Vincent Valen
Member
Furi was cleaning up the bar for the night when he...or it rather came in.
“We’re closing up. Find yourself another place to get drunk at,” she said.
The figure didn’t respond, walking up to the bar. She couldn’t even see his face, the hood just covering utter darkness.
“Really can’t take a hint can you?” she said, placing a hand on her hip where a shotgun was in easy reach.
“What if I said I could answer any question you desired?” a voice said. It didn’t sound normal in the slightest. Not even a demvir sounded like that.
“I’d say you’re full of shit. If I could even see what you’re made up of,” she replied.
“Simply answer my questions. Then you may ask one of your own. Then I shall leave your establishment,” it said, actually taking a bow.
Furi rolled her eyes, the temptation to draw was there, but the possibility of a question of hers being answered was too much to ignore. She let out a sigh.
“Start talking.”
“Wonderful...first question. Do you believe in the supernatural?”
Furi rolled her eyes. What kind of question of that. With the existence of vistras and people who could literally summon demons from another plane of reality altogether, it was a rather pointless inquiry.
“World like this, you can’t say no to that. I’ve seen demons...in the form of humans and actual beasts. Doesn’t matter to me, long as I can put a bullet in their head. Next.”
“Have studies ever been important to you? Which avenue of study do you favor?”
“I study only what helps me kill things easier. Ballistics, time to reload, the impact of the bullet.”
“Have you tasted love? How would you profess your love?”
“Two questions and you’re already pushing your luck. No I haven’t ‘tasted’ it, as stupid as that sounds. Love isn’t something that occurs in my line of work."
“So are you saying it could never happen?”
“I don’t know. It’ll take a lot more than some drunk asshole or a sweet talking velen to get anything out of me though.”
"Do you want children of your own... or do you already have children?"
"If I wanted something that hounds me for food and attention, I'll get a dog. So no thanks."
"If you were to open a business, what would it be?"
"This bar is essentially a front for what I really do for a living. If I had the luxury, I'd create something that'd make it easier to communicate. Would make finding new clients much simpler."
"Are you good with money? Or are there any debts weighing you down?"
"I don't work for free, and I'm well worth the exa that people pay me. I don't have any complaints."
"If you knew there would be no repercussions, would you be able to rob from a bank?"
"No such thing as no repercussions. Everything has consequences. Escaping might involve having to shoot law enforcement. Good luck finding work and slipping away when the boys in blue don't care for you anymore."
"Were you ever tormented as a child... or were you the one to torment others?"
Finally, after having shot off so many answers, this was the question that gave the huntress pause. She thought long and hard before speaking again.
"The town I grew up in was not a home. It was a warzone. And as a kid I had to grow up in that. There were no schools, no markets, no society. Just a mosh pit of madness and violence. I had no friends, I was left in that place alone, with no answers as to who or why. And I lived through it all. The gunfights, the explosions, the rabid dogs, I survived."
"The woman you see before you now only exists because that girl refused to keel over and die."
The stranger hardly reacted, just nodding before proceeding.
"Have people looked down on you because of your bloodline? Your gender? Your beliefs? How do you react?"
"Gender doesn't mean all that much when there's a gun in your hand. Two things made me a target most of the time. My age and my skin color. The town was predominantly white, and I was like a unicorn in their midst, a trophy to be claimed and held high above all others."
"I am no ones trophy. I reacted as I should have."
"Have you ever been in a fight for your life?"
"Everyday I was there. You fought for food, for your home, or for your next breath. Status in that world was equivalent to the number of bullets you had left in your gun."
"What's your idea of rebellion? What would you risk your life to attain?"
"All I rebel against is the acceptance of death. As for attaining something...enough money to safely retire. That or a giant fucking laser."
"You are walking down a dark alley and a person steps out in front of you. What happens next?"
"I draw and I shoot him. Don't meander in dark alleys, idiot. You either identify yourself in five seconds or you die, plain as that."
