprehended him, pulled Emmett up by his poncho, and dragged him out of the room. Asper and Giorge followed.

"Got it," he said, leaving the room a pleasant tranquillity.

"Fucking hell, you're a talkative one, aren't you?" he said, as he threw Emmett on the floor.

"And nothing but, sir," Emmett said. "So what's the plan?"

As soon as Burt started talking, Emmett started loudly humming.

Emmett grabbed the coil of rope and hung it over his shoulder. He blinked through the streets, now empty and showing marks of a hasty evacuation, making his best efforts to land in as much food as possible. Behind him carefully tread his three temporary companions, taking cover on porches, and quickly moving through the streets. Emmett had a good word for them: wimps. No good wimps, with a lack of courage. What happened to good old fashioned bravery?

"On your left!" Giorge yelled in a deep rumbling tone. Emmett blinked away and saw a crow fly in behind him. It cawed and flew up in the air. From over the buildings, more birds flew in. A pigeon, a vulture, a raven, and a colourful bird Emmett didn't recognize. The spread out, and dove down onto individual targets. Emmett quickly blinked around, but the birds just blinked along. These were Buzzard's men, and as he had learned in their catacombs, they were very well prepared to deal with blink.

"What's happening?" Asper yelled out, as purple fire spit from her hands, and engulfed the colourful bird.

"Buzzard," Burt said, as he jumped up, dodging a pidgeon. He got out his gun, throwing it up in the air. In the blink of an eye, it had transformed in a large cannon-barrel, large handles decorating the upside. The fuse on top was already lit. Emmett looked in surprise. He was completely stumped. A cannon, the guy had created a cannon. To hit birds. A cannon to hit birds. They were fighting birds, not flying castles, a cannon was the worst choi- The pigeon exploded as the cannonball made impact. All that was left were two tiny feathers fluttering down to the ground. Emmett stopped everything he was doing, just looking at awe, as did the raven he was trying to choke out. For a second they made eye contact, as if to say: "Did you see that?" The colourful bird cawed out, and quickly the three surviving avians flew away as quick as possible. Burt was smiling.

"Are these birds with the man on the tower?" Asper asked. Burt shook his head.

"I don't know, they don't seem to like each other." He pointed towards the clocktower, where three birds were assaulting Leatherface, standing on nothing but the air itself.

"Emmett knows more," Giorge said.

"No, what? I don't. I don't know anything. Do I look like someone who knows anything?" Emmett frantically waved his hands around. Burt and Asper looked at each other and nodded. Asper raised her hand, and Emmett's legs shocked, as they were pulled together, his hands snapping in place behind his back. His jaw was forced shut, but as Asper lowered her hand, he was able to talk.

"Leatherface was in Buzzard's custody here, and escaped, all credits to me thank you very much. Kinda just went wild after that, and now the bird boys are trying to get him back."

"I didn't know Buzzard had any men in Ironhaven," Asper said.

"I suspect they've followed Leatherface here, a-"

"No, they have like a whole underground base. It's pretty spectacular."

The ground started shaking, and the group quickly halted their conversation. Demolishing the stone wall that he appeared through, a big burly man entered the scene. Not just big, but really really big. As broad as he was tall, and he was taller than any man Emmett had ever seen. It surprised him they even made cowboy hats that big. Without turning his head, the man raised his arm and a shockwave crawled through the ground, knocking Emmett and his captors in the air. He caught Emmett from the air with a single hand, making him dangle in front of his face. He pointed towards the clocktower.

"Is that Leatherface?" He asked. Emmett nodded. The giant disposed of the boy over his shoulder, and continued his walk, breaking the buildings in his path without any sign of struggle.

Oddball_ · Nov 19, 2016

Rory Ryder West

Level 3: Outlaw | Fire/Electricity | Bounty: 1700$

Alonzo Reed was a wealthy buisnessman who owned several of the establishments in the town of Gilded Brook and lived in a big house in the middle of town. Or at least he did, before a train had smashed through the town causing mass destruction and devastation.

Reed Manor was heavily damaged in the chaos, its owner currently standing infront of the ruined abode and shouting orders at several hired hands. On the roof of the saloon a few hundred feet away stood the cause of all the current chaos. Rory Ryder West, the pyromaniac murder hobo whom was coming for Reed's head.

Blink. A surge of energy and suddenly the outlaw was on the ground, walking towards his target with the brisk walk of a determined man. Few people were on the streets at this time of day, but the few that were scuttled away as they saw the desperado appear before them, brandishing a worn looking sawed off shotgun in each hand.

"Alonzo Reed." Rory called out. His voice a roaring flame that caught the attention of everyone remaining on the street.

The dark skinned buisnessman turned to face the newcomer, a humored grin spreading across the mans face. "And who the hell do you think you are boy. Coming into my town dressed like that, carrying your guns like you own the place." The man paused to spit a slimy wad of tabbaco to the ground next to him. "Someone had best teach you some manners."

Rory snarled and blinked forward, landing less than thirty feet away from his target.

BANG! A blast from one of his shotguns filled one of the workers whom had pulled a gun out full of lead.

Gazing at the corpse of his hired help, Alonzo's smile faded and he turned to face the outlaw before him once more. This time his gaze was one of determination and anger, a gaze which was met by the burning red eyes of the outlaw. "I guess its high noon." The man spat, the wad of tobacco landing between the two.

Blinking forward Rory let out a blast of bullets towards Alonzo, however the man was fast despite his large stature. He was already crouched beneath a pile of bricks by the time Rory had materialized again. ("Sit still you-") Rory started to think to himself before he felt a hot metal slug dig into his leg. Glancing down, he could already see blood staining the cloth around his left leg where the bullet had found itself lodged. "Fucking bastard-" Rory groaned as he wheeled around to face the fasionable suit wearing individual wielding a cane that doubled as a gun of some form. Two shots rang out as Rory blasted the bricks apart, but the dark skinned buisnessman was already behind a tree, firing another bullet at Rory, who was just barely able to catch the little thing in his magnetic field before blinking forward and attempting to intercept the man who was already dashing for the cover of some barrels.

