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dailyadventureprompts · 10 months

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Planescape: The Inclementus Convolution

It is simple as hells go, there is the snow, the walls, and the shape of things that will haunt you for the rest of your days

It appears first as a troubling dream, endless anxious wanderings through a frigid and featureless maze. While most shrug off these visions others sink into a deep and restless malady, possessed by recurring feelings of being cold and lost. For some the dreams deepen, overtaking their waking life until they sink into an unwakung torpor, others are compelled to walk: seeking out winding alleys or wintry landscapes in the hope of finding a way OUT of the maze, only to find themselves transported to it bodily.

Occult scholars of dream and dimension have named this phenomenon the Inclementus Convolution, and conjectures on its purpose and original architects feature in many a forbidden tome. What these dabblers have failed to understand is that the convolution is not a thing of artifice but part of a great unknowable entity, which uses the maze to filter-feed from the multiverse the way a great whale uses baleen to trawl the sea. While the exact nature of this entity will be discussed below the cut, whats far more interesting is how the appearance of this dream labyrinth affects the lives of others.

A series of disappearances has the party tracing the city’s backstreets tracking rumours of a slaver gang or some kind of monstrous presence. Imagine their surprise when they not only find one of the lost individuals wandering in fevered confusion, standing before an alley from which unseasonable snow billows.

Nearly swept up in the convolution as a child, a minor noble has bent the wealth of her station towards determining the meaning of that traumatic vision, becoming a notable patron for adventurers as she sends them off to explore various ruins or gather scraps of potentially relevant lore. The party are hired by her for a mission, but weeks later when they return from their delve they find that her estate has fallen prey to an otherworldly influence. They’ll need to brave the twisting halls of her manorhome and the hedgemazes that sprawl across the grounds if they want to get paid, and maybe rescue their hapless benefactor in the process.

A fairly simple bounty mission to track down an occultist hiding in the mountains and bring him back alive quickly goes out of control after he opens a portal to the convolution inside his cell, transforming the surrounding guard barracks and its prisons into an eacheresque tangle backing onto an eldritch landscape. With other prisoners looking desperately to escape and panicking guards looking to arrest everyone they don’t recognize, will the party be able to escape before the whole structure is subsumed into nightmare?

The entity at the centre of the maze is seldom seen by those lost with the expanse as the upper reaches of the towering walls are obscured by an omnipresent cloud cover. As such no earthly name has been given to it, as the miles long tendrils it sends skulking through the corners are often confused for individual lifeforms which some call. It is not malicious, nor is it strictly sentient, it is simply a lifeform doing what it has always done to survive, nevermind that it involves pinching beings from across the cosmos. Creatures that die within the convolution desiccate, their bodies becoming dried out husks as the moisture within them is absorbed by the surrounding stone to feed the entity above and later join with the ever present snow, the built up condensation from innumerable victims across time.

Future Adventures:

Lost souls from many worlds have left marks on the walls of the convolution, pleas for help, attempts to map a way out, epitaphs and memorials from those that knew their end was near. One of these happened to be a sage with secret knowledge most relevant to the party's ongoing struggles, meaning if that they want to find it for themselves they're not only going to have to find their way into and through the labyrinth, but also Ariadne their way back out after finding and deciphering the message he left.

Though very little can survive long in the endless halls, there are some interdimensional oddities that have managed to persist around the fringes, carried from one world to the next as the Inclementus seeks out new victims.

The most fearful of these passengers are a remnants of an alien empire known as the Tssol who were led into the convolution when their god-prince decided to lead his people into the otherworld following a "holy vision" (and the encouragement by his less theisticly inclined siblings looking to clear a path to the throne). The survivors of this royal expedition have endured for centuries by by carving their city into the oldest walls of the labrynth, where the entity's fleshy stalks merge with the endless walls. They worship it, subsisting from the meat sloughed off as it grows and using the remains to feed fungal farms, counting themselves blessed for following the god-prince's vision. Those that stumble into the maze are of particular interest to them, as individuals affected by Inclementus influence are capable of wandering in and out of the aberrant realm allowing the Tssol warriors to ride out and launch raids on other worlds.

#dnd #d&d #mid level #low level #dungeon #lovecraftian #abberations #city #noble #planescape #hell #bounty #bounty hunting #occult #dungeons and dragons #ttprg #pathfinder #horror #spooky #eldritch

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regwishesshehadmagic · 7 months

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#bounty hunting #arthur lives au #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #sadie adler #rdr2 photomode #rdr2 photography #virtual photography #reg wishes she had magic

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runescratch · 1 year

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Hunt.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #reaper #avatar #aristide gauvain #oc #still loved painting this piece #these two love hunting together #voidsent #bounty hunting #you name it #big monsters that need taken care of #yeah they do that too

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bounty-hunter-wolfe · 1 year

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We have been asked by the Doctor to write down some things we like about our human(s) and Gene. So we will do this

-the human is extremely particular about its clothes and how they are washed. He does not like the “dryer sheets” that the other human uses, despite the nice scent it has.

