TaintedMetal

Once upon a millennium ago, there was a Gunsmith from Hell, and he made hellish guns with abilities that were beyond human: Hellfire Arms. Of course, using these guns required a certain price: the human soul

But a "mishap" in Hell has caused many of the Arms to drop in the east coast city of Morissey, where not everyone is exactly a saint

In this fantastical representation of 1940's America, private investigator Chance Gordon works with the city's finest in order to get the Hellfire Arms back where they belong before the human race is slaughtered by Hellfire.

Bullets will be exchanged, and bodies will hit the floor.

Drip Work

Trent stood tall as he normally would, yet to Valefar, the crimson like mist coming out of the hostile man's body felt like something wasn't quite right with the Hellfire Arm user, but then again…


When has anything been normal since this damn crisis started?


"Mr. Bright gave me an upgrade, a big one to be fucking blunt." Trent spoke. His American Violence was holstered onto his own belt holster, but he raised his hands, the crimson mist surrounding it mixed together with the red and black glow that was engulfing him. His eyes were crimson. He charged forward and threw a punch toward Valefar. 


The Representative side stepped as Trent charged towards his direction once more. Valefar lowered his head as his opponent wanted to bash his brains out. 


Demonic Fury