"You're gonna regret this punk!" Reed growled, trying to shove a knife into Rory's ribs. The latter however easily deflected the small blade and let out a swift kick, launching the older man across the yard and into a wheelbarrow.

"Look, in all honesty I don't know who you are. I'd much rather be cutting apart some whore in the desert somewhere and feeding her to my cat. Sadly, you pissed someone off, who is telling me to kill you. Which pisses me off, but hey. Orders right? But hey, Might as well have some fun. After all, you shot me in the fucking leg." Rory responded as he conjured a ball of flame in his hand and hurled it towards the prone man.

Seeing the ball of flame hurtling towards him. Alonzo Reed desperatly threw himself around trying to climb out of the wheel barrow, barely managing to tip it over before the orb of fire exploded over his head, showering red hot embers down onto him.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Reed screamed as he tried to aim his gun cane at the fiery desperado, only to have it leap out of his hands and fly into Rory's outstretched palm.

"Hm... Didn't think that would work. Let me guess, Lots of iron in the steel? Heavily magnetic... mind if I keep this?" Rory asked as he walked forward and examined the gun.

"I have men, they'll find you y'know. You and everyone you know and love" Reed hissed as Rory approached, his voice waverring as if he could feel his string of life about to be snipped away.

"Little known fact, I don't love anyone." Rory said simply as he kicked the man to the ground and forced the mans own weapon down his throat before pulling the trigger and splattering the dirt with bits of what once was a once dapper buisnessman. Rory smiled to himself as he began to wipe the gore off of his newly aquired weapon. Suddenly he remembered the shooting pain in his leg. ("Son of a-") He thought to himself as he rubbed his fingers against the bleeding wound. His healing magic wouldn't be able to remove the bullet, He'd have to do that once he was safe and alone. Maybe even find some quack who would have the proper tools for such a procedure. But for now he had better things to worry about.

"Oh good news everyone! Works all done, Don't think he'll be needing this place rebuilt any time soon." Rory called out to anyone whom had remained behind before looking up and blinking away from the ruined manor and back into the city of Gilded Brook to await for his next objective at a place that befit a classy gentleman like himself.

Sonata · Dec 7, 2016

'One After The Other'

Jebediah Kleutsch-Sanders, Bounty Hunter & Supposed God In Training
Level 3, Air and Water, $1,320
Silverston - Gilded Brook

It had been quite some journey already, and his destination was as of yet still unclear. Repressed memories had been brought back to the surface, along with feelings which he thought had long since been done away with. He realized even more so now that his enemies had taken so much from him, and his hands had only just started to take back. Yet with every step forward, it seemed that the number of enemies only continued to grow. Every man and woman that fell to his weapons produced two more in their place.

Perhaps... it was time for a change. If anything, whether his experience in the afterlife had been real or not it did speak some truth. He could no longer run headlong at his problems in hopes that they'd simply fall to the side in the face of his strength. Killing was only a temporary solution to the problem at hand. If all he could do was kill, it would only create more problems. More orphaned children, more angry families, more people seeking vengeance upon himself. Violence begets violence, and though there may not be any way to pacify his enemies at times he knew that the path of bloodshed was not the ultimate, nor the only one available to him. Some men and women can be talked down, and others can be made to bend to the will of those more powerful. If he could take out the head, then all the followers would fall in turn.

Jebediah sighed. The more that he thought, the more worried that he became. He knew that what he had experienced in death was real, but being kind and believing in the power and kindness of others can only go so far in the real world. Though everything in the afterlife had told him he was not cut out for violence at the scale to which everything was escalating, it was obvious that he couldn't get by without it. He had to succumb to his own inner demons to defeat those around him.

A flash of green-ish brown light lit up the northern sky and was followed by the prolonged howling of several wolves. Jebediah never had too many run-ins with the wildlife in this part of the world, usually either relying on his powers to carry him faster than they could keep up with or travelling by horseback or train to keep out of their reach. Either way, he had been taught enough in the northern schools to know about the creatures he felt staring him down from some ways off. In the distant north, he saw the pack approaching. Four, five, six... eight wolves in total. Each putting off a glow similar to that which had lit up the sky in their direction only a moment ago.

"Seems someone's been expecting me." Jebediah pulled the unlit cigar from his mouth and dropped it to the ground at his feet along with the two bounties he had continued to drag along with him. "Well, at least now I'll be able to test out these new powers of mine. Let's see how far the journey to godhood can push someone."

JukeboxTheGhoul · Dec 11, 2016

Bounty:3,000
Debt: 3,000,000

Elliott looked around at this odd... odd wasn't quite the word. These were madmen, and women, simultaneously holding him hostage and protecting him. He never really understood why they didn't kill him, though he was seriously thankful for it. He knew they tried to convert him, try to make him see their ?god?, but that really backfired. It still slightly hurt. The one called ?Anima? sat atop his high horse. The Native Jeiman woman, who thought it was a good idea to call herself Redeeming Shadow, was riding as an escort. Though he wasn't exactly sure what she'd be able to do up there, you can't hardly use a lever while on horse to reload. Using the bow would probably be as hard as hell. Sorry, ?Hard as ?the Astral Plane.?