-the other human often brings us a cup of liquid and tells us to try it. The joke being that the drink is too strongly flavored or sour for us to enjoy- this is extremely funny for everyone involved , despite us having a preference for more watered down beverages.

-Gene does not pick up after himself, so when he is too messy the humans will spritz him with water to make him clean up. It works very well

-the “cats” are my favorite creatures in the house. The fat one likes us and will seek us out to rub his face. His teeth stuck out a little and we like that very much. The small one is fast and likes to make noise at us. Sometimes it plays with us

#arg #wolfe #bounty hunting #void #tumblr arg #new arg #humans #humans are weird

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sinisterexaggerator · 7 months

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How does Cad Bane feel about marriage and would he want to tie the knot if he fell in love very much?

Hmm, I see Cad Bane as not anti-marriage, but not really into it, either.

IMO, he's a loner. He works alone, travels alone, but also will take on the occasional job that requires more than one hunter to accomplish. Usually he's the one in charge.

Of course, all he really needs in the form of companionship is Todo, or at least that is what he tells himself.

Also, I *do* see Cad Bane as possessive. He may lay claim to you, state that you're his, make it damn clear you aren't to talk to any other gents/ladies, and that he won't sit idly by and allow his partner to be a flirt. Jealousy is one emotion he experiences, and quite quickly and easily under the right circumstances.

I do think he can fall hard as well, though he may keep most of his thoughts to himself unless the stars and planets align in just the right way for him to confess his feelings. He is more likely to show it by acts of service, or small gestures versus declaring his undying love. It may take something catastrophic to get him to open up, like on your death bed, per se.

As far as tying the knot, in the back of his mind he knows his business is a dangerous one. I don't assume he wants to put a person he cares about in any danger if he can help it. He would most likely keep his special someone a secret, as that means there is less of a chance of his enemies finding them.

He knows he could die. He's not too keen on leaving a widow behind. Plus, he's sort of selfish and driven by credits. Depending on the situation, he may also see marriage as a burden, most likely with some trollop after his hard-earned money in the case of a divorce.

Overall, my answer is no ... Maybe, MAYBE once he "retires" from the biz he would think about settling down, but we all know Bane most likely worked until he "died."

#Cad Bane #Ask #Star Wars #Bounty Hunting #TCW #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #BOBF #Book of Boba Fett

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sytortuga · 7 months

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Deafening silence

General summary: Pre-canon. Din goes to the Wild Space on a mission to capture a Kaleesh bounty. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't expect the mission to have permanent consequences on his life.

Warnings: poisoning, general violence, animal attack, animal injury, depictions of sickness, hallucinations, permanent nerve damage, permanent consequences on way of life. Some warnings are omitted to avoid spoilers. Proceed with care if any of the above are triggering subjects.

Author's notes: I'm so excited to contribute to this @ailesswhumptober!!! This work wouldn't have never happened without the talented @itzagoodthing, who's been the brainstorming partner in crime: contributed with many ideas, did tons of editing and proof reading. It has been sooooo much fun!!! I'm very grateful 🤩

This will be a 3 chapter fic. Upcoming chapters will come soon! Posted here, but you can also read it in AO3 if you prefer.

Happy whumptober 2023 everybody!

Chapter 1/3: The Bounty

Din woke up with a start. For a second he couldn’t figure out where he was. It was surely not the Crest. He closed his eyes, listening to the noises around him: the Covert, its members surely starting along with their day. The sound of heavy steps up and down the hallway leading to his quarters. That was certainly what had woken him up. He felt tired, but forced his eyes open. With the strong Imperial presence in the sector, the decision of going out one at a time needed to be taken, he knew it, and accepted it. The knowledge of their numbers needed to be concealed, hidden from the enemy to protect their covert’s whereabouts. But under such circumstances, the task of being beroya, the tribe’s provider, was starting to weigh and to take a toll on him.

Physically he felt exhausted. Their numbers were slowly growing, often taking in foundlings, or, more rarely, taking in the remaining members of other tribes that had been destroyed by Imperials in the effort of completing the Mandalorian Purge. They counted on him to gain enough credits to supply for the needs of the Tribe. But the toll was more than physical. Being almost continuously away from the Covert, his nearly complete absence to the daily activities and interactions with the other members of his Tribe, spending almost all his time alone in the Crest, started to take a toll also on his soul. He knew all this, but had promised himself not to dwell on it. Being the Hunter was his mission. He would stand up to his station.

