[IC] Devil's Storm

[Shotgun Bear]

@The Wanderer

Bryn padded at her eyepatch in mock horror, wrapping both hands around it and snapping it for effect.

"Oh god, I'm blind! And--holy shit, I've lost a leg!" She bellowed, words dripping with sarcasm. Rolling forward from her terribly uncomfortable seat on one of the shelves behind the bar, Bryn bounded over the counter and out towards the off-tempo series of gunshots. She took a moment to look at her handiwork--a litter of demons, all riddled with bullet holes, save the fresh one that'd seated its head in one of the chairs. A whistle and a tap offered Conrad a playful 'zap' on the thigh, Skelter rolling between Bryn's dexterous fingers.

"Nah, I'm just fucking with you. These're old. Obviously. What corny comic shat you out, anyway? You look like you died-but-got-better and now you're out for revenge." Bryn cackled at her own impression of an 'extreme' announcer, a talent she'd appropriated from listening to too many radio soaps. She took the time to study the cowboy-looking character, trying to get a read on him.

Two holsters, far's she could tell. Big guns, from the sound they'd made, but certainly nothing like that could've made a pit in a demon and-or saloon wall like that. Something on him was inscribed. Was it one of the guns? She'd have to wait for the reload. Big black stick. Big, pointy, metal black stick. This guy was a walking armory. He even had a belt full of bullets, just... Sitting there. His guns were high caliber--those bullets were thick. Had to be .44. Bullets were never cheap.

Disposable income, for sure. Whoever the Lone Ranger here was, he had pocket change or a leatherworker in his pocket. His cape... Thing, Bryn didn't know the proper term--it had some nice yellow embroidering. Unless this was his only change of clothes, this guy had some jingle and more than enough of it to go around, seeing how much he was willing to spend on his outings. Looked somewhere between young and old--thirties, certainly. He'd been doing this for a while, it appeared. If he wasn't rich, he was certainly a looter. Too many bullets on hand and too many nice things.

Of course, Bryn's definition of rich wasn't the most accurate: considering she'd been sleeping on hay and a sheet for the past week and paying for the pleasure, not having to piss in public was the epitome of fortune.

Two shots. Quick, classy chkk-brap-brrap. Safety was off and the awning had two new holes in it. Bryn was much for conversation, but from the looks of this guy, he wasn't. Looked moody. Type to talk with his guns. Pulling the demons rather than letting them wander towards them left little room for surprises on their end--they were still on the outskirts, and the saloon was wall-to-wall with two other buildings. No back attacks. Any demons that cared to jump down her ass would have by now--and by Bryn's summation, the pack of five were probably lollygagging in the other two shops before they grouped up.

"Hey, Leather'R'Us. Back to mine, got it? You know how this goes. Shit goes south, we bail different directions, stretch the demons thin and ease back into the fray. You've done this before, so I'm not going to give you the whole spiel on 'don't look at your gun looking at the landscape look at the landscape' n' so on. Brynnet Schene, by the way. You're going to call me Bryn." She tapped her back, offering it to her new cohort. The tie she'd made for her leg was already getting soaked.

"Watch the gimp leg. I got gored by a railing. Spook threw it. I'm good to move. Not like there's any muscle beneath the knee." Bryn explained with trained brevity--her sentences were almost rhythmic, short and sweet. A cigarette rasp filled the gap between the last two statements, reminding Bryn that she needed to quit--just as soon as she had enough money to buy another pack. Come down easy. Very, very easy.

"You got a name there, Skippy? Because I can't keep calling you various euphemisms for 'Some leather-clad asshole with two legs and a dumb hat.'"

[GhostReaper]

The drifter heard the commotion happening outside the building he was residing in. The sounds of gunfire going off, some being silenced by scream, others fleeing. Hunters, they aren't used to the demons being organized. Forgetting to check for ambushes and that they will be hiding, and do something other then lunge at you. He took a deep breath as he stood up from his seat walking out the door of the room he was staying in. Looking down the woman was stil inside the bar jumping over the bar counter starting to talk with another. Though she seemed to like talking. Walking down the stairs his boots were heavy on the wooden steps echoing out some as he looked over. His face was hidden by the shadow created by his hat, and the bandana covering his face. He looked up, sensing the demons moving. They were positioning them selves better before striking.