The same with Martin-... Martar... Martirio. I mean what's a sword going to do? he's bringing a freaking sword to a gunfight? He's on a horse, with a sword. Everyone has a gun in the Wild... South, wait that doesn't sound right. Never mind, he was given the job to drive the horses. Thank Goodness, Cassie was back. He came around to the back of the cart. Cassie saw him out of the corner of her eye as she put the final parts of the camping equipment away and placed the lid on top.
?Ready for the trip?? Elliott rubbed his hands together as if he was a parent prepping his family for a r- Dirt-Track-Trip.
?Well, I need a horse first.?
?What, why??
?Because I'm a convoy escort. One man can drive a carriage, you know.?
?Uh, not if that one man can't drive a carriage.?
Cassandra eyed Elliott to see if he was serious. ?Are you kidding me??
?No. Can you drive??
?Fine. You've got a pistol given to you. I'll get you a horse.?
Elliott sucked air in through his teeth.
Cassandra rolled her eyes. ?You're tell me you can't ride a horse? How do you get around??
Elliott shrugged, ?I guess I mooch off people like you guys.?
She sighed, making her way to the front of the cart.

They made their way across the desert. The uneven road dropped under the wheel ever so often, the carriage rocked from left to right. He sloshed from side to side. The sun lowered down, piercing the horizon like a knife. The chill blew through and the crickets were replaced with the chattering of teeth. They trembled with shivers. As they passed a fork in the road, the convoy stopped.

Martirio rode up beside Anima. Anima turned to him without breaking his gaze with the horizon. ?What is it, my disciple?? He uttered in a deadpan voice.
Martirio sat up straight as Warhorse came to a stop. ?Bandit ambush, looking for loot. 3 miles ahead.?
?Are you sure??
?My Eagle-Eye spell has not failed me yet.? Martirio smiled.
?Take Shadow with you,? Anima agreed.
Obediently, Martirio pulled forward. Anima made a passing remark, ?Make their death painful.?
Cassandra parked the cart at the side of the road and started to unpack the camping equipment with the help of Ian. Elliott jumped off the front.
Cassie called over ?Temere, come help.?
?Nah, you're fine.?
Once one of the tents were built and a few crates were lying by the wayside. Elliott was inside the tent, inspecting his peculiar spell book. So many pages, yet so many were blank. In fact all of them were blank, ?just like your head? as his father would say. He liked to pretend this was an act, a jest. Like a court fool conjuring a rabbit out of a hat. But like a book with blank pages, he too was irregular. Yet this hadn't really been a giant concern of his while he's out saving the world, but there was some part of this that made him curious. Just maybe he could control his spells. He placed the book down. He summoned his magic. He concentrated. Maybe he should say the name of what he wants, something simple, like a light. ?Light.?

CRACK! In a boom of thunder the chilly cloudy night transformed in to a mass of confusion. With a roar of thunderous rage, a bombardment began. The thin sheet of the tent was pelted with numerous small pellets. It pattered down like rain but once they hit, a black smudge slid down the outside, building at base of the tan tent. ?That wasn't supposed to happen.?

The rain intensified, the wind morphed in to a gale. Elliott stood up, but just at that moment the space he was in began to convulse and spasm, shifting and twisting. He stumbled through as though he was drunk. He peeled apart the two flaps, and what greeted him was falling diamonds. Glistening, immaculate and beautiful, no bigger than a rain drop. They were everywhere. He couldn't believe his eyes, all these crystals could pay off his debt tenfold. Or, more importantly, he could bet them and triple his money. Overcome with giddiness, he dropped to his knees, filling his pockets to the brim. He took fistfuls of crystals as if he was scraping his way out of a shifting sandpit. He cradled the gems in his arms like a baby. A faint crackling sound began to arise as the wind forced the tent to collapse and flip over forward, narrowly missing Elliott's head.

Anima watched as the shining points fell from the sky. At first he was shocked, but soon became disillusioned. He jumped off his perch and adjusted his trench coat. He shouted over the torrential wind, ?Rawlings, get our supplies back on the truck.?
She nodded and flew in to action. Ian sighed and pushed the crate he was unloading back on the trailer. The crackling became louder. He walked around the cart and looked over to see the source of the sound.
His eyes widened with shock. ?Get out of there!?

Elliott was still catatonic. The translucent droplets in his embrace began to tinge a bloody red, they began to warm. Only until they began to sting did he notice, he instinctively dropped them, they slipped through his fingers. Coming out of it, he saw the clear refracting prisms turning an unnatural colour. Hairline fissures formed like a spider web around the gems. Elliott worked out that the crackling was not that at all. He turned around to see the riches behind him bursting.
The gems exploded in troves. The yield was that of a small hand grenade, but they crackled in groups one after each other like fireworks.
Elliott's heart raced. He rushed towards the cart. At his feet was a cacophony of explosions. This brought back warm memories. People making him dance; security, bounty hunters, dad, home owners, etcetera. Good times.

Rawlings hauled as fast as she could. She was narrowly outrunning the eruptions but they were gaining on her. The horses were holding as long as they could but they were getting very skittish. Luckily, Shadow talking with them on the way helped them remain calm.
Rawlings was taking too long. Anima reached out with his magic and levitated it over to cart.
Elliott made it to the edge of the field of treacherous rubies. He paused and took a sigh of relief. Ian came up to him, happy to see Elliott had escaped when he saw his coat pockets.
?Your pockets!? He exclaimed.
Elliott looked at them and frowned, ?Can't I just keep these ones??
?Elliott,? Ian was dumbfounded, pressing his hands together ?They're going to explode!?
?Good point.? He started shuffling the jewels out of his deep pockets and dropping them on to the ground, in front of him.
?Just throw the god-damned coat!? He screamed over the wind.
Elliott reluctantly nodded and tore away the coat and threw it in to the pit of raining death. The craters that littered the ground made it look like No Man's Land, ironically, inside the heart of the Frontier.
Ian grabbed the side of the cart. Rawlings snapped the whip, yelling ?Hiyah!? Elliott had never seen horses accelerate so quickly. He realised they were escaping without him! He bolted after the cart.
The cart in front, and behind a cluster of death. He leapt forward, grabbing a plank of wood. He was dragged horizontally through the gale. His body flapped up and down like a flag. He struggled to get a second arm forward to hold on. Until a hand was brought in front of his face. Elliott blindly gripped the hand. It tugged him up on to the back of the cart. Ian let him go once he was secured.
Elliott frowned, a clenched fisted resting against his brow
"Damn it."
?What's wrong??
?That coat... was bought with Waltham's money.?

