Rules & About

Rules & About

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𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 ➡ @venomtorn

+𝟏𝟖 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐎𝐂 & 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬

𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣

𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕤

💀 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

⚡𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐮𝐧 & 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 +𝟐𝟏

💀 +𝟖 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

⚡𝕍é𝕘𝕙𝕧á𝕣𝕪 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖

💀 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐞́𝐠𝐡𝐯𝐚́𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬, 𝟏𝟐 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬: 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓫𝔂 𝓙𝓪𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

deathshadowed​:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@strikers-saloon

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

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

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

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

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

The Evermore-Grimoire: Elemental Powers

Umbrakinesis is the power to create, shape and manipulate darkness as well shadows. By itself, darkness it’s mostly used to cloud everything into total darkness, but by accessing a dimension of dark energy it can be channeled to a variety of effects, both as an absence of light or as solid substance such as being able to project beams/ rays of darkness. Those who wield this power can also control and manipulate beings that dwell in the shadows, can create and dispel shields of darkness, as well as create constructs, weapons and even teleport long distances through shadows.

As a result of being almost constantly exposed to gunfire, Karma suffers from hyperacusis which is a reduced tolerance for sounds. She has difficulty holding conversations, staying in loud places for too long because every sound merges into one distorted noise, causing her headache and messing up her otherwise sharp senses. On top of that, her hearing has always been great as she was/is a bounty hunter and wasn't looking for finding herself on the wrong end of a barrel.

She almost always speaks softly, calm; cold even when angry. Rarely raises her voice, let alone shouts; mostly hisses loudly in irritation if her horse isn't near. When she does shout/yell, it is probably due to being overwhelmed by noise she can't stand anymore. Or someone managed to piss her off to a level of no coming back

It's high noon time motherfuckers

Theme will be finished tomorrow, promo post waiting in drafts. Karma officially has her own blog.