. . Soulsnatcher.

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

....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

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. ’

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

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

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.