His eyes let off that soft yellow glow as he pulled into his demonic power. Pulling out his guns he made it to the bottom of the steps. Walking foward towards the girl he raised his weapons before spreading his arms, pulling the trigger. Those .44 revolvers fired, when they did the air around them cackled with energy as they hit the wall behind the bar, though it was like a cannon blast. A large hole formed as the wood ripped away by the force and a loud shriek of a demon cried out. Firing his other gun the bullet flew out punching another hole and another shriek and another dead demon. Looking up he let them run off for now. "Don't ever let your guard down" he said as he looked at the girl, his voice was deepened and rough but still sounded human.

"They have an alpha, a Juggernaut. They are organized, will plan their attacks. Not just charge until they are all dead or you are. The two on the roof re-treated to regroup. As he spoke his eyes died down. Looking to the other he started to walk outside of the bar "There are none near us right now, but they will be back with greater number. Until the alpha is delt with, they will be much more difficult to deal with". Done speaking he looked to the pair, for now he could use the assistance, the only problem was the fight with that Juggernaut. But that was something he would have to come to later. "So, do we wait here or go to them?

[Tuujaimaa]

"You will die if you charge."

When Glyph spoke, most people deigned to listen - her voice was a mixture of gravel and authority, months upon months of not having been used increasing her baritone to levels that most would likely only hear after the most severe hangovers (she saw Bryn and immediately thought that it might have been something she'd experienced), and when a woman on an imposing horse with two crossbows looked down at you and spoke, it was probably for the best to heed her words wisely. Most Hunters had learned that the hard way, choosing to take their limited victories in small skirmishes as genuine experience, and the heady mixture of pride and naivete was something they were often unable to overcome before it was far too late.

She surveyed the unlikely trio with a harsh eye, focusing on each of them in turn, before focusing on Conrad. Her eyes narrowed, to barely visible slits, and the vitriol in the air was almost palpable for a second before she looked onwards, as if he weren't there, staring directly through him. She pointed her crossbow at the tower and gave Cipher a little nudge with her right foot. He stepped forward one pace, Glyph pivoted her upper body around, and brought her crossbow to what remained of the wreckage of the roof. There was normally a satisfying 'click' with gunshots, a bang to let you know that the bullet had been fired and that death was imminent. All Glyph's weapons gave off when the bolt of energy was fired was a brief flash of light, and most often that was followed by an inhuman screech.

The one remaining demon in the building fell to the floor, a hole through its head, and Glyph moved forwards again, strutting past the three Hunters as she sought to leave the building. She was keenly aware of all of their positions, years of experience manifesting as a 'sixth sense', almost, as she left the building. She was sure some of them would have something to say, or something to do, but she was here to teach them one quintessential fact about the hunt: Actions spoke louder than words, and if all they had was talk, the demons would eat them alive. What Bryn had done was brave, yes, but it was also foolish. Those wounds made her slower, and though there were other hunters around, that slowness would one day get her killed. She was not without redeeming qualities - talent could be seen at a glance - but the Hunt was a crucible in which its participants were tempered or reduced to ash. It would be a shame to see a promising newblood fall so early.

The man that she had glared at was familiar. Not because of his face, or his sword, or his deeds - but there was an energy that surrounded him that she knew marked him as being a loose strand in the tapestry of her past: It was the same energy that her own weapons and stilettos produced. Those who were trained in the art of inscribing crystals were very far and very few between - and with her father's disgrace she had imagined that she was the last one participating in the Hunt. To feel that same energy in another person was a little shocking, but it made her more angry than curious - the legacy of the Laurent name was supposed to die with her when she left the capital all those years ago. If it had found a way to continue, investigating it would be her first port of call after this hunt.

[The Wanderer]

Conrad ‘Six Shot’ Ortega

Great. A comedian. 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 Ms. Schene, 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.
”You will die if you charge.”

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.

[Mike73]

Reid never got to hear Red's response. Several groups of demons had descended upon them all, so whatever plan they had now wasn't going to be all that useful. Oh well. Reid figured that at least they were on an even playing field here out in the open. Sure there were buildings nearby, and yes, having some cover would be nice, but being able to see where all your enemies were was still somewhat comforting. And hey, more open space meant more movement. That was perfect for Reid's style of combat.