Debt: 3,000,000 + His Coat

Sonata · Dec 14, 2016

'Rise'

Jebediah Kleutsch-Sanders, Bounty Hunter & Supposed God In Training
Level 3, Air and Water, $1,320
Silverston - Gilded Brook

Wolves. Lots, and lots of fucking brown wolves. Jeb was rushing towards the ethereal beasts with his guns drawn, firing in the direction of the monsters. Each shot hit its mark but only one or two of the beasts fell, instantly bursting into a brownish gas. From the corner of his eye, the man watched in horror as the fumes began to converge and thicken, two wolves took the place of each that had fallen before it. As the bounty hunter clashed with the beasts, he began to feel nauseas as the breath of the beasts came down on his face. He easily ripped through three of the creatures with his blade and then shot down two more quickly without using any of his magical abilities. But as with the first two, all the others that he felled followed the same process as their brethren. Each wolf that fell in battle dissolved into a brownish gas and then solidified into two more wolves both equal in size to the first.

?Yer fuckin? blowin me aren?t ya? This is just like fuckin? hell.? Jebediah sighed and pulled his hat off his head, tossing it to the side. ?Guess that?s Jeimas for you though, eh??

?Yeah,? another voice sounded in his head, near identical to his own. Though the voice was different in its tone, it felt somewhat familiar and even filled the bounty hunter with a sense of warmth. ?Just means there?s more fun for us then eh, old friend??

All at once it clicked. The voice, this nostalgic warm feeling in his chest; this was the same Jeb that he?d confronted in the afterlife. This was the darkness that he had suppressed and that now lay dormant within himself, waiting for its chance to take over.

The man grunted, ?What do you want? I thought I?d got rid of you for good back there.?

?Now now, no need to be so rude. Did you really think you could destroy me? I am a part of you after all. Point is, I want to give you my power, my aid if you will. We may have? well? very different views on our life, but the same as you I don?t quite feel like dying yet.?

Jebediah blinked up to one of the wolves and sliced its head off before throwing the blade at another, shooting two of the wolves and then blinking over to his blade to shoot two more which now converged on the place he?d just been.

?Now don?t worry my pure and perfect little Jebby-web, I won?t try to take over. You?ve already shown that you?re more powerful than me when it comes to pure will. Even if I tried to take over our body with my superior strength all you would do is force your conscious back to the top and take our body for your own once more. I love to fight, but I don?t care for needless conflict. And I don?t mind to admit when a battle is a losing one.?

Jeb was starting to feel the wear on his body as he took down the third wave of familiars. blinking all over the place and tearing up his body with near misses, swinging his sword all about and firing his guns in every direction was not only tiring, but also dizzying. Trying to carry on this inner monologue with his own self only added to the strain and caused those near misses with the familiars to become close scrapes. The longer the conversation and the battle carried on, the closer he would come to eventually tuckering out and dying.

?Unlike you Jebediah, I don?t believe that either of us have any true limits. Our power is absolute, as we?ve been shown by being told that we are meant to be gods once we?re gone. There?s an entire world out there in the afterlife for us to rule over, and because I?m secure in our fate and place in that afterlife I can fight at our fullest potential. My mind is racked with worry for our body, unlike you I can go without feeling the pain that comes with our overexertion. I can last longer, hit harder and move quicker than you could ever hope to. I am our peak condition and you must already know that. Although you did come back from our kingdom stronger, you?ve really only got half of the power you truly should.? The voice paused, letting the words that he had spoken sink in while his other half fought an obvious losing battle. ?Give in to me Jebediah. Set me free and allow me the joy that comes with crushing our enemies.?

Two bulges began to form on jebediah?s back as he listened to himself. The familiars continued to grow in number as the bounty hunter began to struggle with keeping up. Every fifth or sixth familiar would manage to scrape its claws or teeth across one of the man?s limbs, causing him to wince and lose his balance. If this kept up much longer, there wouldn?t be anything left of him. Finally giving in to the fact that there was no end to these beasts, he opted blinked a few times in the direction opposite of the familiars putting a sizeable distance between them.

?Fine.? Jebediah keeled over, holding his chest as he breathed heavily from exhaustion. Holstering his guns and sheathing his sword, he closed his eyes and sighed. ?Just this once. I?ll let you take over for now.?

?As you wish, my lord.?

Jebediah?s mouth split into a menacing grin as his skin began to darken to a greyish color. His eyes were black as pitch as the lumps on his back exploded outwards in the form of a massive pair of wings. The man rose into the air with a few mighty flaps, the rest of his body contorting, ever so slightly causing him to grow shorter as the bones readjusted themselves to make up for those now being used in the wings.

?The damned has come to reap the sinners. First I?ll take your beasts, and then I?ll take yer shitty fuckin? lives!? The bounty hunter cackled from up above his enemies, reveling in the strength of his new powers. ?You?ll make a fine addition to our collection.?

Jebediah pulled the pistols from their holsters and bit his lower lip, his eyes open wide as blood trickled down his chin. His wings flapped once more, and then he was back in the fray.

Oddball_ · Dec 23, 2016

Rory Ryder West

Level 3: Outlaw | Fire/Electricity | Bounty: 1700$

"Okay... now uh... I just have to remove the bullet. Oh golly gee, thats a lot of blood. How did you say this happened?" An elderly gentleman mumbled to himself as he hovered over Rory's leg.