Finding the strength to get himself up from his cot, Din put on his armor and pulled aside the curtain separating his quarters from what was now a busy Covert. He navigated the network of corridors. Sewers. He hated that they had been pushed to hide in the sewers. Everyone hated it but they all implicitly trusted that better times would come.

Moving towards the exit, Din crossed several other Mandalorians, who just watched him pass. None greeted him, so he simply acknowledged their presence and continued his stoic walk through the corridors. He was clearly spending too much time away. A deep sensation of being a foreigner in his own Covert made him quicken his pace. He exited behind Nevarro’s market stands, which were just starting to exhibit their goods, and made it to his ship.

Settling himself in the cockpit, he set up the coordinates to Nirauan. He didn’t need to check the three bounty pucks he had picked up from Karga the night before upon delivery of the previous assets. He didn’t think twice about getting the three highest bounties on the table. Unsurprisingly, they were all in the Wild Space Territories. And the high price was not for no reason: those were dangerous and distant worlds on which not much information was available. And on top of that, the fuel was very expensive these days. But desperate times made him take high stake bounties, so Nirauan, and the Kaleesh mercenary who he was after, was set to be his first mission.

As it had become a habit, Din spent his time in hyperspace preparing his gear and tuning his armor. Upon arrival to the Grandilis sector he quickly set course to the second of the worlds composing the Nirauan system. This was the first time he was in Nirauan, and the vibrant green cover of the planet struck him. Even if he risked being detected, he made a couple of passes around the last known location of the asset. Din figured it would be difficult to move through the dense forest and thus needed to pinpoint the best area to look for the asset. He landed several klicks away as the jungle-like environment covered most of the surface of the planet. The puck indicated the bounty was probably hiding in a partially destroyed fortress, where he detected numerous life forms.

“Calvrilhy pirates,” Din thought. If his information was correct, they took over the ruins of the fortress when it was destroyed by Rebels.

After securing the Crest, Din followed the puck's coordinates. Crossing the jungle he arrived at the base of the fortress. He knelt behind a large tree and got out his amban rifle. Through the scope, he scouted the compound. Several pirates were keeping guard at strategic posts, probably alerted by his survey of the planet. He presumed many more should be inside. He couldn't possibly take on all of them.

"This mission is going to be worth every single credit," he thought to himself, and decided to wait for the cover of night to infiltrate and search for his bounty inside.

Din couldn't believe his luck when, upon what looked like a shift change, a Kaleesh took over the easternmost post. The puck confirmed it. It was his asset.

Covertly, he approached the nearest wall and, after firing his grappling hook, started climbing the wall. Din had nearly reached the top when he saw that his asset had turned his back to him. Jumping to the top of the wall, Din’s movements were swift as he put the Kaleesh in a headlocked and pressed his blaster to the alien's forehead.

"Don't make a sound," Din whispered in the man's ear.

Shocked, the bounty remained quiet for a couple of seconds before he started struggling against Din's hold.

"You'll never get into the compound," the bounty said.

"Don't need to; I already have what I want," he whispered back.

"I won't come with you, bounty hunter."

"I can bring you in warm… or I can bring you in cold. Prize won't change. Your choice".

Din pinned the man against a nearby wall, and cuffed his hands to his back. Looking around to make sure his actions had not alerted anyone, he unrolled his whipcord. After securing the hook to the outer wall, he used the other end to tie the man’s ankles together.

"Wait", the man said, "what the hell are you going to…"

He didn't have time to say anything else. With one strong movement the Mandalorian shoved him over the edge of the fortress. The man screamed all the way down. The line stopped the quarry barely a meter above the ground. The Mandalorian quickly climbed down the line. He needed to act fast. The bounty’s screams had alerted the rest of the men guarding the compound. When reaching the ground, he unhooked the man from the line and stored away his gear.

Din pushed the Kaleesh towards the jungle in the direction of the Crest. There was movement starting to build behind them. The beginning of a searching party, he presumed.

Remaining focused, the Mandalorian kept directing the bounty towards his ship when heard a whistling sound coming from the depths of the jungle. His HUD didn’t give any signs of humanoid presence, and he discarded the possibility of a threat. Din increased his pace nevertheless. That was until the bounty gave him a wicked smile before whistling back in the same direction. Picking up on a certain cadence in the man’s whistling put the Mandalorian on high alert. He pressed the end of his blaster to the bounty's back and encouraged the man forward.

