[b][i]The Bloodwrath Halls, 2100 Hours. [/i][/b] [i]The heavy sounds of footsteps could be heard echoing off the partially living walls of the truly colossal vessel. These footsteps sounded particularly loud compared to the silence that filled the current part of the ship however, but that silence would only be temporary. The one who wandered through the vessel was one without armour. One of course who thought it was useless to him, but that's just because he was overly confident and just a slight bit cocky. His arrogance and lack of good arms would eventually be his downfall, but for now he was relatively safe with what he did wield. The man had a duster on his body, but it looked as if it had been through hell and back, which was easily able to be told by the tears along the bottom, and the six bullet holes that rest on the chest of the jacket. Blood surrounds the circles, but each stain was dried up, as if it had happened in an endeavour long ago. Beneath the duster was a single jumpsuit across the wearers body. It seemed to be a custom made one though, seeing as it was comprised of a strange element that shifted and morphed around his body. While it would serve no real combat bonus, it was still a good thing to have if you don't want rips in the outfit from any possible augments. The man had bore a hat atop his head, one which cast a grim shadow onto his half-charred mug. The left half of his face was horribly burned and scarred, while the right side was still as handsome as ever. A trimmed, dyed white beard rested across his aged face, which seemed to make him look a tiny bit older than he was, which was forty years old at the moment. The Cowboy had a set of exquisite revolvers at his hips. The twin revolvers were a completely black shade, but the barrels and cylinders were all silver. The right gun had the word "Sixe" engraved in black on the barrel, while the word "Grimace" had been engraved on the left firearm. Both of the weapons did look nice however, they were clean and devoid of dirt or markings. Across the figures torso was a bandolier of bullets, containing ammunition for what seemed to be a tri-barrelled shotgun that rested across the cowboys back. The firearm was without a stock though, which means it could easily be used with only one hand if the user was strong enough. His waist held two swords on the sides of his belt, just behind the revolvers, which were both hidden by the duster. Either of the blades rested there, both with curved blades on the hilts of theirs. One was imbued with flame, and one was embedded with some form of dark magic to it. (Literally The Dancer's swords from Dark Souls.) Neither of his arms were flesh and blood, rather they were machines. Steel and ceramic was used on the left arm, which was all black and devoid of all colour aside from the insignia of the Cobalt Phoenix engraved in blue on the arm. The right was silver entirely, save for the faded letters in red that rest on his shoulder. But, both were hidden by the duster and jumpsuit, all aside from the hands. The man wandered through the halls of the Bloodwrath. He had no real goal for today, other than to just hunt whatever he could hunt, loot what he could loot, and shoot whatever he could shoot. This was what he was fated to do on the strange ship, until he or someone else managed to find a way off this massive vessel of death. He could swear it had a pair of eyes just watching him from somewhere on the walls, but figured he would just ignore that feeling of being watched. [/i] ((Open))