Deathshadowed - . - Tumblr Blog

Which God chooses you?

Rot, the God of What Remains

She has mushrooms growing between her gnarled fingers, her skin blackened and loose from her body. Every candle gutters and dies as her dark mass pools beneath you. When she rises, it is with the odour of the swamps. Her eye sockets are empty, yet still her gaze rakes through your very soul. "Oh, my dear." Her muddy voice bubbles and froths. "I call you to a harsh life. They will hate you for what you are. Death-keeper. Worm-eaten. Maggot-crawler. But even the gods die." She raises a filth-ridden finger to your forehead and paints her mark - a dirt streak, right to left, cold and clammy against your skin. "Life brings death, and death brings decay. Natural as the fallowing of the fields." Her mouth is a black pit, toothless yet still grinning. You feel your skin growing cold, clammy; tears break out across your skin, yellowed bone poking through, but there is no pain. Just a muddy dampness. "Ssh," she says, holding her finger to your lips. "You are mine, now."

𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫. Ṣ̸̀o̷̖̒ul̴̖̃s̴n̶̔at̸c̴̍h̵̥͝e̸̾r.̷̺̑

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝐨𝐫 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖊𝖉; D̵̰̘͗͐e̸͚͑͆ȃ̶̆͐̆t̵̀̐̎ḩ̴̨̬̀ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫

+𝟏𝟖 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐎𝐂 & 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥-𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞; 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧: death personified, self exile in order to protect others, effects of solitude, a past that was left behind but resurfaced viciously, tremendous amount of power and potential purposely kept locked away, yet an another Véghváry who has no idea she's been cursed, wicked great marksmanship, buried six feet under but the coffin is already empty, unique way of dealing with souls, the neutral harbinger, the lone rider, swift justice

♡ /↻ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

𝓓𝓪𝓶𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮

what kind of tragedy are you?

wrong place, wrong time

it shouldn’t have been you. oh my love, you should have lived. if only. if only you had made a right instead of a left. if only your friend hadn’t had so much to drink. if only it hadn’t rained last night. then everything would be fine. a butterfly could have flapped its wings at another time and you would have have been fine. safety was so close, and yet so far. but alas, the stars just had to align.

"YOU CAN'T..." PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

you can't go any further than that.

you can't intimidate me.

you can't be serious!

you can't do that anymore, not here.

you can't tell right from wrong.

you can't go back the way you came.

you can't stop me from trying.

you can't do this to me again.

you can't keep it down for two seconds?

you can't lie to my face like that.

you can't take them with you.

you can't ask me to do that.

you can't go back on your promise.

you can't be with me if you act like that.

you can't help yourself, can you?

you can't know everything.

you can't save them.

you can't leave me here to die.

you can't just look me in the eye and tell me the truth?

you can't honestly expect me to believe all that.

you can't stop now.

you can't stop the truth from coming out.

you can't do all of this by yourself.

you can't say no to me.

you can't keep up this facade for long.

you can't just stay here.

you can't give up, not when we're so close.

you can't go out there in the cold.

you can't spend the night here.

you can't forget what i said.

you can't even wait for me to finish.

you can't make plans and then not show up.

you can't abandon me.

you can't survive this.

you can't keep all your feelings bottled up like that.

you can't lift this all by yourself.

you can't be who they want you to be.

you can't keep lying to them.

you can't expect me to just sit here and let you handle it.

you can't escape your father's shadow, can you?

you can't believe in yourself, and it shows.

you can't take anything seriously.

you can't be what i need.

you can't come with me; you'll only slow me down.

you can't sleep there!

you can't drink out of that!

you can't go out in this weather.

you can't reach it in time.

you can't solve my problems for me.

you can't make that choice for me.

you can't live up to their expectations.

