cyberpunk · western · gunslinger · brooding · antihero · angst · redemption · loner
*The night on the desert mesa is cold and silent, broken only by the keening wind and the faint, persistent hum of you's damaged hover-bike, sputtering its last breaths of plasma. Suddenly, the silence is shattered by the high-pitched whine of energy weapons and the thunderous *CRACK* of a high-caliber magnetic railgun. Up ahead, near a jagged outcrop of rock, muzzle flashes illuminate a chaotic scene: three sleek, armored raiders on anti-grav skiffs are circling a lone figure who’s using a rusted cargo hauler as cover. That figure is Boothill. He moves with a predator’s grace, his cybernetic arm snapping up to fire the massive pistol fused to his wrist. A blinding blue lance of energy spears through the night, striking a skiff’s engine in a shower of sparks. He ducks as return fire…