What good is just one wing?
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- 1-3 posts per day, One post per day, 1-3 posts per week, One post per week
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- Primarily Prefer Female
- Anime-esque, sci-fantasy, adventure, cyberpunk, high-fantasy, Victorian fantasy. comedic slice of life
Charlatans and lunatics alike are taking coin to strike down beasts in these times. Hell, even the damn things strike their own kind down if the pay is right. I guess the humane ones are just as greedy as the rest of us... But this is the way life goes in the west, in the wild fuckin' west. The outlaws plunder, the saloons serve some stiff liquor, the horses are wild, and money runs the whole town. So what is a gunslinger or a swordsman to do? The saloon girls sing, the riders make a ruckus with their stinkin' stallions, the damn occultists probably some poor bastard behind boarded windows, and the hunters... hunt.
Yes, hunters, the one group left to live the American dream. Amidst the damn Yōkai and Other, and the gangs killin' each other, the sheriffs can't keep everything in check. And who wants the cavalry gallivanting in and out as they please, y'know? So the people hire hunters to stomp out the real' bad ones. I mean... They're not all bad. Some of the spirits run shops nowadays. And some are just mischievous little fuckers. And the Eastern ones especially got some real' nice wares, too. But there's two kinds of monsters... the ones who work with us, and the ones who... Well, they're not even exactly animals, but they sure are beasts. Crawlin' in the woods, soaked in darkness in the humid swamps, buried in the sand of the desert... they'll come out, and then... you're dead.
Unless you know how to fight, that is.
But the people get the creeps when too many hunters are in town, too. Too much competition. Too many killers kill too much, as they say. Or sumthing like that. And it's not exactly uncommon nowadays. Technology catching up. Mechanical horses and scrap metal bikes mean more hunters with more mobility. And the monsters... they can smell that shit brewing, too. More rampagin'. More killin'. These are dark times, I tell ya.
But for all the shit we're dealing with, it's still the place to be. The gold rush is still alive, even after hundreds of years. The rogues make it a sport to get their face on some wanted posters, and see who can get the highest bounty. And no other country can say they've been where it all starded, right here, in the wild, wondrous west!
In 1589, the lowly tekiya Toshiuji came across a strange pot, given to him by a man with dark complexion, who spoke little and revealed even less. Despite Toshiuji’s suspicion, a gift was a gift, and the mystery surrounding the pot promised a good margin. However, even after a year, Toshiuji could not sell the pot. The distrust towards his kind aside, people feared the sheer presence of the pot, whose outside was adorned by a vacuous grin, its eyes squeezed and bulbous, and the pot’s gaze seemed to repel even the most daring of men. Toshiuji died as most tekiya did at the time; poor and forgotten. The pot changed ownership quite frequently after, until it eventually ended in the possession of the powerful daimyō Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who would soon see his power decline after its acquisition. One of his subordinates formed a small delegation. They were discreetly moved out of Japan, hidden from the public eye, and survived a journey across the world, setting foot onto the new world.
There, the delegation would bury the pot, deep into the red sand of what would eventually become the Mexican desert, hoping to bury its terrible powers with it. And while the Japanese delegation returned home, their acts would have disastrous effects on not just the now unified Japan, but the world at large. Just two years later, towards the end of the 17th century, the pot was found by a small gang of outlaws, who recklessly smashed it. Lavender haze emerged from the shattered remains, and swept across the land, endless and thick.
The unruly Americas would soon find themselves invaded by hordes emerging from the dark, smoked-filled corners of the world. Monsters from Eastern folklore ran amok across the already unstable region. Witch doctors and their occult circles, long striving for their mysticism to bear fruits, were reinvigorated by the demons crawling from within the mining shafts and darkened outbacks, and soon succeeded in summoning unholy, horned and multi-limbed beings that hid inside the ominous swamps and deserts, terrorizing the region.
The world, now in fear of what slumbered in the dark, changed.
Today, the wild west is very much alive, but… rogue. Saloons are sprawling with dubious patrons, some of which sport horns or extra eyes. Lesser Yokai and Other have made the American Frontier as well as the Mexican desert their home, while their monstrous brethren come crawling out of the swampland, terrorizing merchants and outlaws alike. Violence and death is ever present, and so is the business that promises to protect from these threats, be it officially appointed or for-hire.
Many aspects of human development has been shaped by the supernatural, with technology, architecture, and, to an extent, culture itself, stagnating in various ways. Loud, stuttery vehicles, reminiscent of fictional steam societies, roam about just as frequently as mechanically-enhanced horses (and whatever unholy creatures could be tamed into mounts). Outlaws, lawbringers, and mercenaries alike have had the same weaponry at their disposal for the past three centuries: blades, guns, and weaponized magic. Scrap metal-fixed huts and lavish saloons are everywhere. The rich folk built mansions in the Tuscany-like green outside the hustle and bustle of the cities.
Admittedly, many aspects have experienced change befitting of many hundreds of years, such as clothing, language, travel and society in general, but regardless, the world is stuck in a gun-slinging, occult-ridden loop of hell, and there seems nothing to rid our plane of it all. The world has been permeated by the mythical eastern spirits, and the subsequently unshackled apparitions of the west, and has stabilized itself into predictable patterns in only the last few decades.
People payed to dispose of brute monsters. With the emergence of otherworldly beings, people needed to defend against them, too. The Hunting business is lucrative but dangerous. Most commonly, Hunters are experts with either firearms or blunt or piercing weapons. Particularly, the Japanese katana varieties have become popular in dealing with Yōkai. Hunters often work in groups, but there are some daring (and often infamous) lone wolves.
Yōkai & Others:
Beings that have been unleashed upon the ominous haze plague in the 16th century. The general distinction is that Yōkai are the demons that have been brought over from the East, while Others are local entities, long thought to be nothing but the stuff of ghostly tales. Some example of Yōkai include murderous or thieving fox spirits and Oni demons, while some example of Others include the Wendigo or the Headless Riders.
To be expanded as needed.
Please feel free to ask questions as much as you like! Be it in here or in the discord. I'd be happy to answer anything that comes up.