Snipe's Humble Abode

Howdy. Xerexian bounty hunter operatin' outta Thunder Junction, formerly of the Shamashen. Nice to meetcha. (RP Blog, Snipe goes by they/them solely)

[lonesome-hunter]

Belly of the Beast.

Snipe woke up in a barren place. Cloying and cold gray fog surrounded them, with vague shapes in the distance. Their head aches as they remember. Right, they're not the proper Snipe, just a fragment sent after... someone, stuck within Xerex on a rescue mission. Their hair stood on edge. HUNT was somewhere nearby. But they couldn't spy anything beyond the shadows, so... They began to move, readying their rifle.

Movement. They fired a bullet marred by a sigil towards the shape. The shadows of some indistinct fiend. Not HUNT, but in pursuit of a god, sacrifices must be made, right? So the innocent dies, screeching out a distorted scream. Their name started with a B, right? They couldn't remember... Not that it mattered much, now, as the splintering bullet tore through them and shot into the fog.

Reload. Fire again, at another movement. Again, not HUNT. Some human. He was from Capenna, weren't he? A G name, they think. They just need to tear through these wisps to finally get at HUNT.

A shape. Fractalline. This must be HUNT... No. Squirms too much. Bleeds too little. V comes to mind, but who cares? They stood in the path of this accursed bullet.

No, these are innocents. You aren't supposed to allow innocents to come to harm. And yet, shot after shot, all that are struck are innocents. Blurred wisps, surely from the past, yet totally unfamiliar.

A disillusioned spectator draws away from this scene of continuous gunfire as time stretches to eternity before stepping into the Hall again. Looking at this stone coffin containing the small sliver of forever containing the fragment. Why would HUNT get rid of such excellent quarries by killing them? It didn't need to play by those rules.

In this never-ending hall, lined with arrays of stone coffins pulled up and down by metal chains, each containing whatever small fragments of the offspring of HUNT. A fractalline structure of perfect torment. A glimpse into Hell, spiralling ever downward as HUNT engorges and strengthens itself upon these myriad malices.

The spectator draws away from the Halls. Its role here is complete. To witness the torments of a fractured realm. It need not do more than simply watch.

[lonesome-hunter]

A Hunt.

Snipe stood upon a plateau looking out across a small canyon carved upon the landscape where their quarry hid out. A small cave hid somewhere within, holding a bandit gang that waylaid travellers on the regular. To their fortune, and Snipe's dismay, their cave hideout also extended and protected them within higher dimensions, so they simply had to stake them out.

As they waited, terrible memories came to mind of the past that they held onto. The one reason they couldn't return to Xerex, and what fuelled their hatred towards their so-called "Home". Their first, their last, and their only proper Hunt.

Freshly made. Memories and experiences that did not belong to them flooded their mind. Instructions, knowledge on certain actions, purpose. Disdain and hatred, dissent, wrath. As they got their bearings, a voice rang out behind them. "Oh, little Hunter. You carry the sin of dissent. Run, as fast as your freshly made feet will carry, for you will be my quarry. Your woes will be many, and I do so hope you dread that which is to come at the end of this Hunt." Upon unsteady footing, they stood and they ran, looking back upon the puppeted humanoid that sneered at them as the massive fractal beast plodded forth on the shifting mass of predators that made it up.

They ran through dry, dead forest wastes, with barren trees and thick brambles. The claws, talons and teeth tore at them as they fled through the Shamashen's twisted mockery of the woodlands. They made their way through arid badlands like the one they found themself in during the present.

Any shelter they took was found and rooted out. Any allegiances attempted was yet another puppet of the Hunt, sneering and cackling as betrayal sunk its talons unto the as-yet unnamed fractal as desperation overtook. No rest, no allowance for sanctuary of any kind. The Hunt brought down the jaws of Death, with no consideration for Life.

The end of the Hunt was anticlimactic. The chase through a desert composed of glass shards, the unnamed fractal sliding down a pit into a fresh Omenpath. The Hunt snarled and bit toward the fractal, attempting to ensnare them. They were not to leave when the Hunt needed to finish the way that was deemed. But it was a fruitless endeavor. The nameless fractal escaped into the Omenpath...

and the memory ends for them, yet the events continue that they could not know. The fractalline beast Hunt was left without its quarry. It snarled with hatred towards the escaped fractal. "Woe upon you, child. When you return, you will experience torments unknown to even your siblings I have ensnared."

Snipe shook off the memories as one of the bandits left the cave. It was time to take care of their own quarry.

[lonesome-hunter]

Bounty Fulfilled

Jeremy looked nervous as he exited the Omenport. His boss, Gesserith, had sent him to Thunder Junction to "clear some things up". He knew what that meant, a bounty on his head. It wasn't his fault the residents of Thunder Junction were so gullible that they actually listened when he demanded they pay a fee to get through the Omenport safely! Nor really when he uh... Okay, maybe it was his fault he let his temper out of control when he killed that other bounty hunter trying to arrest him. But, still, he was a Broker! Wasn't it their job to do crimes or whatever?

He stepped into the public space of Thunder Junction. He hated the blistering heat that constantly permeated the plane. "When I get back, Gesserith, I swear... Maybe I'll put laxatives or some shit in his coffee." He thought to himself. Where the hell was he even supposed to meet this bounty hunter, anyways? All Genocide Edmund said was "go to Thunder Junction, a bounty hunter wants to see you." Honestly, he was kinda terrified. Some of these bounty hunters can be real freaks.

Then, after a few seconds, he heard a strange noise from behind. The sound of... glass breaking? Then, a piercing impact across the chest. He had only seconds to look down at the hole that'd been punctured through his chest. Too slow on the draw to prepare a protection spell as he fell forward. Onlookers were shocked as blood sprayed across the sands, and a sniper round lodged itself in a nearby wooden beam.

The Xerexian bounty hunter, about a half-mile away, put their strange-looking rifle away. Bullseye, as usual. "These varmints... they're always just expectin' ta get away with murderin' and robbin' folks without much more than a slap on the wrist. Well. Time ta go collect m'bounty." They began moving towards the Omenport, in a half-blinkstep to make it faster. Once in town proper, they stopped the partial teleportation movement. Citizens gave the bounty hunter a wide berth, knowing their determined look after having seen them for some time.

They reached the body. Yep, dead as a stone. They checked the face. "Good, they ain't modified nothin' to avoid the law. Woulda been a hassle otherwise." They hoisted the corpse up, and began moving towards Thunder Junction's sherriff office. Honest pay for dirty work, but someone's gotta do it.