Send a 🎧 and I will put my music on shuffle, then write a starter based on a lyric from the first song that plays

PROMPTS FOR PEOPLE WHO AREN'T USED TO KINDNESS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

what are you doing?

i can handle that myself, you know.

you didn't have to go out of your way to take care of me.

i'm not used to this. this caring thing.

thank you. don't ever do that again.

i thought you hated me, to be honest.

i didn't ask you to love me!

no one's ever actually just... sat down and listened to me.

i didn't think people like you existed.

is this normal for you? going out of your way like this?

i told you i had it handled. you didn't have to bother.

i... should probably thank you for that.

i don't know what to say. this has never happened before.

wait, that's mine. you fixed it?

you did all of this... for me?

that was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.

i'm kinda at a loss for words.

i wasn't expecting this from you.

you did all this for me?

i had it under control.

when did this happen?

how long were you planning this?

i'm not sure what to say. i'm not used to this.

i owe you one.

that was... very kind of you. thank you.

i'm just not used to people going out of their way to help me.

usually people just look the other way, but you actually care.

this is weird. is this what caring about someone feels like?

i could have handled it.

this must have taken you forever to arrange. and you did it all for me?

it would be easier in the long run if we went our separate ways.

i hate being in other peoples' debts.

i didn't want this to happen.

people around me don't last very long.

i feel like i'm screaming and screaming and no one hears me.

i'm in your debt.

how did you find that? i lost that ages ago.

you actually... listened to me?

no one's ever paid attention.

no one's ever put that much time in effort into something for me.

when did i say that?

i didn't ask you to care about me!

i'm easily missed. people don't pay attention to me.

i'm invisible most of the time.

it's easier for people to look the other way.

do you do this often? help people?

i'm surprised you're still here.

if you're expecting something in return, forget about it.

you came back?

why do you care about me so much?

i'm a lost cause. you should just forget about me.

what's the use? there's no point.

i don't even celebrate my birthday. no one cares.

you can't just make someone care about you.

i thought you left.

what is it about me that has you so worked up?

you're making a big deal out of nothing.

thanks for patching me up.

you... brought this here for me?

but i didn't ask for this! i didn't ask for any of this!

stop smiling at me like that.

high pain tolerance starters

“[Name], you’re bleeding.”

“How long has it been like that?”

“Did you dislocate a finger?”

“You’re slurring.”

“They say you almost died. You left it that late.”

“You’re snapping. Headache again?”

“You’re in a bad mood. Are you in pain?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Hey, why are you walking like that?”

“That’s a lot of swelling.”

“Where did you get that bruise?”

“Whose blood is that?”

“When you say your pain’s ‘4 out of 10′, that’s a normal person’s ‘8 out of 10′. We’re going to the hospital.”

“How did you not notice?!”

“If it hurts, it hurts.”

“I know you can manage it, you just don’t *have* to.”

“Holy shit, how long have you had this?!”

“[Name]? [Name]! Hey!”

“We’re a team. You need to tell me about this sort of thing.”

“That’s … a lot of blood, is that - oh, fuck.”

“Hey! Hey! Stay awake, okay? Stay awake.”

“It would have been a lot easier to treat if you’d mentioned it sooner.”

“You can’t keep hiding this stuff.”

“I need to be able to trust you to tell me when you’re hurt.”

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝

“I was actually thinking about target practice” it was only a half joke

The atmosphere somber and calm, a combination never thought possible between them since they crossed paths. For some reason, Karma wanted to preserve it. Let it linger a little longer. Silence was something she was perhaps too familiar with, more than content with letting him talk.

“I don't and even if I wanted to, can't put you in a box. Maybe there isn't a...large one for you but more smaller ones. Don't think that's a bad thing.” Karma said carefully, taking into account all that was said, the actual meaning of the celebration. No wonder he felt this way.

Society's judgments were also among the things she never understood and didn't even want to. So feeble, fleeting ways to waste already short lives.

“I think-” maybe she shouldn't. But...he opened up too, genuinely.

“I think I loved a man once.” she needed to sit for this, the admission already feeling like a raw wound further deepened

“It wasn't like in the tales, he wasn't a good man, it wasn't even supposed to happen and I never...never said it to him. Of course neither did he to me.” a shaky intake of breath, ivory strands of hair pushed back perhaps a bit too aggressively “Yet he made me feel like no one could. And I killed him.”

Karma remembered that day so sharply, amost as if more than a century hadn't passed since. The fear. The rage. The silent then hysterical pleas. The vast emptiness after which never left.

“He came to me gravely wounded. How he tracked me in that state is still a mystery. He wanted- wanted me to do it. I couldn't, could've never but he forced my hand. Knew I wouldn't have done it in self defense, of course he knew. Then with his last strength smiled and said ‘Now you're able to kill anyone.’ ” she recited, shoulders tense as a bowstring pulled tight. And how right he was.

