Deadslinger 5
You shot down a sheriff.
In his own town. Civilians were watching.
They saw you gun down a lawman in his own town.
Everyone single one of them saw, and each one of them were terrified.
Terrified. Angry. Confused.
All of those emotions were directed solely at you.
Most people would blink an eye, hesitate, or miss after they pull the trigger.
You won't. The Deadslinger Rose can't afford to.
So, what's after this? The local populace are terrified of you. They whisper The Deadslinger Rose like it's some second coming of the boogeyman. Bounty hunter? The Redstars hate you.
Nobody with a brain would ever hire you to guard a trade wagon, hell even housekeeping was out the door.
So, there was liquor. A lot of it. Not that you paid for it that much, nobody would dare look you in the eye and force you to pay.
Your muted, silver eyes.
You see them stare at you, because they know exactly who you are.
The Deadslinger Rose. Gunned down a total of 6 men without batting an eye. Slapped leather before they even took a breath. Rumors say she sees gunfights in slow motion. That her silver eyes glow when she takes a life.
You were legendary.
You certainly didn't feel like that at all.
Who could you go back to? Uncle Qrow? Dead.
Mom? Dead.
Dad? No clue where he is, or if he's even alive in the first place.
You've got nothing left. Nothing to live for. No riches to your name, only a headcount and some titles.
That's when you heard it.
The screams. The gunshots. The explosions and gusts of flame bursting out of the town. You saw her, gunning down everyone. Women. Children. It didn't matter. They all either got gunned down or burnt alive.
Figured she was coming for you, that everyone else was simply caught in the crossfire.
One bottle of cheap brandy down your gullet. One touch to your leather holster. One set of grit teeth.
All enough to kill someone.
You're so tired.
So, so very tired. You hate yourself. You hate the woman you've become. You hate the thrill you feel after taking someone's life. You hate that your only solace in your miserable existence is drinking yourself to death.
But right now?
This is your redemption.
Breathe.
Be fast.
Be efficient.
And so, here you are.
Against something you've never gone up against.
The flames are swirling around her. This is it. Your redemption.
The one moment in your entire pitiful existence, where pulling that trigger can actually mean something.
Just wait. Wait for the flames to part, when she unholsters, that's when the flames part. Your one and only shot.
Breathe.
Be fast.
Be efficient.
Don't miss.
Don't you fucking miss, Ruby Rose.