All It Took Was Striker (@strikers-saloon ) Mansplaining Rifles For Karma To Already Have Second Thoughts

All it took was Striker (@strikers-saloon ) mansplaining rifles for Karma to already have second thoughts about quitting murdering people for money.

Ａｓ Ａｂｏｖｅ， Ｓｏ Ｂｅｌｏｗ

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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

@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.

              speak not my child - ɪ'ʟʟ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʀɪᴇs

@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.

Which unpopular archetype are you?

the dark horse

who would’ve guessed it’d be you? after all this time, it’s really you? when you were little, nobody knew your name. for so long, you’ve lived as a shade amongst shades. written off, cast aside, overlooked. you did your best work in the shadows. it took you so long to bloom, some thought you would never emerge at all. but now’s your time in the spotlight. all the heroes have failed, but you’re still standing. in the darkest hour, you came in to save the day. you’re our last hope, dark horse!

personality: clever, determined, quiet counterpart: the killer

(Thoughts: way too accurate, I only object the quiet, as when alive, she definitely wasn't. That aside, it perfectly describes her backstory, she would've lived a relatively normal life if her parents weren't killed when she was 10. Sparks of vengeance ignited and slowly transformed her into a killer, a bounty hunter and she only made her grand entrance when she was 110% sure about her skills and unwavering aim. She was written off as the sad little orphan while she was cutting open corpses to examine the damage dealt by bullets, customized her pistols from the best revolvers available and showed up like a lightning strike. And being the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, after conquest, war and famine ravaged the people, she in a twisted way is really the last hope to end the misery.)