Private Lake Horatio Reckless Missfire

[Bonnie Bonbon]

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Ever since she began playing the infamous game, Bonnie had realized that players rarely shared common ground in regards to their masteries. Perhaps more accurately, the chances of people sharing masteries were slim; but the chances of them being shared and used similarly were even worse. As such, it stood to reason that the world in game had people from all walks of life and their organizations, each with their own share of wonderful skills for hire. Though high fantasy in nature, Terrasphere oddly had the depth of a living, breathing world unlike many games.

Sadly, sometimes people just don't give a fuck about your skills, and Terrasphere simulated that as well. This wasn't a job for a whistle, but she had to take it anyways — such is the rule of mother necessity.

'Well, ain't this a pain the ass…' It was early in the morning and light peered through the foliage high above. To her side, a picturesque view of that one massive lake somebody once had told her the name of , but she couldn't be assed to remember it. Considering how pissed she was for being forced to wait on trees like a shortie-monkey looking for one single damn target, the name of a lake was the least of her concerns. With a few gestures, the blonde summoned up her molten brandy before popping out the cap and transferring some of the contents to her [barrel canteen].

Perhaps a coincidence bestowed upon her by the gods (and totally because she hadn't been waiting for two days), the flora below rustled as something made its way through. Her wonderful little target had at long last arrived; a small biped creature with pale blue fluff spotted white, canine features, and a comically large leather bag bouncing on its back. Koboids were thievish little creatures not unlike goblins, but far too skittish to organize raids like the greenskins.

This one had been stealing from a nearby village for months, and taking it out was her job. Bonnie dismissed her brandy back into her inventory before she took a swig from her canteen, 't's high-noon time pardner…!' and before long the thunder of gunshots resounded in a large area around her. Flocks of birds soared to the skies, land animals scattered on the wake of such a violent sound. Hunter and prey engaged in a chase of life and death, but...

It appeared the hunter had no idea what in the world she was doing. Despite the constant bang of gunpowder filling the air, not one of her shots landed. In such a hopeless chase, would she ever catch her target?

 

[Gwyn ap Herne]

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Gwyn felt drawn to see Oflainn when she heard about the village. The news about what had occurred while they were absent was sobering, but that things carried on and that the Yladians hadn't entirely lost a new home was a relief. She'd wanted to see it for herself. But first. A trip through Lake Horatio's domain and a few troublesome bandits and beasts put down along the way. Most were below her stead at this point, but that just meant her impact could be made faster and further spread. And, more importantly, with less risk to newer players to this carnival of carnage.

The crack of gunfire immediately brought her to a stop, head whipping up to seek out the source of the rapport. It echoed oddly across the open fields and water. It was somewhat dampened. A scan across the valley with Hyper Sense flaring to life dropped the answer in her lap like a dependable bloodhound. Gwyn pulled the burning bow from its place of honor over her spine and followed the heading to a sparsely forested area nearby. The sight that greeted her was heralded by what looked like a girl had stumbled out of a bar whose greatest claim to fame was a mechanical bull. And she had a fucking pistol in hand. Was that even allowed? When the fuck did Terrasphere allow guns? When did Arcia invent them? Her expression screwed up in confusion laced with a twinge of offense. Bows not fucking good enough, huh?

Sure. Loud as all hell and clearly missing the mark. The Mark itself, a weak, but nimble little fucker. Honestly, she was a little impressed the girl seemed to roughly be keeping pace with it while simultaneously ruining her aim at a full sprint and blinding herself with muzzle flashes and clouds of smoke. At least she didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, so Gwyn lifted a hand half-curled to her mouth and made to be heard over the panicked hammer-fanning (hopefully). "You need some help there? Your aim is wide with the recoil and the running. Find high ground and stand still already!" She shook her head. What a mess.

 

[Bonnie Bonbon]

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One more shot, again and again — pull the trigger, and win the game. That was Bonnie’s initial plan when first forging her guns, but her brains did not match the skill and experience needed to shoot something dead. Said concerns, however, were shoved to the back of her mind as she trusted the system to fill in for her lack of technique, while at the same time loathing the idea of being supported by the auto assist mode. Given such an oddly specific needs and wants, it shouldn’t be a surprise that her hunting method sucked.

‘Thankya, cap’n obvious!’ the blonde blurted out mid-shots intentionally feigning ignorance towards Gwyn’s advice. What was it that the new arrival was telling her again? Pull the trigger to shoot? Oh, please. Anyone that had ever seen a wild west movie could pull that off.

…Maybe.