"Hey Red, let me deal with these, you take care of any that manage to get past me or try to get the jump on me!" Reid called out to her, stepping forward as they did so to face one of demon groups. There were three groups total, with a few stragglers as well. The other hunters were taking care of two of the groups, so Reid decided to take on the last group of five. To be honest, they usually didn't try to take on so many demons in a full on fight, but they felt confident enough that everything would be just fine, thanks to Red providing back up.

Unholstering their two revolvers, Reid took aim at the quickly incoming group, and began firing. Due to the demons being clustered together, they all managed to take quite a few hits, though some shots still managed to miss (hey, dual-wielding revolvers wasn't exactly the most accurate set up), and none of them were killed and at most were just slowed down. One demon who had been least injured took the lead, and jumped up into the air to dive at Reid, claws flared and ready to tear them apart. Reid responded quickly by using a Wind Boost to quickly blow themselves backward and away from the attacker. The demon simply fell onto the ground and stumbled a bit, having missed its mark entirely, to which Reid took advantage of by planting two shots into its skull. Alright, only four left.

Reid didn't stop to celebrate, and immediately began to run and try to strafe around the remaining demons and began firing at them once more. There was once again a comfortable distance between the eccentric hunter and the demons due to the earlier Wind Boost, and the gap between them didn't close as fast this time due to the group being injured and slowed down. Besides, these were Ravagers, they were basically the grunts of the demon species. Though obviously still more powerful than a human, they were still all too susceptible to heavy gunfire. One demon lost use of an arm, another their leg, having taken too many bullets to their limbs by this point to have any strength left in them. One demon eventually took a bullet to the head, finally killing it off. Nice, three left to go.

"Red, think you can finish them off?" Reid shouted back to their team mate. There wasn't a reply. "Red?" Reid risked a quick peek behind over their shoulder to see what was holding the woman up, but saw nobody there.

"Son a bitch tit!" Reid swore loudly. She fucking abandoned them! What the hell!? Where did she even go? God damn it! And now the demons were closing in way too fast, despite their injuries the group was just too desperate for a meal to pass up attacking Reid to instead nurse their wounds. What's worse, is that the hunter couldn't use their Wind Boost spell yet to dodge the group either, as it needed a little more time before it could be used again. Thinking fast, Reid let their right revolver hang at their side, aimed their Grappling Hook at a nearby building, and fired. The hook latched onto the roof, and its owner began to zip away towards it. However, a demon jumped at and grabbed onto Reid's leg at the last second, sinking its claws into their leg. They let out a yell and tried to shake the demon off, but to no avail.

A second or so later, they were flying onto the building's roof. The crashing fall managed to force the demon to let go, but it also caused Reid to get the wind knocked out of them. How ironic. Wheezing a bit, they raised their left revolver just as the demon tried to lunge at them again, and fired a single shot into its head. The demon crashed into them, making them fall on their back, but the demon was pretty much incapacitated now. With a grunt, they shoved the demon's twitching body off of them, and shot it in the head once more, confirming the kill. Great, just two left now.

"Damn," Reid sighed, "That was way too close." They took the brief moment of peace as an opportunity to check on their leg. Fortunately, the demon had mostly only managed to tear into the legging and padding around their calf, with only a slight bloody gash on the underside of it. Though they were going to have to bandage that up soon, it was still extremely lucky, Reid could have easily lost a leg there. The under armor and padding they wore was really paying off. It made them look...thicker, than they really were, but the extra protection was worth it.

Enough of that though, the scratching noises Reid was starting to hear indicated that the last two demons were trying to climb up the side of the building. Limping slightly, Reid holstered their left revolver and brought out a simple pistol as they walked over to the roof's edge. All that was needed was a few good accurate shots, power didn't really matter at this point. Looking over the edge, they could see the two demons struggling to climb up the wall. Reid fired at the one on the left, the first shot narrowly missing its hand, the second piercing its shoulder, and the third finally striking its head, causing the demon to fall off the building. The last demon was near the top, but Reid just fired two shots, one hitting its chest and the other in the head, finally killing it off as it fell as well.

"Whew..." Reid let out a sigh of relief as they stepped back and sat down, "That sucked really bad. I need to find more reliable team mates. Preferably someone who doesn't leave me to die." Speaking of which, now was probably better than any other time to start bandaging up their wound, so they got right to it. In the distance, they could see that a group of hunters were beginning to team up. Reid wondered if they should go up to the group, and decided to just watch them for now to see what they were up to.