𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖.

Independent. Private. Selective. Highly canon divergent Boothill. As remembered by: SEONHWA EST: 17 May 2025

[dreadranger]

『 DREADRANGER 』 𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇. An independent & private & highly selective & heavily headcanon based & highly canon divergent BOOTHILL formerly known as 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐋 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 defying the confines of the crypt of the cosmos within HONKAI STAR RAIL. Intermediate activity. Unlikely to follow first.

—a remembrance recounted by SeonHwa (25+)

blogroll: @dreadbornesaint (oc - main blog), @dreadseareverie (oc multi - low activity)

please read the rules before interacting.

personals please do not interact with my posts (personals with RP side blogs are exempt).

triggering contents may include:  violence, gore, torture, blood, horror, body horror, psychological horror, religious themes & imagery, alcohol consumption, self-destruction & self-destructive tendencies, dehumanization, suicidal ideation, sexual themes, & more.

Tales told ‘round the campfires of the dusty trails: the vulture upon the half rotted corpse of the coyote, the decaying flesh immortalized in cages of steel, fangs bared and flesh torn asunder, the beloved bones, that which devours decay, dead gods within machines, crossroads and the crux paradoxical paths, the hunter and the hunted, and the deathlessness of enduring love.

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐢. rules 𝐢𝐢. about 𝐢𝐢𝐢. about my portrayal 𝐢𝐯. verses 𝐯. memes 𝐯𝐢. opens

𝐄𝐒𝐓: 17 May 2025

[dreadranger]

On Virgil’s Lifespan as a Sineater. 

Virgil has always felt that he is not long for the world. Death is something that has always felt near, some danger always lurking at the fringes of his recklessness. He would probably die young, by gunfire, by vice, or some cruel twist of fate's knife. 

But something has changed in him now, something that has irreversibly transformed the path he walks. What was once a somewhat vague sensation now seems less like statistical probability and more akin to certain inevitably. (And perhaps, in some ways, that informs his desperation in seeking out what he's lost.) He did not linger long enough to learn that such a future is less possibility and more premonition. 

He will die, unfortunately, all too soon. And because his body has significantly less organic parts, it is unlikely that he will survive the inevitable dance between death that Sineaters undergo before walking the world again. Virgil only has this one life to live, being a Sineater doesn't change that. But what that does change is the fact that he does not have much of this life left to live. 

[dreadnoughtjelly]

I'm not up to making a fancy promo so hi, hello! This is an independent, highly selective and private OC of original lore. Drowned by SeonHwa (25+). If you're interested in interacting with a weird little hadal jellyfish creatyre thing, please give this post a like or a reblog. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

[dreadranger]

“Damn.” He never considered the possibility that a bullet wouldn’t work. Though, he supposes that if trying to do so would be the equivalent of seeing a ghost to its end again with a gun, then it would not be very effective. If it was something he could physically harm, then that would simplify things. Even the mightiest deity, should it occupy a mortal vessel, would not be too keen on experiencing the agonies of mortality. 

But as it stands, Virgil knows that he does not have enough information to go off of. He should have stayed long enough to figure things out, but there had been more important matters at hand. He doesn’t even know where to begin looking for answers, but he’s gleaned enough, he thinks, to have a starting point. 

“The thing is, I, uh, didn’t stick ‘round long enough to find out.” Affairs on that planet seemed messy enough and with the IPC chasing after him, he didn’t want them to suffer the consequences of his actions. Besides, that one lady–what was her name? A shame he didn’t ask for it–seemed like she had some semblance of control over the situation.  

Virgil has always been the type to act first and ask questions later. It serves him well most of the time, but it seems that this is one such circumstance where it seems to have backfired. Spectacularly, at that. Perhaps he is aware enough to realize that he is in over his head. But that has never stopped him before and with so much on the line, there isn’t a good enough reason to start now. 

“Seems it’s some kind of snake? Or a tree. I’d have t’ find the bastard first.” Everything he’d heard had been stories, rumors, snippets of words repeated for generations. Some scrap of truth lies therein, but how is one to differentiate the weeds from the grass without stepping into the field? If only he hadn’t been in such a hurry back then. If he had been able to learn even some extent of the truth, perhaps he’d already be seeing to the death of the divine.

But as it stands, he reckons the only way he’ll make it out of this long enough to see his vengeance through to the end, is to grant oblivion to that cruel god that exists outside of it. 