Another shot, and the fae was then down to her final bullet. One more shot, and her weapon would be sentenced to a long and burdensome reload process that she had no way around. Failing the quest meant no gold in her pockets, and that meant an empty hunger bar. At this point, even someone as stubborn as herself could tell that brute forcing things was not going to work. It was then that the fellow blonde’s words resounded in her mind - - -

As her prey fled deeper into the forested area, Bonnie stopped on her tracks and pulled her second revolver from its holster. Aiming down the slope the creature had just taken, her ranged weapon glows with martial energy. It was a brief attack, energy coalesced in bullet form and shot towards the canine’s right leg, forcing it to crash face first into the ground. Bonnie then aimed the revolver loaded with one last bullet. Should she risk it? A moment went by, and her target had already started to move again. Instinct forced her to take a step forward, sliding down the slope before jumping and landing on top of the Koboid.

‘Ya ain’t runnin’ noooow!’ What ensued was a fight for survival; the blonde wrestled against a creature that felt not like an amalgamation of data, but a living and breathing entity that just wanted to see the sun shine for another day. Sat on top of its back and with her left arm snaking around its throat, Bonnie struggled to aim at its head, having instead decided to pull the trigger at its back. One last thunder of gunfire cracked, and her prey’s efforts became significantly weaker… Until they were no more. The aftermath was a fae sitting atop her prey, ragged breaths escaping her mouth.

She hated this game.

‘See? Ain’t no helpin’ needed here, my good ladd. Even a baby oughtta know how to aim and shoot.’ she adjusted the front of her stylish western hat with the tip of her six shooter. Bonnie scanned her surroundings, looking for the mysterious person as her hand reached for her trusty canteen for another swig.

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@Gwyn ap Herne​

 

[Gwyn ap Herne]

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Gwyn followed the two like the master of the hunt follows their paired hounds. The white fringe and mantle of the other player's coat was the white-tipped foxhound's tail. And look at that. Gwyn wore red as usual, just like the horse-mounted master should. Shame she didn't have Paradis anymore. Some poor schmuck was now in possession of the most easily bored and stubbornly curious horse this side of the Atlantic or whatever the fuck they called their version of the ocean. Sea shit wasn't her thing.

This was. Hunting. And this? This was sad.

The fact she was a gunman made her loud, but her every step crashed through field and forest. Gwyn would have thought she was aiming for downed branches to snap and rocks to kick, save that she didn't think the girl was capable of multitasking breathing right and shooting at the same time, either. The other lucked out. Her prey made a critical mistake before she did, and Bonnie finally took the patient shot from a vantage point that Gwyn had suggested - okay, perhaps ordered.

And then, for whatever damnable reason, she lunged down the fucking slope to grapple and shoot it pointblank instead of drawing another bead. "Jesus fucking Christ." The huntress sighed in agony, both hands dragging over her face. What a painful sight. What a pitiful display. Newbies. Fuck, was she this bad when she first started? Gwyn ap Herne, trophies from her greatest kills inked into her arm, fumbling through the woods and missing one kobold-looking thing a hundred times. If something did get the jump on this player though? She hoped it had the kindness to kill her quick instead of a bloody wheezing bleed to a bullet in the back.

And then the runt had the audacity? Ugh.

Gwyn finally peeled away from the camouflage of the woodlands and neared. All 6'6" and muscle and a burning bow and a title under name and crown-studded leathers under a blood-red coat. In the shadows, her Hyper Sense's passive made her eyes catch light like a beast's. Reflecting back like a coyote in a field or a gator sunk in the water. Lad. "Sure. Even babies." She eyed the other ranged (certain as fuck wasn't a ranger), "Glad it was a flight response and not a fight response. But your grappling was decent."

Gwyn's lone retrieved tame caught up at the tail end of her "compliment." A long shape in the shadows glided closer to her with a clear sound of heavy weight forcing aside the undergrowth and a lowing hissing breath. Behind the huntress' reflective eyes rose a second pair. Watching and unblinking.

 

[Bonnie Bonbon]

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Sharpening eyes focused where the hunter emerged from within, as if one with her surroundings despite the massive difference in their size. The equipment, the way she carried herself and how she had chosen to be detected by Bonnie was a clear sign of skill and so much more. Bonnie was a fae as stubborn as a cranky old door determined to ruin your sleep at 3 AM, but even someone as annoying as herself had to admit — Before her was a pro, a veteran. A survivor of this sick game. Even so, she wasn't just gonna back down and play puppy. Not without a fight.

Something something daring stubborn brat.