"****ing gun, what else? Aren't you rather chatty. I'm not paying you to talk, I just want the damn slug out of my leg." Rory howled in frustration as the spectacled man dug a metal rod deeper into his leg.

"Oh uh, sorry, I'm just trying to... not think about... all the uh..." The wrinkled face of the doctor shining from all the sweat covering him.

("Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Don't blast him with a ball of flame yet, you need him to remove the bullet.") Rory grunted and tried to calm himself down.

"Ooh! I thinl i've... wait... no yes i've got it!" The elderly doctor gasped as he ripped the twisted metal slug from the outlaw's leg, spraying blood all over the table as he rushed to press a rag to the wound. "Now you'll need to let this heal before you put any real weight on it. No hard labor for at least a few weeks." The elderly man stated as he tied a bandage across the wound.

"Whatever." Rory muttered as he pressed his hand against the wound and began to channel healing magic into the wound.

"Now i'll jus- " The elderly man stopped as a loud crack erupted from his back. As the doctor slumped to the ground, a young boy of around thirteen or fourteen stood behind him in the shadows, a fist retracting from where the old man's neck would have once been.

"Hmph. You don't look that impressive." The boy sighed, folding his arms over his chest and watching Rory intently.

"Who the **** are you." Rory grunted as he slid himself off the table he had been sitting on and lighting his hands with a red hot flame.

"Names Levi, but you can call me Sir. I am your boss now after all." The boy explained as he stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing a long white duster coat, which was covered in various shades of mud. The boy's hair was long and spiky, a dark brown shade that seemed familiar to Rory for some reason. His eyes were bright green, and he bore a devious grin that made Rory want to punch him in his teeth.

"...You have got to be kidding me." Rory growled as the kid began to pull out a familiar looking piece of parchment from within his coat.

"Afraid not buddy. Father says you're going to help me. See, my previous bodyguard decided to try and make off with a train full of guns that I was supposed to be overseeing. It was my first real job, and the help think that because i'm new they can just do whatever the **** they want." Levi explained, an aura of frustration emminating from the young teen.

("I'm going to kill that son of a *****, first he has the stones to kidnap my mother and now he has the damned nerve to send me his brat and tell me to ****ing babysit?! He'll be lucky if I don't snap the kids neck and mail him the corpse piece by ****ing piece Rory mentally roared.

"Lets get this ****ing over with." Rory grunted in defeat.

"Aw, I was kinda hoping I would have to teach the doggy to heel." The teen snorted.

BANG!

gimmepie · Jan 1, 2017

Alex Rose

Meeting Flint

Janet was disturbed from reading through a stack of wanted posters by the sound of a knock at her door. Sighing, the elderly woman dropped the stack onto the worn coffee table in her lounge room and took a sizeable swig of her very black, very alcohol infused morning coffee. Sure, it was probably bad for her ageing, crippled body to pump it full of caffeine and poison but Janet had never been much for giving a fuck.

Slowly the former bounty hunter got to her feet and walked to the door, sliding the slip of wood from the peephole at which point she froze in place. Squinting through the grimy glass of the hole she could see the form of a man a few years younger than herself with a thick mat of dirty grey hair and matching grizzly beard a moustache. Despite his age he appeared to be fit and healthy with a strong build, sun scorched skin and an attire suggesting he spent more time outdoors than in with dust and sand covered vest and trousers being covered by a heavy woollen coat. At his hip was a holster containing a large revolver. Janet's felt her brown contort at the sight of the man. She wrenched open the door.
"What the fuck are you doing here? Horseshit like you isn't welcome around here."
"As amicable as ever I see."
"I said what the fuck do you want - and who do you think you are just walking into my house?!" Janet hissed as the man casually stepped through the door.

He looked around briefly before choosing to sit on the arm of one of Janet's rickety old chairs.
"I want your help."
"Get out." The man continued unperturbed, despite his presence being very clearly unwanted
"Things are stirring up right now. This Veralice thing is wandering around killing on a whim, the Night Wolf is moving again, Buzzard's men have been crawling all over the area around Ironhaven, some upstart killed Tess and now her faction has split up and is basically going to war on each other and Reeve has been spotted… and not just Reeve - "
"I know all this shit, Flint." Janet glared at the intruder as she spoke "Not only do I know it but you are the last fucking person I want to be hearing this report from. If you'd had some fucking balls in the past Reeve wouldn't have even been born."

The man, Flint, sighed.
"I'm not here to do this shit again."
"Then maybe you shouldn't fucking be here."
"I wasn't going to kill my daughter. No sane parent would."
"I would."
"I thought I said Sane?" Flint retorted, his attempt at composure gradually falling apart. "We aren't all cold blooded and made of stone like you, Janet. She's not a bad person, she doesn't want to kill anyone and she's my kid. Sometimes the right fucking thing to do is the wrong thing."
"A dangerous criminal went free and I'm a cripple. Go fuck yourself."

"For fu-" Flint begun, but stopped mid sentence as he realised that the pair of them were no longer alone. Standing just beyond the boundary of the still open door, Alex and Elias looked on at the rapidly escalating argument having just arrived to hand over the corpse of the half-man Elias had killed.
"Sorry to intrude." Alex said with the kind of smirk that suggested he wasn't sorry in the least. Elias just remained silent, shifting his gaze between the three other people. "You weren't in the office and I don't want to carry this hunk of meat around all day." Janet levitated the body into the room, the corpse hovering in front of her, and removed the woollen blanket covering it. At the sight of the man with fading midnight skin, she raised her eyebrow.
"Looks like you've caught yourself quite the catch there. No wonder you and whoever the fuck this is look like shit."