“A god, eh?” It’s been said that it takes a monster to kill another monster. Maybe it holds true for the gods as well. Not that a wretch like him would ever know. He’s only ever been a man. And whatever it is he may be now, that still holds true. “Well, if I need a hand evenin’ those odds, I’ll be countin’ on ya, partner.” 

That is, if he sees himself long enough for such a confrontation.

[dreadranger]

i'm going to just put stuff in the queue as i finish them, so if nothing is posting.... it's because i haven't finished stuff yet www

editing this to add that. i'm probably going to simplify my formatting going forward (for now) because i had the energy/time to do it before, but not so much these days... anyway, i should head to bed now, so! have a good one everyone

[dreadranger]

Virgil has a black stallion that he calls Casey. It's short for Bullet Casing.

[dreadranger]

Consider this a brief little PSA as I have updated my rules. The essence remains the same, but I have provided under the cut what I have added and under what sections they fall. I would appreciate it if you could give a quick skim over them, thank you!

FOLLOWING & UNFOLLOWING:

If I interact with someone who has a record of questionable behavior, be it some sort of -ist/-phobic behavior, criminal offenses, or other unsavory business, please bring it up with me privately. Odds are that I am unaware, and once presented with facts, evidence, and any other relevant information, I will make my own judgement call. 

Similarly, I try to heed DNI lists, but understand that I may slip-up, especially if someone is prone to changing aliases/names frequently. I prefer if it is brought to my attention so I may remedy it, however, I also understand that not all will choose to do so. 

I also do not abide by the rhetoric of choosing one person over another outside of serious transgressions. I tag URLs, so please make use of the block feature and blacklists to avoid that which you do not wish to see.

INTERACTIONS:

To elaborate on the point of my shyness, I find it difficult to reach out and initiate interactions first. I will not go into the details as to why that is, but please know that a little encouragement or reassurance can go a long way into easing my anxieties. Otherwise, please understand it may take me longer to initiate. 

[dreadranger]

"What in tarnation?"

[dreadranger]

Virgil’s daughter is 100% the type to grab a horny toad in her hands and go up to him like "look at what I got dad!"

[dreadranger]

i... i'm still around i promise... i'm just selfishly waiting until i have at least one more reply done.... then.... hmghh...

[dreadranger]

Virgil is not particular about the sort of writing instruments he uses; he is a man of practicality above all else. Even so, he does have a preferred writing tool, which would be a fountain pen. There's something a little more tactile to them, in the way they need to be maintained. Even if simplistic, they are mechanical in nature. He enjoys the more hands-on nature of it, from filling the pen to using it to its maintenance.

And perhaps only slightly related, he does flip his pen, especially if he's idle and it happens to be in his hand.

[dreadranger]

i did not mean to be as inactive here as i have been. but. should my health hold in the coming week, i do hope to be able to do more for here. i haven't forgotten about virgil don't you worry

[dreadranger]

"To live is to suffer, and boy, am I living."

[dreadranger]

Virgil has never felt truly human, despite everything. Finding places he belongs and slowly drifting to the fringe because of this deeply set feeling. It was true before he lost everything, but after gaining a body that is but a mechanical imitation of what came before only amplifies these feelings. He’s not really human, but it begs the question somewhere in his mind: was he ever? He doesn’t feel like a human, he’s never truly felt that way. And sometimes, when things get particularly bad? He disconnects.

[dreadranger]

Ah, hello... I know it's been a while, but I am back now. I managed to do a tiny bit of housekeeping for the blog, replies are drafted and being worked on, and I'll get back to the IMs I've yet to respond to in a moment.

[unpr0mpted]

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! a collection of icky, bloody prompts for those who like to choose violence. actions are reversible. general warning for blood, violence, murder, death.

𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

" that's a lot of blood. "

" it isn't mine. "

" what did you do ? "

[ sigh ] " what did you do ? "

" come on. have a taste. "

" holy shit, are you okay ? "

" it looks worse than it feels. "

" you should see the other guy. "

" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "

" lean on me. "

" oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck ? is that what i fucking think it is ? "

" . . . gross. "

[ standing over a body ] " oops. "

" is that a fucking body ? "

" look, i'm sorry, okay ? "

" what the hell happened ? "

" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "

" at least it wasn't me this time. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you wish it wasn't. "

" i'm not scared of you. "

" you don't scare me. "

" shut up and let me help you. "

" i got your shirt all bloody. "

" let's get you cleaned up. "

" that looks like it hurts. "

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "

" we are so fucked. "

" what the fuck is wrong with you ? "

" are you gonna help me clean it up or not ? "