"What's the cruelest thing you have ever done?"
"My interrogations. Brutality is unfortunately the best way to get information out of a person. I've broken bones, stabbed limbs. I even threatened to turn a man into a woman, in the most unpleasant way possible."
"What's the kindest thing you have ever done?"
"Allowing someone to live. It doesn't happen very often. If I do so, it’s because I find some value in it. A favor, a future ally, whatever."
"You pass a homeless person in the street. Do you walk past them?"
"I'll toss a few exa their way, if only to get them moving. I’d give them a gun if I could, but don’t want to chance that they’ll go cuckoo with it and try to rob a bank. With no repercussions," she said, referring to a previous question.
"How would you rate your sense of direction? Do you ever feel... lost?"
I work with as much information as I can. If you get lost doing what I do, find yourself another job."
"You are stranded in the middle of nowhere. What do you do?"
"Pick my ass up and start walking."
"What philosophy guides your life?"
"Life is cheap. Death pays. It means that every life is the same cheap price, until someone pays to cut one short."
"What is your idea of paradise?"
"My own private island. No gunshots, just the sound of the ocean."
"What is your idea of hell?"
"Going back to that place...you couldn't pay me any amount to go there again."
The stranger said nothing for awhile, almost like he was taking his time processing all the answers she'd given him.
"Satisfactory conclusion. Very well you may now ask one question," he said.
"What's stopping me from just threatening you with a gun until you give me more than one?"
"Then you would get nothing. Ask your question please."
"What's your limit?"
"I cannot tell you your future, nor can I regale you with tales before the creation of Terminus."
"So aside from that, anything is on the table?"
"Anything."
Furi went back into her personal thoughts, pacing along the length of the bar. She could ask about something bounty related, but that's something she could find on her own. Something personal? What was there to ask? The only things personal to her was her guns and her...
She got one. The huntress moved back to the stranger, looking at him intently before speaking her one and only question.
"What's my real name?"
[1284]
“We’re closing up. Find yourself another place to get drunk at,” she said.
The figure didn’t respond, walking up to the bar. She couldn’t even see his face, the hood just covering utter darkness.
“Really can’t take a hint can you?” she said, placing a hand on her hip where a shotgun was in easy reach.
“What if I said I could answer any question you desired?” a voice said. It didn’t sound normal in the slightest. Not even a demvir sounded like that.
“I’d say you’re full of shit. If I could even see what you’re made up of,” she replied.
“Simply answer my questions. Then you may ask one of your own. Then I shall leave your establishment,” it said, actually taking a bow.
Furi rolled her eyes, the temptation to draw was there, but the possibility of a question of hers being answered was too much to ignore. She let out a sigh.
“Start talking.”
“Wonderful...first question. Do you believe in the supernatural?”
Furi rolled her eyes. What kind of question of that. With the existence of vistras and people who could literally summon demons from another plane of reality altogether, it was a rather pointless inquiry.
“World like this, you can’t say no to that. I’ve seen demons...in the form of humans and actual beasts. Doesn’t matter to me, long as I can put a bullet in their head. Next.”
“Have studies ever been important to you? Which avenue of study do you favor?”
“I study only what helps me kill things easier. Ballistics, time to reload, the impact of the bullet.”
“Have you tasted love? How would you profess your love?”
“Two questions and you’re already pushing your luck. No I haven’t ‘tasted’ it, as stupid as that sounds. Love isn’t something that occurs in my line of work."
“So are you saying it could never happen?”
“I don’t know. It’ll take a lot more than some drunk asshole or a sweet talking velen to get anything out of me though.”
"Do you want children of your own... or do you already have children?"
"If I wanted something that hounds me for food and attention, I'll get a dog. So no thanks."
"If you were to open a business, what would it be?"
"This bar is essentially a front for what I really do for a living. If I had the luxury, I'd create something that'd make it easier to communicate. Would make finding new clients much simpler."