"Thanks you old bitch." Elias muttered under his breath
"I'm old not deaf. Watch your tongue or I'll rip your dick off."
"What the fuck!" Elias remarked, as per usual, before an exasperated Alex interrupted.
"Actually the bounty is Elias' on this one. I had to cash mine in at Ironhaven but don't worry I'll still give you your cut or whatever."
"This weak shit?"
"Hey-!" Elias interjected again, insulted, but was quickly silenced by Alex confirming that Elias had indeed been the one to kill Veralice's follower, before continuing on.
"Anyway, he needs work. Got anything for him?"
"Actually I do." This time it was Flint who interrupted, earning him another death glare from Janet.

Flint ignored this for the most part and continued talking to Alex and Elias.
"That's why I came here. I'm going after a bounty and I want some back up. Shouldn't be too much trouble but you can never be too safe and it's been awhile since I hunted anyone so some fresh, young eyes would be useful. You two interested?" Janet looked at Flint as though she was pondering what he was up to, but chose not to say anything. Elias on the other hand looked terrified at the prospect, so Alex chose to answer for him.
"Not me. I have another bounty to go after so I'm going to head over to what's left of Wrench tomorrow. Elias here though, would be grateful for the opportunity."
"What the fu-"
"Excellent. Let's get moving then, we're going towards Silverston so we don't have time to screw around here."
"Now?!"
"Yes now. Stop whining and let's move." Flint grabbed Elias by his collar and lead him out of the house.
"Try not to get killed or anything." Alex smirked as the horrorstruck Elias was more or less dragged past him.

"Fucking Flint…" Janet grumbled, but before Alex could ask just who the old man was, she changed the subject.
"The fuck you going to Wrench for?"
"Pretty sure you can figure it out."

Ice1 · Jan 25, 2017

Emmett Holliday
Status - Outlaw – Last Resort
Sorcery Level - 2
Element - Water
Bounty - 2000$

Leatherface: Confrontation

Emmett had the air knocked out of him. To compensate, he got twice the vision, though, as everything started doubling up in his periphery. The giant continued his march, slowly making his way to the tower. Asper, Giorge and Burt ran towards Emmett, to check the damage on their hostage. Burt grabbed Emmett's poncho and pulled the kid up.

"We're returning to the sheriff's office. We need a new plan of attack."

"What, why, we only started this one like a minute ago," Emmett protested.

"We're not equipped to deal with that." Burt pointed at the giant.

"If we were equipped to deal with Leatherface we could deal with mostly everything, right?" Asper asked. Burt shook his head, and started to walk towards the sheriff's office.

"It's checks and balances, this. We were prepared for Leatherface, but you don't just rush into the Cannonball."

"Rushing in is kind of my thing," Emmett quipped.

"And look where that got you."

"Point taken, buuuuut what if we just did it anyway?"

A sigh from Asper coincided with the magical restraints tightening around Emmett's joints.

-

Burt rolled out the map of the city, Asper seemed to immediately take note of which routes had been changed or altered by Leatherface's destruction. Giorge kept his eyes on Emmett, instead. Emmett was trying to force his jaw open and let his tongue slither through between his lips. It didn't give in.

"Okay, so Leatherface still controls the clock tower, but Buzzard's men are on the offence. Cannonball is advancing in a straight line here" - he drew a line with his finger to demonstrate – "while we have two groups attacking from the other side of the city. They're unaware of Cannonball or Buzzard's men, and because Emmett's the only one with considerable speed, we can't bring them up to date. Which means The original plan was to surround Leatherface and take him out before he could take all twelve of us out. With Buzzard's men involved, however, we cannot rely on that tactic anymore, as they've shown to be more than willing to attack us. If we shared a goal, we could probably take them out, but I have no reason to believe they would be interested in engaging in a dialogue."

"Who's this Cannonball figure?" Giorge asked. "I've never heard of him."

"Used to be a Northern mercenary, but he moved down here around a year ago. He's major trouble. Suspicion is that he works for Buzzard now, but there's never been confirmation of that. We'll have to see if he's a fourth party in this conflict or if the rumours hold true."

Asper was on the brink of opening her mouth as a short man burst into the office. He was filthy and had blood splatter covering him.

"Thank God I've found you guys," he wheezed. He let himself rest against the doorframe. "We're done for."

"What?"

"Ian's group's dead. Only me and Fyers left from our group. We tried to attack Leatherface, but he summoned those bird-things or whatever-"

"They're not birds, they're Buzzards men," Asper interjected.

"Seriously? He works with Leatherface?"

"No, no. It's complicated. And this fucks us over even more."

Burt kept silent. He grabbed the map, turned it around, and then held it up. He tore it in half violently, and crumpled the paper.

"We only have six people left?" He asked

"Five and a felon," Giorge said.

"Yes. And I don't think Fyers is going to be of any use. He's alive, but not much more than that. So make that four and a felon."

"Okay." Again, Burt engaged through silence. His word lingered, and nobody reacted to break the tension. Emmett didn't purely because he was unable to.

"We engage. From one side, we go all out," Asper said. "I can't guarantee we'll win, but we have to try right?"

"I'm not going to sacrifice my life for a lost cause," Giorge said. Asper shook her head.

"We're not going to sacrifice ours. We're going to sacrifice his," she said, pointing at Emmett. Emmett's eyes widened. He'd have thrown in a "I don't think so" if he was actually capable of speech at the moment.

"I got him on lockdown, so he can't move away or do anything too dangerous without us retaliating. Meanwhile, I buff him up with range and speed. Giorge, you can shield him, and Burt can keep the birds from going after him. It should give him a fair one to one with Leatherface."

"I don't think it's a fair one to one ever, when it comes to Leatherface. What makes you think he can win?"

"I don't think he can. But if he wins, we killed a big bad in the making and have a second rate mad man in custody. If he loses, we've only lost a second rate mad man."