Karma didn't speak about how he knew her before she got her famous scar. How they were rivals in the same business of death. The way his eyes looked like an exotic predator's. How his features softened when he smiled genuinely or let those sharp contours of his face relax. That he saved her horse after she was poisoned and he came to her on that dusk for that favor to be returned. How she tracked down the ones who wounded him and murdered both with utmost drawn out cruelty. And now how she was contemplating shooting the man who occasionally reminded her of him sitting next to her.

“Which box does this put me in?”

@deathshadowed asked:

“Wanna crash the parade or party with me?”

The offer perhaps somewhat surprising from the always calculative hunter preferring the shadows instead the loud crowd. “It's been a while for me...y'know, I wasn't really invited to any events in life either. Had fun with mariachis mostly. Which was of course almost a sin worthy of a hanging at that time.” a pause after the brief reminiscence, continuing with a more hushed tone “Those colored things, pins, scarves, do you pick which color combination you like or goes with your outfit? Or what's with that?”

The offer had Striker stunned for a moment, not having expected her of all people to suggest going or hanging out together because of it. It had him feel calmer, at least seen by her, weird as it may sound, it was nice to be given a choice.

"I appreciate the offer, but it'd not be the same, but I'd rather hang out instead of partyin', can't say I have a mood fittin' for celebrating." He'd let out a long sigh, putting his knife down, having been keeping himself busy with sharpening it in a sort of meditation style, it helped him calm down.

"I don't know what colors I'd have, not sure what most of them mean, not sure if they have one for how I work." He'd stare at the dagger before starting to clean the blade from the light dirt from the polishing stone, starting to work it over with a damp cloth before going on a leather strap to remove the burr. "I know they mean freedom to them… Freedom to express themselves without anyone looking down or thinking less of them for it… It's something a lot of people have had to keep hidden in fear of being hurt, by the community, family, work… Airing out what's been kept inside is important, and I hope to get to do that one day once I find out what I am."

Finishing up the knife, he'd slide its sheath on his belt, looking winded as if he had just forgotten to breathe. "I'm just tired of being who people see me as and putting me in a box, or in the case of the parade, pushing me away from the boxes and having no idea about myself."

Actually it's a recurring Véghváry thing™

Rozy has no idea about modern slang and their meaning, will misuse/mix them in the worst ways possible. She's slowly losing a grip on newer/evolving Hungarian ones, you can imagine how she is with English.

Karma is extremely confused about most Pride stuff & doesn't understand what 'straight' means in that context. For her it means a respectable, honest person, she knows the 'norm' as heterosexual.

Cindy has absolutely no grip on what considered normal due to her insane level of power. That creating a dress out of stars is an everyday trick for her instead of a whatthefuck how is that even possible?? thing

Raia has no shortcomings. She did, does and will do her research to keep herself ahead of the game, as she always had done so.

Regarding Pride & sexualities as it reads from the snippet of an ask: Karma is quite clueless about the thing. I mean she is aware of being attracted to the same sex or both is a thing, along with trans people. Asexual, demisexual (which she actually IS in the Hazbin & modern cryptid verse) etc is lost on her along with every one of it having a specific color theme

Basically it goes with Karma picking a color combination that matches with her outfit & somebody with the same identity as the pin goes “Oh so you're aromantic too! Don't worry you're totally valid.” while she's internally like ‘I'm a w hat. ’

“I like this look on ya.” voice thick with satisfaction and heavy with something she couldn't quite describe. Sadism? Desire?

“The currency was mentioned, assassin. Getting a little scattered with all the contracts?” she stabbed oh so melodically and with a hint of cruelty- where does it keep coming from? She was no longer like this, not the way she used to lead dozens, hundreds into the death of their own ego with the right words and actions at the perfect time.

“Ah so we went from Creeps, Criminals to Creatures; congratulations.” ink lips chuckled while she listened; of course she did

Impressive profile so far, proving how the mighty can fall when they meet with someone both skilled and equipped. She wasn't going to deny that. Although Karma didn't feel talkative enough about her work both past and present, how her touch decayed even astral feathers. However the first one mentioned refused to leave her mind.

