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

"What are you talking about?" Barbie Keane demanded of Silverton, standing in his human form with jet black hair, slightly spikey, in addition to his own gray suit. "You left Valefar all there alone?"

"I didn't ask for it. He wanted this." Silverton explained as he went over to a chair, leaning against it. "Instead of making things easier, he's challenged Denton and Karmoz on a no holds barred fight, of course the Gunsmith has been keeping watch, Denton made the actual first move, and shot a bullet in him, so the Hellfire shadows are on stand by."

"But the Gunsmith has asked the shadows not to interfere just yet, they'll swoop it and clean the place up once Karmoz and Denton are put down."

"What's the hold up?" Howitzer demanded next. "I mean, Valefar's a tough bastard, a scary as fuck demon too. Doesn't he have his Duke's powers-"

"I took them away, on behalf on the Gunsmith."

Representing the World