#drexodthegunslinger

The ruins of Beijing were beautiful in their own destructive way. Temples were worn and some were fallen, but the nature around them brought them back to life. Trees sprouted form the walls, grass grew along the boarders, and wildlife used them as protection from the outside. Selene took the time to walk through the city and admire how mother nature took over.  Her date was in a few hours, and she still had plenty of time to take in the different scents and sights. She met a few deer along her way, and her Snow White-like attraciton so animals had her feeding them some of her snacks.  And after she realized she fed all her food to them, she had to shoo them away to head to Drex’s apartment. 

When she transmatted on his balcony, the woman took the idiotic move of glancing behind her to look down at the hieght.  Her legs wobbled and she gripped the railing hard enough it groaned under pressure. After a few moments, the nausea subsided and she slowly walked to the door before giving it a few knocks. 

@drexodthegunslinger

One of the reasons Selene rarely steps foot on Mars is because of the racket. 

Poeple who never lived in the wilderness all their Guardian lives would say that it was calm and peaceful. Selene lived in the woods, and as someone who spent their time collecting sounds and smells of the outdoors would say it was anything but silent, with the rush of wind and scraping sand, the crunch of feet over and under the ground, the distant call of predator and prey--or whatever lived on this god-awful planet. 

And right now, Selene could confirm to others that this planet was far off from peaceful. In her eyes, Mars needed snow. 

Her ship was hidden within a crevass, solid rock covering the idea of life on the ground. She took one last breath of real oxygen before her helmet materialized over her face. When she took another, the synthetic taste planted itself on her tongue.  She hated it.  She would have to deal with it for a week. She lived in worse areas with no oxygen, and her past experiences with lack of said living component were all too real. But she needed to do this. She had to try. 

So the Huntress took careful steps out into the sand dunes, feeling the heat of the sand from inside her boots and the dry scrape of sand as the wind rushed it over her body. The coordinates given from Drex were only a few clicks to the north of her location. So she took her rifle and strapped it over her back, beggining the tredge towards the area. 

The clap of thunder shook the muddy earth beneath her feet and by instinct, she huddled into her cloak. The downpour was so vicious her vestments offered little protection and barely retained warmth. Only by doggedly following Drexod through the howling storm did she build enough body heat to continue, but slowly, even that was draining away.

The two rested by day and traveled by the cloak of night. There was little shelter to be found; namely, ditches in the ground, a hill to conceal them if they lied flat on the cold earth, and certainly no buildings or even thick enough copses to hide her tent from prying German eyes. Though she packed enough food to keep their strength, their persistent march wore at their muscles and her resolve. Did he know where he was going? Were they lost? Despite their exhaustion she followed on, even into the stormy night.

A crack of lightning briefly illuminated the grassy, rocky landscape around them and revealed a large, man-made shape in the distant. As she pushed on, the shape grew closer – a barn.

A feeling of dread welled up inside of her, and her senses prickled. Drexod was heading straight for the building.

Unable to shake the overwhelming sense of wrongness, she took him by the arm and shouted over the storm, “I have a bad feeling about this place! There’s something wrong here, we should keep moving!”

A gentle afternoon rain pattered atop the roof of Phaenna’s tent and filled the interior with its sussurus. The witch had turned her two arm chairs to face each other for what she had planned and beckoned Drexod to sit. She moved slowly, purposefully around her parlor and lit a few white candles. Charcoal briquettes were set upon a dish filled with sand and lit. Once they glowed a faint red she scattered a few pinches of loose, powdered sandalwood over them and released their warm, sweet, woodsy scent.

Pia hopped upon the nearby coffee table and curled up her bushy, mottled tail while watching Drexod intently. Every few moments the tip of her tail flicked with interest. When Phaenna finally sat in the chair across from him, the cat glanced at her with a “Prrp?”, to which the woman smiled.

“Sì, Pia, lui è,” Phaenna cooed.

Looking to Drexod, she placed her hands on her lap and began. “When I find people who appear to show a great potential for magic, I like to teach them and open them to that world,” she said, “Though we haven’t known each other for long, I sense that potential within you too. You’ve seen things thus far that you may not have seen before: my cursing the German who attacked you, healing you overnight, meeting Mar- the vampire. In only a handful of days you’ve been exposed to more than most people never get to see. I feel that it is best that you understand magic so that you can prepare yourself for that new – or rather, very old level of reality.”

She leaned forward with a serious stare. “Drexod, I want to make it very clear that once you step on this path, you can never step off ever again. Once your eyes are opened you will always see what many think isn’t there. You will become awakened and you will always see a part of the world that many don’t recognize – and if they did recognize it, they would fear it and try to destroy it, including you and me. You will learn about things that can be amazing and you will learn about things that can be deeply unsettling. This will be a new chapter in your life and open up so many possibilities for you, and I want you to understand that if you choose to go down this road – to nurture the natural ability within you – you will not have to walk this road alone, but you can never go back again. With that in mind – do you want me to teach you to use magic, to harness the power within you and in all things?”

One thousand. That was the number of thugs occupying Georgetown: one thousand, armed for better or worse. Phaenna counted her assets: one hundred (a little less after the fight against Lucky) from Bethany Village and four hundred in Bartica, plus air support from the Kingswind.

It was the final step of her campaign against El Verraco, the one man responsible for foiling her jobs in South America, the one thorn in her side. It was not enough to simply remove him from the picture, no - she knew a crony would step into his place and pick up where he left off.

No, no, wetwork was no solution. A total takeover would keep her at the top and give her control.

She opened and shut her hands anxiously. She had only ever led her crew, sometimes acting as the control over a multi-group operation. But was she ready to control a group of fifteen hundred total gang members?

It was either that, or be driven out of South America forever. With a sigh, she messaged Drexod.

[USER KOSMA: Let’s make plans for this last step: taking on Verraco. The big guy. Meet me in my tent, I have the holographic map of the Georgetown compound set up.]