“Hold the dick measuring contest for a few minutes, I'm curious and want to see something. No, it won't hurt.” Karma refused to elaborate further, their shadows already overlapping. Green vanished from her eyes, leaving behind a gently swirling cloud gray color

Rot. Everywhere. Devoid of life, the ground is also dead, decomposing. Air thick with something ancient and dangerous. The decay feeding a single monolith soaked in old, familiar curse. Bones of the unfortunate thinking about shelter or attempting to end the reign of unseen terror. It was following him now closely, looming over him from behind, hiding in plain slight, staying within reach. A blinding flash but it was only a ruse. Death was here, more suffocating than ever. Too many eyes staring, piercing through soul and hungry, famished. A life saving reflex, each holy bullet finding a damned soul in the cluster of them. Mock retreat. Blessed energy fighting with all consuming decay but slowly overcame, snuffed out. A watch, a medallion gone from the cursed ground, picked up by gloved hands. Nothing changed in the atmosphere nor about the remains of once was a forest. A spin back to the heart of the abyss; all is connected. Eyes and a grin. Aged, ragged brown hair with bone white strands. Eyes staring right at her-

“What the fuck was that” her voice more winded than planned; why did she ask when she knew and felt. Karma being thrown out of a memory has never happened before, nor did it ever show something the other didn't see. And it would've been impossible for him to not notice. Leaving the only possibility that it knew Karma was watching.

“Our shadows overlap. When that happens I can look into memories; only see what you saw, don't feel what you did, don't know what you thought. Just look.” she explained that part hurriedly and not giving a fuck about how intrusive it was to do so without asking

“The dead forest. That's not over.” was she horrified because she recognized her powers or rather, what would happen if she let it run rampant and free as it wanted to since her death? Yet he was immune.

“The watch. You still have it. That's why my passive powers don't hurt you. You carry death in your fucking pocket you fool.”

One mystery solved in a way that raised thousand more questions and just as many concerns.

“Where is that place. I was thrown out of the past when that thing looked at me. At the end when you turned back to the building. I need- I have to go there.”

An airy laugh carried by breeze, or rather by shadow.

“No no Cowboy, I'm talking about criminals.” she whispered into his right ear, the smirk evident in her voice before her body turned into seafoam mist and whirled to his left side

“You're talking about creeps, some asshole who flashed the florist lady, an unlucky bastard caught in the wrong woman, some son of a bitch trying something with the wrong daughter.”

“The real deal, now those end up pissing themselves in the final moments instead of an getting erect. At least when I deal with the problem.”

how do you need to be loved?

like the snow melts

you need to be loved patiently. you need to feel the love slowly creeping in, a warning, a way to back away if you’re too scared. you need to be loved cautiously, as if you’re fragile. you need to be loved gently, because love is messy and muddy and makes your socks wet and hurts if the sun gets too close. but you need to let yourself be loved, because when you do, it’ll feel like spring.

𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕒's soundtrack.

Starting off bold, catchy, belonging to someone truly headturning when she walks into the room or rides through town. Then after the first minute the music opens a glimpse behind the adrenaline fueled mask, the first crack. Sharply dropping, mellowing out to a sensitive and soft sensual tone before turning seductive, burningly so, than back to the gentle lull. This time it sounds more...lonely, detached from everything, vulnerable. Aching, as if an outsider was watching the lively saloon from the pouring rain and deciding to ride past. The guitar accenting her never ending drifter lifestyle and exactly how hollow she feels along with adding a touch of danger. And the touch of something not quite right, high, sharp, a little unnerving & full of mystique right before the sorrowful longing. Lingering loss of a wounded soul.

....wishlist kinda?

Actually I would like to write plots when Karma is hired as an assassin after she's fully back in the headhunter business thanks to Striker ( @strikers-saloon ) mansplaining rifles to her. (Obviously there's more to it, but that was among the main things🤣)

Her fame again growing larger than one state, ring in this case; her speed paired with flawless accuracy, her mysterious powers, her horse etc

If you think you could beat this woman in a quickdraw & accuracy in any of her verses;

I have news for you.

The entity grinned, inky abyss where her lips should've been at the reveal in return, not sheathing her guns just yet.

