666

✞ 666 ✞

Karma is both talented, practiced a lot but also anatomically gifted. Her fingers are long, dexterous and thin with wiry strength. She has her own warmup routine every morning, one of the first things after waking up to ensure her hands function perfectly. She has designed her revolvers herself -not that she's not able to shoot with other firearms, only the most confident using her twin revolvers Salvation & Damnation-, the barrel is longer than most for a more precise aim and carrying further. She actually took the trigger guards off to maximize her already impossible speed. Doesn't wear gloves, rings or anything that could possibly get into the way. Personalized revolvers, talent and a little anatomy to achieve this:

Ruining every barrier until she gets to Wrath was both tiring and boring at the same time. What she haven't tried yet was the elevator, a bit too public for her liking along with her power being contained in a relatively small space. Still, Karma wanted to see her horse Villám as soon as possible, the shortcut should be worth it.

Death lurked here. The ghastly feeling breezed through her senses, her hands automatically flying to her revolvers. Someone exited close to her, and the doors closed the dimly lit crosshair scar following it visible in the tiny crack before it sealed. The volume and amount of light was searing in such small place, then the screaming. The coughing and suffocating. Like her parents' final moments. Trapped between dying demons, one of them was large enough to unintentionally almost fully shield her from the explosion of holy water.

The same holy water bombs she so far managed to avoid, but these came with a dreadful upgrade. Pain of the burn of her left leg barely registered when she had heard the dreadful creaking of metal signaling that toxins and holy water weren't the 'only' threat.

The gunslinger morphed into a swirling mass of shadows, using others' to travel with extreme speed and slither out of the damaged entrance. Karma materialized outside the ruins, a towering shadowy creature well over ten feet with viciously glowing crosshair and soulless silver eyes.

“ I̵̛̼ ̶̨͂̆A̵̧̳̫̔̍M̷̠̹̋̌̚ ̵̬͓͓̈́̅S̵͔͍̞͌̋̒T̸̙̹̈́́̚ͅI̸̬̮̙̽͛͂L̴̢̢̉͂̈L̷̨͙̘̒ ̶̜̆͋̓Ḁ̸̳̔̏͝Ḷ̷̊I̴͉̹͆̓͜V̵̳͆͗̒E̸̺̅͊ͅ ” the survivor howled into the echo of the destruction as a challenge to the coward who played with lives, families as they pleased

What character archetype are you?

The Innocent

You are...the victim of this tale. Did the villain use you? Did the hero fail to protect you? Were you dead before the story even began? How many scares do you have waiting for someone, anyone to come save you? All that is known is that you didn't deserve what happened to you, the heros will remember you and ensure it never happens to anyone else. Will you stay innocent waiting for your happy ending, will you become the villain realizing you'll never be saved, or is death the only thing that awaits you?

Heaven, Iowa

x

@spxcemuses You probably had seen this coming. Have a sinday special brawl between Striker & Karma because it was sort of inevitable-

It all started with a sneaky jab to her pride that she only could handle her guns and that's all for her combat skills. Throwing a punch at the smug demonic cowboy was almost like a reflex, and it all went downhill from that. She had calculated right, that tail alone was dangerous as fuck, putting her in severe disadvantage from the start but that definitely didn't mean her backing down.

Karma trashed like rabid cat as the force of his grip on her neck increased; the realization set in that instead of wanting to crush her windpipe, he went for cutting off the blood flow. The fact that he wasn't fully set on killing her offered a little relief. Her vision was blurring yet she felt more alive than ever, as if sparks of lighting zapped through her body, the thrill was similar when she had ridden Vihar to her full speed. Blazing emerald burned into glowing yellow, her lips pulled back a feral grin as her hands slowly pried away his, tiny distance but enough for a sharp intake of air for her burning lungs.

Her legs swiftly wrapped around Striker's waist, thighs tight with muscle from riding formed a crushing hold, enough to flip the position while still trying to keep his claws away from her throat; the ghost touch of his claws sending violent shivers down her spine.

"Even though you're a demon crawled out of Hell and I'm just a human; if you think this will be easy " her thighs' grasp clenched even further "you picked the wrong fucking target."

The faint rattle behind her was the signal Karma overstayed her welcome and she bolted towards the door before it could grab her- only she didn't make it. She inwardly cursed its length and the efficiency the demon learned to utilize it during combat. The new chokehold with his arm around her neck was familiar, making her snarl in displeasure, one hand yanking at his bandana to bring him closer to her lips.

"If you ever consider going easy on me, I will shoot you in your sleep."

Karma would not allow that disrespect, even if definitely meant her losing their...bloody game, she will go down with the knowledge and pride of how much the snakelike cowboy had to bother with her. She tried the best angle to slam her head backwards, her steel heeled boot sharply digging into his foot in hope of the pain of a possibility broken nose and the smarting leg will allow her to slip out of the loosened hold.

When her calculations were proven right, she made a mad dash to the door, throwing herself down the stairs, rolling on the ball of her shoulder to prevent a too serious injury -she was sure she bruised her ribs though-, arriving at the landing, slamming against the railing with a small groan. Despite the pain, Karma was having the time of her life, she was alive in every possible meaning. While her impossible shots brought her their fair amount of thrill, this kind of close combat was entirely new. The thunder of adrenaline numbed her aches to an almost pleasant buzz; the sensation thrilling on its own. Her eyes seared with twisted excitement, the dangerous shine seemingly bringing out the target cross scar even more, her mouth frozen into a feral grin with a small stream of blood dribbling down her chin.

"S-sir leave the lady alone...!" A young and surprisingly brave man from the saloon spoke up after witnessing their violent game, his gun shakily pointed at Striker- only to have it shot out of his hand in the next second.

"I appreciate the gesture, but let me have my fun, boy." Karma chuckled darkly, her eyes immediately back on the snakelike imp

"Aren't you missing something?" She asked Striker with a mock innocent whistle as she twirled his red bladed dagger she snatched during one of their clashes between her fingers.

After the little show, her hand tightened around it in an icepick grip, her toothy grin stretching across her face once again, faint stream of blood running from her lips, the competitive gleam in her eyes borderline insanity as the danger heightened.

"Then come and get it."