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 ignited the flames on his hands as he gripped his Duke's Hellraisers, sending rows of burning bullets towards the Crimson Clone.

The Clone's arm blade was massive and sharp. It charged on ahead through the bullets, some past through it, but others found themselves embedded into its crimson skin, and soon they glowed in bright orange. The Representative's instincts kicked in, and he made a lightning fast charge.

The bullets ignited into tinier flames, but their quantity made up for the flame's quality. The Clone stopped slightly during its charge, screeching at the pain the embedded bullets were inflicting, before Valefar's clenched claw jabbed the Clone in the jaw.

Whether it was an imagination to his ears or not, Valefar did hear something crack as his fist sent the Clone flying into the air, before he shot himself to keep up with the Clone once more.

His eyes widen as the Clone shook its head and faced downward toward him.

Dancing with Crimson