"I see where you're coming from. I think this is the best way to proceed," Burt said. "I don't think there are any other options."

-

Emmett was surrounded by a faint yellow glow. As if his appearance hadn't been vandalized enough. Despite that, Asper's magic did make him notably more capable. The distance he travelled with a single blink seemed to have doubled, and he ran at a speed he doubted was possible without some magic to juice him up.

Giorge followed him across rooftops, only a speck in the distance. Every single caster left was involved in law enforcement, and they seemed to have created spells catered towards keeping innocents alive. An incredibly stupid thing to waste a spell on, Emmett had thought. There were infinitely more fun things one could do with their spells. Emmett did see a good use for this speed buff spell that Asper had. It would be great to give any slow-moving chaser a nice and fair chance to keep up with him.

Buzzard's men were numerous. Emmett saw at least twelve birds flying around the dulled out sky, constantly engaging Leatherface. They seemed to have something to protect them from his reality warping abilities. It was a strange sight to see the ground twist up, pierce one of the crows, for it only to keep flying, and try to attack Leatherface. His spells still worked on himself, though, and he twisted his body into impossible curves to let the birds pass by. From their point of view, it would've looked like they had hit him, only for him to shrug it off and continue fighting.

As Emmett neared, two birds started their offence on him. They dove down on him, aiming for his head, but Emmett blinked away to appear thirty feet above them. He got butterflies in his stomach as he saw the ground near, both from fear of death and endless excitement. This increased range took some getting used to. The birds, who had previously countered his blinks by following them, were handled by Burt. They had to turn around mid-air to follow Emmett, as Burt had shut down their blinking capabilities. Emmett aimed with his shoe for the bigger of the two, a big crow. As the outlaw and the avian neared each other, the bird pulled in its wings and pulled to the side, letting Emmett harmlessly pass. Emmett blinked only moments before he hit the ground and again appeared above the birds.

He grabbed his gun from his holster, charging his spell and took aim, as the other bird charged him. Again he had to blink aside, which completely ruined his positioning. He wasn't made for aerial combat.

Both birds swirled around each other, as they dived down towards Emmett. He waited just a fraction of a second longer this time to blink away, almost feeling the impact he narrowly avoided. One of the birds managed to dodge the nearing ground, but the other hit it full force, leaving a bloody mark on the rooftop. It started to morph back into a human, who quickly hid.

Leatherface had now noticed what was happening, but hadn't been able to react, as Cannonball engaged. He jumped up, trying to straight up punch the parchment of his target's face. He had an incredibly high leap, for someone of that size. The punch connected, even to Emmett, and the effect was undeniable. Leatherface was knocked back, only rescued by a building that bent up and twisted towards him for the catch.

Birds flew towards him, even the one that had been attacking Emmett. They dived down, but Leatherface was too quick. The building developed little feet on the bottom and side of it, and started crawling away at a ludicrous pace. Cannonball grabbed a shotgun from the holster hanging of his side, which in itself was insane already, and fired. The ammunition gravitated towards each other mid-air, and formed a big cannonball that tore a hole inside the building Leatherface stood on. Funnily enough, as Leatherface's building moved, the hole stayed stationary, signaling Emmett that it was actually something else that had been hit.

"Emmett," Leatherface yelled out. "Enjoying the chaos?"

Emmett nodded and smiled, as all of a sudden a wooden fist emerged from Leatherface's rideable residence and grabbed him.

"Come along then." The flock of birds followed them, as Cannonball started walking again. He was slow, but it seemed nothing bothered him, breaking through every wall he encountered.

"Shoot the birds," Leatherface said.

"I don't take commands," Emmett said, and immediately the wooden fist that held him started squeezing. "Okay, I'll shoot the birds, I was planning on it anyway."

Emmett let the moisture pull towards his weapon and fired his ice ball. Because the formation Buzzard's men held, it hit its target and forced it them to fall down on another bird.

"Can't breathe," Emmett whizzed, and blinked out of the grasp of the hand. He appeared in the middle of the flock, which put him eye-to-cannonball with another one of Cannonball's shots. Quickly he blinked away again, and the heap of steel took out another three of Buzzard's men. The others spread, circling the air, but refraining from attacking. It seemed like they didn't feel like continuing this battle anymore.

Emmett blinked towards Cannonball, landing upon his shoulder.

"Don't throw me off please, I'm trying to make this my thing," Emmett uttered only moments before being smacked against the ground. Cannonball just grumbled, and kept on walking.

"You're not going to keep up with him, you know. I can help," Emmett smiled deviously as he spoke. Without waiting for confirmation, he grabbed Cannonball's hand and blinked. Cannonball didn't come along, though, as should have happened. He kept on walking, although now with his shotgun aimed at Emmett. He fired, the shotgun shells ready to form a new cannonball mid-air. Before it could hit anything though, it bounced off against a transparent, shimmering shield. Giorge had made his first move. That guy was useless. Emmett didn't mind, because things were usually more fun without shield than with, but he had made the observation. He chained three quick blinks to appear next to Giorge, who had hidden himself behind cover on one of the higher rooftops.

"Get back in there," he yelled.

"Just came by to say you're useless," Emmett said. The moment he wanted to blink, he heard Giorge scream out. Undoubtedly, Leatherface had gotten to him, and Giorge saw how Emmett was currently seeing the city. Twisted spires with bodies pierced, and a walking building with bug legs. Leatherface smiled and waved, accompanied by an unidentified crunching noise.

"Now, for my next trick," he yelled, only to be hit by a cannonball in the back of the head. Everything started to flicker for Emmett's eyes, and the city returned back to normal. Cannonball slowly continued his pacing through the barren streets towards Leatherface. He was laying knocked out on the ground. Emmett turned his head to meet Giorge's eyes, but the man lay on the rooftop bleeding out.

