[h1]Conrad ‘Six Shot’ Ortega[/h1]

[i]Great. A comedian.[/i] His glance over his shoulder was flat of expression, hinting towards chagrined. Of all the time for jokes, she chose now to toss them out? Conrad grimaced and finally managed to level another shot- this time taking the demon in the throat with the powerful round. It wasn’t quite dead, but from the way it jerked back and disappeared from view, and the gurgle- it wasn’t quite alive either. He spared a glance backwards to see the woman, prosthetics and all. She was clad just as skimpily as the other eccentric female hunters- with little regards to protection. It might be more comfortable though, for all he knew. How a one-legged hunter who was half blind made any money though was beyond him. Even with skill, it would be hard to convince contractors of the investment. He kicked aside some pieces of chair and put a boot against the impaled demon, yanking his pipe out of it’s chest. On his way over to her the hunter reloaded quickly, tucking the empty casings into his pocket. It never hurt to keep the firearm topped off, especially when one only had six shots. As for her, it didn’t look like she had to worry about ammo at all, with those weapons.
“If you got a problem with euphemisms [i]Ms. Schene[/i], then let it be as it is.” A slight smile tugged the side of his mouth. “’Asshole’ will do fine.” 
The sound of boots echoed on the stairs, and the familiar blast of .44 revolvers barked again, ripping apart a section of wall and the demon behind. This new man was covered, though dressed similarly in style to Conrad himself. Which wasn’t all that strange- except for the eyes. He spoke sense anyway. Conrad wasn’t here to fight though. His job was a mundane one- get some rubbings and get out. His firearms didn’t make him immortal, just damn good at keeping himself alive. The key there being himself. One. Uno. Eines.
[b]”You will die if you charge.”[/b]

The voice spoke as more of a command than a statement of fact, though either might have been taken for offense. Conrad turned his head slightly and spotted her. Astride a horse, but that wasn’t the intimidating factor. Her clothing was designed to intimidate. Hooded, and wielding two crossbows. Conrad could almost sense the hate pooling off of her when she looked at him. For what reason, he had no idea. He hadn’t been advertising who he was at all. Then came the shot. It made his eyes light up. Inscribed crossbows- what he would give to examine those enchantments. It would make an interesting addition to his arsenal. Though the look she had given him was more than enough warning to throw that idea away. He met the gaze without turning, before dropping it and looking ahead again.
“I didn’t come here to fight demons.” He spat on the ground beside them. “I didn’t come here to save anyone either. I’ll help with the big one, but you’re on your own with the packs.” Conrad holstered his firearm and sword, one hand tapping his inscribed one. He had already used up one shot, that only left five to lean on. Powerful, but limited all the same. “We will need a plan, but I am not exactly a team player-“ The man shot a hopefully-quelling look at Bryn- she would have comment to that. “-so I am not the best at making it. Let’s hear what you have to offer.”

They had two heavy gunners, a inscripted crossbow user, and the other woman had some decent repeaters. Not bad for a loadout, but not enough for swarms either.