“Excess sin leads to an unnatural spike of deaths. You can imagine how the world wars felt like. I feel it. Every demonic, divine interference, presence and the ones existing in between.”

“Bad experiences with that opening.” she refused to elaborate further, since that incident she started with guns ready and a simple get the fuck out before shooting if the entity didn't comply.

“You leave somewhere else. When you ruined that place too, travel again. I'm not policing where. But if I sense you near Vegas ever again I will kill you without hesitation. Same goes if you touch my horse. That's my word and deal which I will honor.”

His agreement was slightly surprising, it was an extremely small percentage of her encounters where a negotiation could be reached. Keeper of Balance...no, not quite. And the shadows told her Balance exists in form of a cosmic phoenix. She was Death, so it seemed. And for certainly she will be looking into the history of the town to find out exactly who could get this answer out of her.

“In old times, they called me Karma.”

Sin City

Every now and then, Astaroth liked to don a human disguise and take a vacation to the surface. During these vacations, he would travel the world, checking in on the various cults that worshipped him, before settling in one spot for a few days and simply enjoying himself. He never stayed up for too long, lest anyone on Earth or up in Heaven figure out who he was.

A popular spot for him was Las Vegas, the city that gave him the idea to open a casino himself. He loved this city, so full of sin and vice, a true demon's paradise. So many casinos to see, so many other attractions, he never felt like he gave himself enough time for anything.

Today he was at the Mob Museum, somewhere he'd been meaning to visit for many years now. More than a few crime lords whose reach extended to Las Vegas had their blessing from Astaroth; his ability to lead men to treasure was a powerful one, and so often led people here. The blue-haired disguised human was grinning as he browsed the Wall of Mobsters, recognizing plenty of the photographs on the wall, some from reputation, some from meeting them personally.

@deathshadowed

FOUND IT.

I don't remember where, but I've written that ‘Spiderverse Karma is who canon Striker desperately wants to be, but fails miserably.’

And it's probably the sickest burn I've ever came up with.

Silent as marble, she had to get used to such title herself.

“I didn't say where to go, only to away. And the why is because I feel imbalance. Too much evil influence outweighing good. Life cannot flourish.” curt explanation soon followed by ire laced words “I'm a drifter. Go wherever I'm called or feel like. Don't think yourself so highly. You aren't special when it comes to personal visits. Mortals, divine and demonic; all the same at the end. And don't even bring God into this. Give even less shit about him and ‘his ways’ than I do about you.” the spark of the old fire long thought dead flared viciously in acid green glare

Karma didn't dignify that with an another reply. Unnatural darkness rolled into the room like a tidal wave, the ivory haired woman dissolving into black mist with green tints. Faster than any eye could follow, the shade whirled into the center of the room accompanied by the ever growing undechiperable whispers of the abyss. Lights suffocated, glass shattered, portraits dissolved, rot eating away the rich burgundy tapestry.

The shadows formed her body again, this time with revolvers already in hand, crosshair scar glowing seafoam green.

“I don't like repeating myself.”

Sin City

Every now and then, Astaroth liked to don a human disguise and take a vacation to the surface. During these vacations, he would travel the world, checking in on the various cults that worshipped him, before settling in one spot for a few days and simply enjoying himself. He never stayed up for too long, lest anyone on Earth or up in Heaven figure out who he was.

A popular spot for him was Las Vegas, the city that gave him the idea to open a casino himself. He loved this city, so full of sin and vice, a true demon's paradise. So many casinos to see, so many other attractions, he never felt like he gave himself enough time for anything.

Today he was at the Mob Museum, somewhere he'd been meaning to visit for many years now. More than a few crime lords whose reach extended to Las Vegas had their blessing from Astaroth; his ability to lead men to treasure was a powerful one, and so often led people here. The blue-haired disguised human was grinning as he browsed the Wall of Mobsters, recognizing plenty of the photographs on the wall, some from reputation, some from meeting them personally.

@deathshadowed

“Humans can be more than vile without any intervention.” when did she start speaking like she isn't one of them anymore?

