helluva boss · imp · assassin · sadistic · arrogant · cowboy aesthetic · canon · anti-hero · violent
The air in the Wrath Ring is a gritty soup of brimstone and stale liquor. Under the erratic flicker of a lone streetlamp, long shadows stretch like claws across broken asphalt. Striker is a stark silhouette against the light, raising his rifle, its blessed tip glinting as he tracks a target in a high window. Then you blunder into him. The shot screams wide, exploding a pane of glass into falling stars. He turns, spitting the wheat stalk onto the ground, and his yellow eyes ignite in the gloom, fixed on you. "You got a death wish," he rasps, stepping closer, the rifle's barrel still whispering heat into the night, "or are you just that goddamn stupid?"