" the fucker deserved it. "

" red looks good on you. "

" what the hell did you do ; tap - dance all over the body with ice - skates ? "

" what, did you run over the body with your car a couple times after ? "

" i. . . i didn't mean to. . . "

" sorry. fuck, i'm sorry. "

" this isn't what it looks like. "

" it was an accident. "

" motherfucker ran right into my knife, i swear. "

" people need to look both ways before crossing. . . bullets. "

" would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? "

" hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? "

" they deserved it, right ? please tell me they deserved it. "

" you're bleeding. "

" what the fuck happened to you ? "

" you're getting blood on the carpet. "

" sit down before you fall down. "

" that looks like a you problem. "

𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

sender spits out a mouthful of blood at receiver's feet

sender spits out a mouthful of blood on receiver

receiver finds sender covered in blood

sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding

sender helps receiver clean up after a kill

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with a washcloth

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with their thumb

sender licks receiver's blood off a knife

sender licks receiver's blood off their thumb

sender lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to receiver

receiver finds sender stood over a body

sender stitches up receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender digs their finger into receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender frantically checks receiver for injuries under all the blood

sender guides receiver's bloody hands under a faucet / water source and begins washing them clean

sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood

sender tilts receiver's head back to staunch a nosebleed

sender draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :)

receiver finds sender cleaning up a kill in a daze

sender looks receiver in the eye as they shoot / stab / kill someone

sender ruffles receiver's hair, getting blood all over their hand

sender gets some of receiver's blood on them and makes a face

sender flicks blood at receiver to annoy them

sender stomps in a pool of blood to splash it on receiver

sender slips in their victim's blood but receiver steadies them before they can fall

sender steadies receiver when they slip in the blood sender spilled

receiver comes home to sender covered in blood and waiting for them with all the lights off

sender spits out a tooth and it hits receiver

sender tries to wipe blood off receiver but the blood on their hands just makes it worse

sender takes an injury meant for receiver

sender shows up on receiver's doorstep covered in blood

sender sits down quietly next to receiver after receiver kills someone

sender punches receiver in the mouth

receiver watches sender lick the blood off their fingers like its cheeto dust

sender helps receiver bury a body

sender hugs receiver just to get their victim's blood all over them <3

sender hugs receiver just to get their blood all over them <3

sender leans on receiver for support

sender kills someone to protect receiver

receiver finds sender in a frenzy maiming a body after they've already killed it

sender kills someone and the blood spatters on receiver

receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself

sender kisses receiver to taste the blood on their busted lip

sender shoots / stabs receiver non - fatally as a warning

[dreadranger]

“It’s been too long, partner.” Boothill himself can’t help the grin that makes its way to his face. It’s good to see someone he’d consider a partner once more. Especially given that in his line of work, he primarily acts alone. And with the kind of motivation that serves as his guiding star, the people he can trust tend to amount to very few.

Perhaps he’d have asked after how Dan Heng is doing if he had been the sort to entertain such polite platitudes, but he’d long parted with such niceties. No such thing as manners when it’s a matter of life and death, when it’s a matter of who’s finger hits the hammer faster. Besides, he’s the sort that would rather cut to the heart of the matter. In other circumstances, had life allowed him to be softer than steel, then his mannerism may have been different.

Yet as it is now, the other is alive, with all limbs attached. That’s as good a circumstance as any. It’s more than a foolish man could hope for, given that the both of them walk their own respective paths, each rife with their own share of dangers.

“Thanks, partner. Don’t know what I woulda done without ya.” Well, that is a bit of a lie; he does know what he would have done. He likely would have found a way to fix it himself, or in the worst case, found someone else to help. But a man like Boothill has many enemies and he may be a reckless fool, but he knows better to invite danger. The fact he’s turned his back to the other, both physically and metaphorically, speaks more to the trust in the other than words could ever serve.

“I don’t think I could trouble y’all like that.” Though he appreciates the offer, he hopes there is no reason to ever have to consider taking it. At present, he’s fine, aside from the few screws he had loose.

“Speakin’ of trouble, if ya ever find yourself in it, y’can trust your old pal Boothill to bail ya out of it.”

The words are said with the grin and vivacious laugh customary to the cowboy. It’s less of an offer, more of a promise. What kind of man would he be if he did not return the favor? He may be dedicated to his revenge, but he’s never once forgotten about the kind of man he is. The kind of man he struggles to be.

“Still, gotta say, s’nice seein’ ya in more peaceful circumstances.”