Wintergreen
The Heart of The Party
"Any last words?" A man among many had said.
It was Steven Moteef, The leader of a wondering, hunter group of outlaws. They did shady work that other hunters wouldn't do. They also did other work other than hunt monsters, they hunted people too.
There were 5 of them, Steven and his 4 goons that stood idly by until the action happened. The town streets were empty, the air thick with threat. The bandits had surrounded him and had him under their thumb.
"Yeah , Your sum-bitches won't take me down without a fight" The outlaw under pressure finally spoke.
He quickly reached for his revolver. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. His chances were slim, but if he was fast enough - no, lucky enough, he could survive. His sharpshooter hand magnetized towards the closest goon. As an outlaw his talent was unmatched, but for a man to handle so many would be nearly impossible. His hopes were high as he took out another goon reaching for his gun. But he wouldn't be fast enough, Steven Moteef, and his two remaining goons pulled out their guns out. Steven was the quickest and got the shot off first, followed by the 2 goons who slayed lead into him. 18 shots in total were put into him. The whole town seen this, He appeared to be as dead, the bullets sizzled and Steven blew the smoke off his gun. The outlaw was dead.
3 hours later.
Often times funerals were held right away and very quick, Many people died from the creatures out in the wild wasteland, too many to hold proper funerals, so there were many quick and sloppy funerals every day. There were many people to show up for the funeral. After prayers were said everyone faded and returned home. But not Steven, it seemed he had unfinished business with the outlaw. He got on his knees and felt around in the dry dirt, suddenly he slammed his fist hard at the ground 3 times. The weirdest thing occurred a hand came from out of the ground and someone rose from the dead. He pulled himself from the grave, he quickly took off his clothes. Steven had given him a fresh pair, he quickly slipped them on.
"How much was it again?" The outlaw said.
"About 300 coin" Steven said.
"damn, the price is a bit steep now, don't you think?"
"Tough times, The resources have been being raided more frequently by the creatures, it's harder to set these little meetings up, After all this is, what? the 5th time. You think blood packets and blanks are cheap?"
"Yeah, and you even brought me new attire"
"Yeah, I did, Almost forgot, that'd be another 30"
The outlaw dished out his coin, he was running low, this meant when he got back to his town he'd have to do some hunters work. He was thankful for Steven regardless of how gluttonous his pocket was. The men both shook hands before they parted ways.
He found himself walking these deserts alone to return to his home, which was in a secluded and quiet place in the desert. By the time he was back it was dark out. The whole place was quiet and the stars said everything you needed to know about the town. The first place he entered was the tavern, as he opened the gates the silence was interrupted by the drunk towns people and hunters. He grabbed himself a stool to sit in. An old bald man came out. He had a monocle on. As he walked he spit in a cup and used the rag to clean off the cup.
"What's your name this time boy?"
"Sylvester Freshmen"
"Why is the more you change names, the more risky you get?"
"Why is it the older get wiser, You always know it's me, one of these days I'll get you"
"Haha you think so, You're eyes always give it away, you got the spark of innovation"
"Don't get gushy on me old-timer, Got any good work?"
"Check for yourself"
Sylvester got up out of his chair to check the board, it was filled with all sorts of work, from wanted posters, to monster hunts. On the board he saw the opportunity of the life time......
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Staring....
@Wintergreen as the Outlaw
@Zul'Zae'ju'Jin as the Lawman
The apocalypse ruined everything. But this is the story of how that all changed....
It was Steven Moteef, The leader of a wondering, hunter group of outlaws. They did shady work that other hunters wouldn't do. They also did other work other than hunt monsters, they hunted people too.
There were 5 of them, Steven and his 4 goons that stood idly by until the action happened. The town streets were empty, the air thick with threat. The bandits had surrounded him and had him under their thumb.
"Yeah , Your sum-bitches won't take me down without a fight" The outlaw under pressure finally spoke.
He quickly reached for his revolver. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. His chances were slim, but if he was fast enough - no, lucky enough, he could survive. His sharpshooter hand magnetized towards the closest goon. As an outlaw his talent was unmatched, but for a man to handle so many would be nearly impossible. His hopes were high as he took out another goon reaching for his gun. But he wouldn't be fast enough, Steven Moteef, and his two remaining goons pulled out their guns out. Steven was the quickest and got the shot off first, followed by the 2 goons who slayed lead into him. 18 shots in total were put into him. The whole town seen this, He appeared to be as dead, the bullets sizzled and Steven blew the smoke off his gun. The outlaw was dead.
3 hours later.
Often times funerals were held right away and very quick, Many people died from the creatures out in the wild wasteland, too many to hold proper funerals, so there were many quick and sloppy funerals every day. There were many people to show up for the funeral. After prayers were said everyone faded and returned home. But not Steven, it seemed he had unfinished business with the outlaw. He got on his knees and felt around in the dry dirt, suddenly he slammed his fist hard at the ground 3 times. The weirdest thing occurred a hand came from out of the ground and someone rose from the dead. He pulled himself from the grave, he quickly took off his clothes. Steven had given him a fresh pair, he quickly slipped them on.
"How much was it again?" The outlaw said.
"About 300 coin" Steven said.
"damn, the price is a bit steep now, don't you think?"
"Tough times, The resources have been being raided more frequently by the creatures, it's harder to set these little meetings up, After all this is, what? the 5th time. You think blood packets and blanks are cheap?"
"Yeah, and you even brought me new attire"
"Yeah, I did, Almost forgot, that'd be another 30"
The outlaw dished out his coin, he was running low, this meant when he got back to his town he'd have to do some hunters work. He was thankful for Steven regardless of how gluttonous his pocket was. The men both shook hands before they parted ways.
He found himself walking these deserts alone to return to his home, which was in a secluded and quiet place in the desert. By the time he was back it was dark out. The whole place was quiet and the stars said everything you needed to know about the town. The first place he entered was the tavern, as he opened the gates the silence was interrupted by the drunk towns people and hunters. He grabbed himself a stool to sit in. An old bald man came out. He had a monocle on. As he walked he spit in a cup and used the rag to clean off the cup.
"What's your name this time boy?"
"Sylvester Freshmen"
"Why is the more you change names, the more risky you get?"
"Why is it the older get wiser, You always know it's me, one of these days I'll get you"
"Haha you think so, You're eyes always give it away, you got the spark of innovation"
"Don't get gushy on me old-timer, Got any good work?"
"Check for yourself"
Sylvester got up out of his chair to check the board, it was filled with all sorts of work, from wanted posters, to monster hunts. On the board he saw the opportunity of the life time......
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Staring....
@Wintergreen as the Outlaw
@Zul'Zae'ju'Jin as the Lawman
The apocalypse ruined everything. But this is the story of how that all changed....