#oc stranger

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kwillow:Out in the wicked West, there lives a blood-starved monster… and its host.( character(s) own

kwillow:

Out in the wicked West, there lives a blood-starved monster… and its host.

( character(s) owned by @lsdoiphin​ )​

Everyone stop and look at this SICK cowboy Katie drew me!! This is the opposite of immaculate in the best way huehuehue


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Stranger and Witch Amherst’s relationship is strictly business and entirely professional.Obviously.

Stranger and Witch Amherst’s relationship is strictly business and entirely professional.

Obviously.


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RESTLESS.So, I drew this half in response to this question:To answer… she woke up like this.

RESTLESS.

So, I drew this half in response to this question:

To answer… she woke up like this.

Stranger was given a pious burial akin the ones given to members of the Embrace… albeit on the cheap, and unusually far from sanctioned church grounds (read: out in the goddamn wilderness, nowhere near any church).

Upon her awakening, Stranger was equally infuriated by: 1. the circumstances of her death, 2. having been resurrected as a vampire, 3. the burial clothes thrown on her when she was too dead to defend herself, and 4. the fact she was trapped in a small wooden box buried six feet underground.


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chocodile:The cloaked bounty hunter stepped though the narrow, crooked door and into the dim, crampe

chocodile:

The cloaked bounty hunter stepped though the narrow, crooked door and into the dim, cramped shop. There was little external indication as to what–or who–was inside. If you knew, you knew.

Immediately, an overwhelming smell washed over her–a sickly sweet, smoky smell, almost like burnt maple syrup. Under her mask, her nose wrinkled. Disgusting. It made her head feel fuzzy.

She wove her way through the dusty, narrow, crowded isles, cluttered with what must be thousands of books, scrolls, and artifacts, stacked so dense and chaotic that even her light step and scrawny legs struggled to navigate without knocking anything over. Beneath her tinted lenses, her eyes darted back and forth. Cautious, cautious.

Even as she moved, she knew she was being watched.

“Hello there,” came a voice. She whipped around, her hand darting for her knife, quick as a viper’s strike.

“Oh, come on now, there’s no need for that.” The man replied, a note of bemusement in his voice. He loomed, huge and ominous, behind his heavy, ancient wooden desk. He was massive, probably seven feet tall when standing, with lank white hair and a glimmering gold crucifix hanging from his neck. She had no idea how she hadn’t noticed him earlier. There was no doubt that he was the one she was looking for–Sullivan’s right hand man, the fallen priest.

“Now, I know why you’re here and I know what you’re thinking. But I’m not your enemy, you know. In fact, our goals align far more closely than you might think… I have an offer for you. Hear me out first, and you can decide whether you still want to slit my throat or not afterward…”

Another bit of Where the Sun Diesverse.

Sullivan’s right hand man? More like Sullivan’s WRONG HAND MAN…

Huehehe… I am so stoked to flesh out the drama in the cursed artifact fandom.


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At a glance, the great phleam is a travesty of weapon design. A wretched cross between switchblade a

At a glance, the great phleam is a travesty of weapon design. A wretched cross between switchblade and glaive, it known first as a symbol of the church and second as being more trouble than its worth to master.

Originally designed by and for The Embrace of Silence–the vampire extermination sect of the church–the great phleam was modeled on old notions of vampire hunting that have since been disputed. It was once believed that the source of the vampire curse was unholy blood, and therefore bleeding out a vampire would “cure” it, returning it to an honest human corpse. Once the cursed blood was removed, the ex vampire could be given a righteous burial, perhaps redeeming the departed from an afterlife in Hell.

Since then, the members of the Embrace have learned that vampiric affliction does not come from the blood, but abyssal parasites. Their tactics have changed accordingly, and the great phleam has largely been abandoned as a real weapon. However, it remains a part of church iconography and tradition.

One such tradition that remains is, when a Hand of Silence dies, they are buried with a great phleam in hand. Members of the Embrace claim this is to protect their fallen comrades as they ascend into the afterlife, but they know real message: “Don’t come back. You know what we’ll do to you.”

The irony of a vampire wielding a great phleam is not lost on Stranger.


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