Examining the wound on his neck, Emmett shook his head.

"You're going to bleed to death if we don't get you some help immediately!" He exclaimed. He blinked away, towards Leatherface's body. They made eye-contact, and Leatherface pressed his fingers to his lips, and made hand gestures that were incredibly clear. If you talk, I'll end you. Cannonball approached.

"Scurry off, kid," he said. Emmett was in a bit of conflict. He'd love to keep the brawl going with Cannonball, but the only reason Leatherface hadn't killed Emmett was because he hadn't wanted to. Now, he could within the blink of an eye, without giving Emmett the chance the react. As bad as it felt to think, it wasn't worth it.

Cannonball grabbed Leatherface, and put him on his shoulder, before he started walking back. Emmett was met with a smile and a wink from the parchment-faced outlaw before he felt the magical restraints tie around his body.

Oddball_ · Jan 30, 2017

Rory Ryder West

Level 3: Outlaw | Fire/Electricity | Bounty: 1700$

The forms of Rory and Levi not so gracefully landed on the ground behind the set of conveniently placed barrels on the main street of Gilded Brooke as the two of them loaded bullets into the cylinders of their guns as the sounds of screams and gunshots echoed overhead.

Once they finished, the murdering pyromaniac bandit and the young teen crime lord in training rose from behind their cover and began firing at the strange gang members in torn white dusters whom had begun shooting up the city moments before.

"Seriously, of all the times for the Wayne gang to attack the city. They couldn't have waited until five minutes AFTER we left?" The dirt covered young Levi complained as he held both hands on his revolver and fired a carefully aimed headshot into the nearest goon's forehead, splattering brain matter and gore across the wall of the saloon.

"Wayne gang? Never heard of them." Rory grumbled as he jumped over the barrels and began to dash forward, his body becoming charged with a violent electrical aura that caught the bullets that came near him in the magnetic field before being repelled and sent back at their shooters in a shockwave of thunderous energy.

Suddenly the filthy olive skinned hand of one of the gang members grabbed onto the bandit's arm and spun him around before releasing him and delivering a punch straight to the outlaw's gut. Rory hit the ground with a thud, sparks flying from his mouth as his concentration on the spell was temporarily thrown off as the big hulking goliath of a gang member lifted him off the ground and prepared to punch him once more.

Meanwhile, Levi was having some trouble of his own as he struggled against a black-haired woman who was currently pinning him to the ground with a knife pointed towards his heart that he was desperately trying to push away. However as two of the thugs came crashing through the walls of the saloon as they struggled to fight off a big cat which was currently sinking its teeth into the blood-stained neck of one and clawing frantically at the shredded arms of the other, Levi brought his head up and smashed it into the forehead of the woman who swore loudly in some native language.

"Sorry sister, but I prefer to stay on top." Levi grunted as he grabbed the revolver which had fallen next to him and fired it into the woman's head as she rolled away and recoiled in pain.

The young outlaw then climbed to his feet and saw the men struggling with the Lynx as he checked his gun only to find it was empty. "Come on guys, it's a little sad when the cat is less of a pussy than you are." Levi growled as he pulled a knife from his boot and flung it forward, slitting the throat of the mangled outlaw before sticking into the wooden boards of the building behind him as the Lynx growled triumphantly as it tore out the jugular of the surviving goon, spraying the feline in a crimson fountain.

Suddenly an explosion of wood caused Levi to roll out from behind the barrels as the half-melted face of the large bandit came smashing through the barrel to his right. As ended up beneath a nearby wagon he saw the form of Rory reaching down to pick up the burned man by his throat.

"Listen here you little shit." Rory started as his hands once again became wrapped in the orange fire that began to hungrily lick at the large bandit's flesh causing it to blister and pop as Rory only tightened his grip. "You might think you and your crew are bad because you've got a matching uniform and some rough tough boss guy." As he spoke Rory spat in the man's face. His saliva as red as the embers that fell from what remained of the man's face. "But I'm the devil that even hell couldn't hold… and now? You're going to burn with me" As he finished speaking Rory let out a roar that caused his entire body to erupt into flames, causing Levi to shield his eyes.

Rory grunted in the sort of primal rage one only feels when they can see the red mist of bloodlust takes on over. He held the smoldering skeletal remains of the now cremated outlaw in front of him and stared into the eye sockets of the skull before ripping it away from the rest of the corpse and shambling towards the few remaining goons.

"So. Who wants to die next. Oh! I know. We'll let your buddy decide!" Rory cackled as the flames began to fade away, his voice remaining a high-pitched laugh as he tossed the skull between his hands. "Did you hear that? He said YOU." Rory snarled in the high-pitched voice as he threw the skull forward towards a nearby goon, smacking him in the head and causing bits of the charred bone to fall away as Rory pulled one of his shotguns off his belt and took aim. Several shots rang out at that moment, the bullets all grazing the sides of the extremely pissed off outlaw as he fired several rounds into the corpse before him.

Suddenly an excessively loud whistle rang out and Rory and Levi both turned to see a dust cloud approaching on the horizon, with several white coated riders galloping their way at full speed.

"Rory, that's Virgil fucking Wayne. We need to go!" Levi shouted to the Outlaw who was still walking towards the now retreating gang members.

"Get going then. I'm going to kill every fucking one of them. This is more fun than I've had in a long time!" Rory cackled hysterically as he went to reload his shotgun once more, only to find that he was out of ammo as well. "Or… on second thought we can always come back." He muttered as he found himself suddenly sobered and in pain as he blinked backwards and wrapped an arm around his teenage companion whom was carrying the blood covered feline form of his cat familiar before blinking away once more, this time away from what little remained of the burning town of Gilded Brooke.

[Other FULL] Gunpowder (M) (IC)

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