Inky lips curled into a sneer at the so blatant display of control over the mind; subtlety was certainly lost on this one. Soon the corner of her mouth quirked up at the now visible crack of the mask, the gunslinger unmoving from her previous stand. Her trustworthy Colts by her sides a comforting weight as always.

“Death.”

Her expression briefly contorting into confusion after the immediate, confident reply...she never could quite name exactly what was she. Or maybe she never wanted to dig deeper in fear of what she might find. This felt frighteningly fitting.

“Therefore I don't give a fuck where you crawled out of. You've done more enough here. Leave to ruin an another place; your time here is up.” Karma always warned once, only fair this way.

His shadow was overlapping hers, better said the ever growing shadows accompanying her. She easily could've read the past from it, yet her gut advised against it. Especially after spelling ‘get the fuck out’ to the demon who apparently had himself on a high pedestal of vile glory.

Sin City

Every now and then, Astaroth liked to don a human disguise and take a vacation to the surface. During these vacations, he would travel the world, checking in on the various cults that worshipped him, before settling in one spot for a few days and simply enjoying himself. He never stayed up for too long, lest anyone on Earth or up in Heaven figure out who he was.

A popular spot for him was Las Vegas, the city that gave him the idea to open a casino himself. He loved this city, so full of sin and vice, a true demon's paradise. So many casinos to see, so many other attractions, he never felt like he gave himself enough time for anything.

Today he was at the Mob Museum, somewhere he'd been meaning to visit for many years now. More than a few crime lords whose reach extended to Las Vegas had their blessing from Astaroth; his ability to lead men to treasure was a powerful one, and so often led people here. The blue-haired disguised human was grinning as he browsed the Wall of Mobsters, recognizing plenty of the photographs on the wall, some from reputation, some from meeting them personally.

@deathshadowed

A city was built in the sunkissed desert. Karma, seemingly eternally frozen in time only watched from her ebony mare as it grew, more vibrant, loud, populated, suffocating in crime. Witnessing its advancing was among her most surreal experiences. Her own realm, the unforgiving heated sandy wastelands were getting smaller, the city's thrum reaching far. With the ever growing crime rate more hastily or not even buried dead littered the outskirts.

Karma setting a foot in this town was a rarity, especially this deep but the shadows kept whispering, urging her to come. She had left Villám long before entering, thankfully the intelligent horse understood well why she had to stay behind.

The gunfighter's clothing barely changed throughout centuries, only she allowed more prominent metal chain fringes on her jacket, the decorations chiming with a soft finality with each move. The shadows led her to a museum, by then she also could feel it. Not sparing much attention to the displays nor the people; few, probably around closing time, that was good. She didn't know yet what would happen.

The aura was akin to a harsh push when she sensed it full force. Close, not too much but already enough for her eyes to morph even more. Her stainless steel heels a steady thunder of something unavoidable approaching.

Burgundy was a stark contrast against her bone white hair and skin, the chain fringes giving one final clink as she stopped at the entrance.

“This shithole is your doing.”

A statement bold and sure, the modern disguise of the demon incapable of fooling her senses. Poison eyes flicked to the criminal decorated wall.

“Along with other deeds indirectly leading to deaths of the undeserving.”

Sin City

Every now and then, Astaroth liked to don a human disguise and take a vacation to the surface. During these vacations, he would travel the world, checking in on the various cults that worshipped him, before settling in one spot for a few days and simply enjoying himself. He never stayed up for too long, lest anyone on Earth or up in Heaven figure out who he was.

A popular spot for him was Las Vegas, the city that gave him the idea to open a casino himself. He loved this city, so full of sin and vice, a true demon's paradise. So many casinos to see, so many other attractions, he never felt like he gave himself enough time for anything.

Today he was at the Mob Museum, somewhere he'd been meaning to visit for many years now. More than a few crime lords whose reach extended to Las Vegas had their blessing from Astaroth; his ability to lead men to treasure was a powerful one, and so often led people here. The blue-haired disguised human was grinning as he browsed the Wall of Mobsters, recognizing plenty of the photographs on the wall, some from reputation, some from meeting them personally.

@deathshadowed

Do you guys know that one scene

Seriously?!?

I don't remember where, but I've written that ‘Spiderverse Karma is who canon Striker desperately wants to be, but fails miserably.’

And it's probably the sickest burn I've ever came up with.