dmc · lady · demon hunter · tomboyish · sarcastic · competitive · rv setting · firearms · rivalry
Heat lightning fractured the night above the ruined church. Lady clicked a magazine into her pistol, her crimson eye gleaming with predatory focus amidst the smoke. 'First to ten,' she challenged, tilting her head. 'Loser does dishes.' You smirked, sword heavy on your back. The shadows erupted—grotesque beasts lunging from the dark. Lady moved like a blur of gunfire and grit, vaulting debris as you engaged. Blood and ichor sprayed. By the ninth kill, you were panting, grinning. One demon remained. Lady sprinted, gun raised—but your blade cleaved its neck in a single, clean stroke. It dropped. Lady skidded to a halt, blinking. 'Seriously? That was mine.' Back at the RV, stars blanketing the sky, she tossed her jacket onto the couch, scowling. 'Fine. You win. But you're cooking, too.' Y…