''Course it was a flight response. Ain't no monster gonna run at a gun and leave without a hol' to tell the story.' the blonde took yet another swig out of her canteen before hanging it on her belt by using a makeshift wire. 'So? Whatcha need? Were ya lookin' for this fella here? Sorry 'bout that, quest's mine now.'

Bonnie's hand instinctively rested atop of her holstered gun when the alarming crawling could be clearly heard. She had been traveling here and there in Terrasphere for some days now, but she hadn't encountered something large enough to make such noise — and then it revealed itself. A massive reptile that appeared to have come straight out of the 2000s hollywood movies about big evil snakes. While she wasn't easily scared, Bonnie wasn't a reckless and daft traveler; she knew not to mess with that thing, and her hand slithered away from her weapon of choice.

'...But ye. Been practicing some skills in case some smartass chooses melee against the cowgal here. They ain't seein' what's com–gah?!' It happened in a flash. In one moment, the blonde gloated about her nonexistent experience and skills, and on the next, she had fallen on her back. Her prey had waited for this moment to strike, and in that moment she learned - - -

You never underestimate anything that's been cornered for their life.

In a mighty push unbecoming of a kobold, the canine biped pushed Bonnie over and reached for its massive leather bag. As its hand parted away with the stolen belongings, a crude but nonetheless effective axe is revealed; Like a guillotine sentencing the newbie to death, it was raised above and aimed straight down at the fae's neck - - -

Was that going to be her first death?
​

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@Gwyn ap Herne​

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[Gwyn ap Herne]

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An eyebrow arched at the response the girl took a moment to gather and swing fully into. No. There were absolutely monsters that would run at a gun and leave whole and hale. They just weren't here. The boldness and security she had in those guns could be preserved for a little while longer. "Headed to Oflainn, actually. And I'm not really the type to go snipe bounties from people. Not unless I don't like there being a bounty." The old memory resurfaced. A suit of armor, blood-red eyes in the black of the slots. A forest guardian. A scared elf taken from her home. Pay to retrieve her, but pride in letting her go. "Easy enough to hunt when others think they're the hunters and all."

She'd continued talking even as Bonnie set her hand on the pistol. Gwyn wasn't the least bit concerned about Nathair being shot. The anaconda had been a defensive powerhouse before, and the four years since had only let him comfortably grow larger and larger. Apparently he'd feasted himself plenty pleased on any gnoll, goblin, bandit, or orc that was stupid enough to get near the glade. Hearing Bonnie had picked Martial Arts in case anyone got in close range combat immediately kicked a laugh out of Gwyn, only to be summarily silenced when the little beast suddenly moved.

Nathair struck in an instant, already raised and waiting for the very moment. Sneaky fucking beast. While Bonnie's vision may have been the terrifying sight of a raised axe and snarling monster, it got darker for a split second when Nathair's wrenched open and dislocated jaw haloed around the kobold. Rows of curved, needle-thin teeth visibly flexed out of the gums to stretch. To reach. To hook. And then the kobold and its weight were gone. The bag and axe were flung to either side of Bonnie with a noisy clatter, cut only but the lush grass.

The anaconda reeled himself backwards on a trunk of a body made purely of muscle. His head whipped sideways just as he passed his master, mouth opening and leaving the kobold hanging in midair between serrated jaws. Gwyn had rotated herself sharply to face him and didn't hesitate at all to slam a fist into the kobold from above, the teeth raking along either side of her arm from Nathair's continued pull backwards.

The wet thud of the kobold and cracked bones and cratered soil were satisfying.

Gwyn flexed her arm and rolled her wrist, fist still balled. Nathair moved slower now, reaching out to pry the body from the earth and devour it whole. "Looks like we had the same idea then, Bonnie Bonbon," she answered finally and moved forward to offer the girl a hand back up. The huntress watched the other carefully, taking in the reaction to what could have been a nasty fight or even a pitiful death.

 

[Bonnie Bonbon]

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The world shifted and her vision blurred for a brief yet fatal trip down the verdant dirt. As her vision recovered and her blues could discern what in the the world had happened, her executor had been long awaiting for her neck. Alas for the canine biped, Gwyn’s beast had decided that it was kobold snack day instead. It wasn’t far fetched to imagine that the biped had met its maker in such a brutally efficient way that… it probably hadn’t known death had arrived on its door.

Even if just for a moment, her visage had lost all the spunk and confidence she had displayed. Instead, it was replaced by needlessly blinking eyes and a mouth that just refused to stay shut — and as Gwyn helped her back on her feet, she noticed the mighty serpent gobbling up the kobold like a cookie. Her lower lip snapped shut immediately and nervous sweat cascaded down her features. Thank the gods, the earth, the sky, and everything in between that she was smart enough to not pull the trigger

— or she could’ve been the treat instead.

