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

Valefar went onto the roof of the 27 Club. He wasn't really much interested in traveling and gaining views from the street level. Jumping onto the club's roof, he snapped his fingers and the Hellfire telephone popped up in front of him in the air slightly.

Grabbing the telephone and punching in the number, he called Silverton. "It's Val. I need some info on some place here in Oyster Bay, something about a branch of a history museum." He snapped his fingers. "Ah yeah, the Historical American Revolutionary place, whatever."

"Noted. I did some travelling before in Oyster Bay, so I'll send you a letter with the details. How's Fields?"

"That fucker told me that MAYBE he got into contact with Denton last year."

Doing Our Parts in a War