Utterly Mad

   A shocking turn of events; There was a meteor strike off the coast of California, just off the border of mexico! Many have travelled there due to the strange happenings, beginning a small scale gold rush! Rumors are stemming that there's also fighting for the meteor between Mexico, The United States, and a currently unknown, foriegn Third Party.



   Clydesdale gave the bounty a once-over, "Awfully close, ain't he? Why don't you take him in ya'selves?"

   The aging man behind the desk gave a sigh, "Well, we couldn't technically prove it was him. The piece'a shit paid off the local law and we're under a strict 'employer only' under the US guv'ment."

   Clydesdale let out an unamused snort, "Right. Anything I should know?"

   "From what 'ah hear is that he's the paranoid sort. Expect him t'have a few other bastards wit'm." The old man responded, just as Clydesdale got up to leave. The old man sighed, "Happy huntin'."

   Soon after, Clydesdale was leading a deep auburn horse out of town. It had purple reins and saddle, with a hound’s tooth pattern sheet underneath. Slipping a foot into the stirrup, Clydesdale mounted his horse. However, someone seemed to be tailing him.

   


Meanwhile…

   Kalvin King stomped around the cellar of the old church as there was a half dozen men with axes chopping up the floorboards, “Gat dammit, y’all ain’t worth what I paid for! C’mon! It’s gotta be in here somewhere! Them pinkerton sumbitches are on ON MY FUCKIN’ TAIL! SO HURRY IT THE FUCK UP!” He screeched. Kalvin was a finely dressed man, in a pastel blue velvet three-piece suit and a silver particularly puffy puffed tie. He had a finely cut goatee with long, greased back hair.

   A ragged, older man’s eyes widened, “M-mistuh King?! This whatchur lookin’ fer?” He barked, holding up an object wrapped in yellowed butcher’s paper. Kalvin snatched the package from the ragged man’s grip, opening it up. Inside was a crudely crafted crucifix, made up of what looks like wrought iron, a stag’s horn forming the cross. King gave a chuckle as he ran a thumb across the rough, porous metal. “Hwueeheeeehee! Fantastic, YOU! Big man! Get this man a beer! He’s earned it!” He cackled, making a snapping point towards the largest of his workers.  “Fuck it! Everyone gets a beer!” He declared, as everyone let out a loud cheer and Kalvin passed out cash, ten dollar bills per person.
   
   The half dozen workers filed out of the cellar, and out of the church grounds. Most mounting on their respective horses or mules. Kalvin King kept cackling as he inspected the cross, “Hwueeheeheeeheee, Mister Pierce is f’sure gonna be happy ‘bout this…” He mumbled to himself, as he stepped out of the cellar and into the church itself. As he stepped out, he caught the eyes of Clydesdale, ‘The Golden Gunslinger.’

   “Howdy.” Clydesdale said simply, “How hard d’ya want this t’be?” He growled, a hand settled on his pistol, and the other adjusting the hardee hat on his head. Kalvin held up his hands, “Not hard at all, bounty hunter…” He said calmly, as there was a whistling of wind and displacing air.

But then, there was a loud whooshing sound. Clydesdale cleared leather, worked the hammer, and fired as soon as it got near. Kalvin’s suit grew red in his calve, as he let out a loud yelp of pain. “A-AAGH! What?! You have a ‘sta-’” He snarled, as Clydesdale gave him an equally confused look. “What did I hit?” The bounty hunter wondered aloud, unintentionally interrupting his quarry.

A grin curled on Kalvin’s lips, “You can’t see it?” He asked simply, as he began to cackle. “Cut him in fucking half! ‘Bellbottoms’!” He screeched, as the displacement of air was heading towards Clydesdale. From Kalvin’s perspective, he saw a bird-like humanoid, with a golden wattle below it’s neck with a similar pattern to King’s tie. It had blades on it’s wrists, that extend to the side made up of a metallic bone-like material.


However, Kalvin heard a faint voice and another humanoid parried [Bellbottoms]’s blow, It was a skinny humanoid with a camera for a head with a small weathervane on top, with a skeletal body made up of wrought iron and with two blades extending from it’s elbows replacing its hands. Inscribed on the head of the camera is ‘Luna malum ortu’.

‘Bad Moon Rising’.

   Kalvin’s blood ran cold, “I thought-!” He stammered, before digging around in his coat for his own pistol. “Fuck! [Bellbottoms]-! Help me!” King yelled out, as his ‘Humanoid’ recalled back and towards it’s master. Clydesdale worked the hammer again, and fired.

   If I can get my [Bellbottoms] to cut this bullet. Then I can fight- no- Maybe I should run…! Kalvin’s thoughts ran wild as his ‘Humanoid’ deflected the ‘Steel Ball’ into Kalvin’s side. He let out another yelp of pain, as the spin went through his body. “N-! N-NOOO!” King hollered, as the flesh twisted around the gushing wound.

   I can still win…! I just need to cut this bastard’s throat! Kalvin went on the offensive as Clydesdale fanned the hammer, emptying the cylinder. Three missed but planted itself into his hip, “Oh-ho-hoh!” Clydesdale chuckled, as [Bad Moon Rising] blocked [Bellbottoms]’s strike once again.

   Clydesdale smirked at the bloodied and bleeding Kalvin, “Are y’done yet?” He drawled, as he holstered his pistol. “Cuz if y’are. I think I can make it back t’town b’fore you bleed out.” Kalvin King spat out some blood, before drawing his own pistol. An ornate schofield, before he felt something inside of him move. The two bullets inside him tore out through his back, before curving back under his ribs, then through his back once more, before one made it’s home inside Kalvin’s collar bone, and the other inside his throat.

Kalvin Kornelius King, user of [Bellbottoms]
Bounty: Claimed

   Clydesdale hauled the southern gentleman’s corpse to his horse, before he heard a familiar voice. “Excuse me, sir! Are you okay?!” Mashad hollered, as Clydesdale let out a groan. “God fucking- Boy what part of I cannot help you do you not understand?” He growled as he stomped over to him.

   Mashad simply stared up at him with his milky white eyes, “If I didn’t help you we wouldn’t be talking right now!” He hollered right back. Clydesdale scowled at that, “The hell do you mean by that?” He barked at him.

   Mashad glared right back, "That ‘thing’ you shot and what was making that ‘wind’. It’s a ‘spirit’ of sorts-"

   “A ‘Stand’. Some have called it, it’s hard to explain-- I don’t get it either…” He admitted, as Clydesdale rolled his eyes. “Don’t really care, t’be fair.” He said plainly, as he mounted his horse. “I’m headin’ out, come get me after I turn this sonuva bitch in. Y’earned a cut.” He continued, settling the wrapped cross into his saddlebags as he rode back to town.