"Are you good with money? Or are there any debts weighing you down?"
"I don't work for free, and I'm well worth the exa that people pay me. I don't have any complaints."
"If you knew there would be no repercussions, would you be able to rob from a bank?"
"No such thing as no repercussions. Everything has consequences. Escaping might involve having to shoot law enforcement. Good luck finding work and slipping away when the boys in blue don't care for you anymore."
"Were you ever tormented as a child... or were you the one to torment others?"
Finally, after having shot off so many answers, this was the question that gave the huntress pause. She thought long and hard before speaking again.
"The town I grew up in was not a home. It was a warzone. And as a kid I had to grow up in that. There were no schools, no markets, no society. Just a mosh pit of madness and violence. I had no friends, I was left in that place alone, with no answers as to who or why. And I lived through it all. The gunfights, the explosions, the rabid dogs, I survived."
"The woman you see before you now only exists because that girl refused to keel over and die."
The stranger hardly reacted, just nodding before proceeding.
"Have people looked down on you because of your bloodline? Your gender? Your beliefs? How do you react?"
"Gender doesn't mean all that much when there's a gun in your hand. Two things made me a target most of the time. My age and my skin color. The town was predominantly white, and I was like a unicorn in their midst, a trophy to be claimed and held high above all others."
"I am no ones trophy. I reacted as I should have."
"Have you ever been in a fight for your life?"
"Everyday I was there. You fought for food, for your home, or for your next breath. Status in that world was equivalent to the number of bullets you had left in your gun."
"What's your idea of rebellion? What would you risk your life to attain?"
"All I rebel against is the acceptance of death. As for attaining something...enough money to safely retire. That or a giant fucking laser."
"You are walking down a dark alley and a person steps out in front of you. What happens next?"
"I draw and I shoot him. Don't meander in dark alleys, idiot. You either identify yourself in five seconds or you die, plain as that."
"What's the cruelest thing you have ever done?"
"My interrogations. Brutality is unfortunately the best way to get information out of a person. I've broken bones, stabbed limbs. I even threatened to turn a man into a woman, in the most unpleasant way possible."
"What's the kindest thing you have ever done?"
"Allowing someone to live. It doesn't happen very often. If I do so, it’s because I find some value in it. A favor, a future ally, whatever."
"You pass a homeless person in the street. Do you walk past them?"
"I'll toss a few exa their way, if only to get them moving. I’d give them a gun if I could, but don’t want to chance that they’ll go cuckoo with it and try to rob a bank. With no repercussions," she said, referring to a previous question.
"How would you rate your sense of direction? Do you ever feel... lost?"
I work with as much information as I can. If you get lost doing what I do, find yourself another job."
"You are stranded in the middle of nowhere. What do you do?"
"Pick my ass up and start walking."
"What philosophy guides your life?"
"Life is cheap. Death pays. It means that every life is the same cheap price, until someone pays to cut one short."
"What is your idea of paradise?"
"My own private island. No gunshots, just the sound of the ocean."
"What is your idea of hell?"
"Going back to that place...you couldn't pay me any amount to go there again."
The stranger said nothing for awhile, almost like he was taking his time processing all the answers she'd given him.
"Satisfactory conclusion. Very well you may now ask one question," he said.
"What's stopping me from just threatening you with a gun until you give me more than one?"
"Then you would get nothing. Ask your question please."
"What's your limit?"
"I cannot tell you your future, nor can I regale you with tales before the creation of Terminus."
"So aside from that, anything is on the table?"
"Anything."
Furi went back into her personal thoughts, pacing along the length of the bar. She could ask about something bounty related, but that's something she could find on her own. Something personal? What was there to ask? The only things personal to her was her guns and her...
She got one. The huntress moved back to the stranger, looking at him intently before speaking her one and only question.
"What's my real name?"
[1284]
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