Snapping back to reality, Bonnie’s blues wandered around unable to look the huntress in the eyes, but also unable to look at the casual feasting occurring in the background as though it was time for Nathair’s breakfast. ‘Uh, uhm… Thanks. I owe you one.’ she tried her damned hardest not to display her newfound insecurity. Much to her chagrin, however, the hyper-sensing huntress surely could tell how Bonnie’s lower eyelids twitched every time her eyes met Nathair. And she thought smashing bunnies with a rock was the worst this game had to offer…

A light breeze quietly whispered by, and she realized her signature hat had been dropped amidst the sudden commotion. ‘Where did you even find such a big snake, anyways?’ she promptly allowed her stylish western hat atop her head again after picking it up and patting it here and there. ‘Ain’t ever seen them sneks grow that big ol’ size.’ In order to extend the time she wouldn’t have to look at the giant anaconda, the blonde moved on to pick the leather bag and the axe before lugging it all over her shoulder.

‘Fancy sharing skills with ya, big gal..? Wait, who in the rollin’ tumbleweed told ya my name?’ eyebrows furrowed and free hand resting on her hips, she glared at the huntress.

‘I knew ya just wanted the job. Heh. Anyways, thank ya for everything! I’mma head on to that Of- Ofa-Oaflainn' breath, girl, breathe '- village and turn in all the stolen stuff. See ya ‘round next high noon!’ with a wave high up in the air and her back turned, she proceeded to leave the area. Perhaps it was because of the commotion and her absolutely fantastic display of hunting skills, but -

Bonnie was, of course, going the wrong way.

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@Gwyn ap Herne​

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[Gwyn ap Herne]

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"Don't mention it." Nathair coiled around himself, a habit of security while eating, but was pleased enough with the morsel to ignore them both in the aftermath. Gwyn glanced back at the beast with a roll of her eyes. "As for Nathair, I found him in Adecus. Spent near an hour grappling with him outside a village he'd been hunting in the river of, back before the trees got cleared and the capital made the area safer. Got a hawk for... Rye? And Akino. Akino got a fucking panda." She snorted. Adecus Forest didn't really exist anymore. A few spots of trees remained, but the expansion and lumber demands leveled the timbers.

"Hmm, I divined it." Her tone flat. The 'cowgal' collected the fallen loot and Gwyn was glad that hadn't got dragged in with the kobold. Waiting for Nathair to hack those up would have been boring. And slimy. "If you activate Investigation Mode, it'll show you key information about other players, NPCs, enemies, items, and sometimes environmental effects. Having Hu- Hyper Sense gives more information. Astramancy might be able to literally divine it, though. Would have to ask a mage."

Again, she was not interested in an entry level quest unless lives were on the line from some gaggle of goblins or whatever. No point nattering to the kid who did more than enough for both of them. The blonde Faerin turned in time to miss the growing shark-like smile on Gwyn's face. All these uppity little lights in the dark. Candle flames that thought themselves wildfires. She chuckled lowly, though not unkindly, and reached out.

Muscle that may as well have been steel served as an anchor that pulled Bonnie backwards and off-kilter. The hand fisted in the fluffy mane around her neck did so with the familiarity of scruffing two, massive Kangals. It was easy for Gwyn to twist the girl around, sidestepping to stay behind her, while she pointed Bonnie the opposite direction. A cheerfully considering hum filled the arm's length distance between Gwyn's icy blue gaze at the back of a short blonde head. The ranger let the other sweat for just a moment before - "Oflainn is thataways. We're headed the same way and there's safety in numbers, so, how about you escort me? Nathair, come."

Gwyn slipped by her, releasing the grip when they came abreast. Nathair remained behind the two, beady eyes on Bonnie, but content with his meal for the moment. And very aware that even years of allegiance wouldn't stop Gwyn from skinning him if he struck a humanoid. He made sure to push his disgruntlement across the odd bond forged by her mastery. Brat.

"Oh, and as for skills: Ranged Weapons, Martial Arts, Beast Taming, Hunting, and Spellbane - ah fuck, did it again. Sorry, that's Beast Arts, Hyper Sense, and Guard Arts." She muttered crossly, counting back out the last three on her fingers a second time. Years of different names and how easily they came to her was hard to shake. It wasn't the real reason the devs should be throttled, admittedly...

"You? And why Terrasphere? Don't you know the 'rumors'?" All of it said without even once questioning that Bonnie would follow as bade.