"Enough with the noise," Din threatened.

As they continued towards the ship, the bounty suddenly looked into the shadows and whistled once again.

"I said, enough!"

But the Mandalorian barely had the time to finish his word when, from between the trees, stepped out a small globulous green creature. Standing on two long and thin legs, its eight eyes stared directly at Din. It growled menacingly as it slowly approached Din.

In a rush of adrenaline, the Mandalorian shot the creature, which caused no apparent harm, the blasts bouncing off the animal’s skin. Clearly aggravated, it quickenedits approach on Din. Through the corner of his eye, the Mandalorian saw that the Kaleesh was trying to flee using the creature's attack as distraction, but Din shot him in one leg, making him fall with a loud thud to the ground. At the same time, he hit the ground himself, pushed by the blunt force of the animal jumping on him.

Pinned by the green creature, Din managed to turn around and use his vambraces to protect himself from its large teeth. Saliva formed in the mouth of the animal. The instant it hit the Mandalorian’s flight suit, the scent of burned fabric hit him, followed by an intense pain as the acidic fluids reached his skin. The Mandalorian found himself screaming with pain at the same time as the animal sank its large claws in his arm to prevent Din from escaping. Din activated his whistling birds, and half a dozen of projectiles hit the green animal.

At first, the animal seemed to reduce his pressure on him, and Din used the opportunity to roll away from the creature. Seeing it was still alive, with no apparent intention of retreating, the Mandalorian attacked it again, now with his vibroblade in hand, and stabbed it repeatedly. But breaking the creature’s skin caused it to release a gas that took Din by surprise.

Having an extremely strong smell to it, Din instinctively activated the seal in his helmet, not before breathing a small amount of the gas. With the creature now immobile on the ground, Din got back on his feet, panting. He allowed himself a few seconds to evaluate his status, what hurt, and if any injury required immediate attention. He got distracted by the noise of other people in the jungle. The search party was getting near. They needed to move.

He went back to the Kaleesh, who was lying on his back and smiling cockily.

"You got a good dose of my Divvik's gas back there. How are you feeling?" the Kaleesh asked.

"Stand up and move," was Din's only response, but the man didn't make any effort to stand.

The Mandalorian's patience now clearly exhausted, Din bent and grabbed the man's flighsuit collar forcing him to stand and, despite the man’s limp, pushed him again in the direction of the Crest. Din felt his limbs getting heavier, pain and exhaustion suddenly invading. He thought that to be weird, since normally adrenaline should be keeping him in working condition for some time longer. But he knew they needed to get off-world, and fast. His mission was close to being completed, but Din felt like he could fall asleep right there on his feet. By the time he could see the Crest between the trees, his vision started getting blurry. Having his goal in sight motivated him to push harder despite feeling weaker with each step. The Kaleesh noticed how he was struggling and was now outwardly laughing.

"You won't make it out of this planet alive," the bounty said.

The Mandalorian stopped for a minute and searched in his belt. Bringing out a stimshot, he thrusted the syringe into his thigh and emptied its contents, hoping that it would help him with the last dozens of meters and the take-off. Without waiting for the effect of the shot to set in, he immediately pocketed the syringe and restarted the painful task of pushing his asset to the Crest.

After what seemed like an eternity to Din, they reached the ship. He pushed the bounty into the hold, making him hit the ground. With the asset’s hands still bound behind his back, the Mandalorian quickly bound his feet as well before he tumbled to reach the ladder leading to the cockpit. It took a lot of his remaining strength to climb up but he made it and dropped himself into the pilot's chair. He could notice himself starting to feel confused. He needed to start the take-off sequence, a process which he had internalized so deeply with his years of service to the point of it being automatic. But at that very moment he realized he couldn’t remember if the ion flux stabilizers needed to be activated before the main engine pre-heating and ignition command. Panicking, he started to hyperventilate. He recognized he was losing control, there was no way he'd ever forget the take off sequence which was simply muscle memory to him by that point. There was something really going on.

"Keep it together, Djarin," he whispered to himself.

Din closed his eyes and breathed calmly and deeply. He needed to regain control of his emotions. Focusing, he went through the sequence again, the engines came online as he saw the pirate search party coming out of the woods on his starboard side. Blaster fire rebounded off the Crest's hull as Din pulled the ship up, engaged the thrusters, and set course towards the atmosphere.

He felt himself dozing off. His head was pounding, and his ears rang to the point of almost not being capable of hearing the usual and reassuring humming of his ships engines. The biosensors integrated in his armor told him he was starting to be bradycardic and hypotensive. He input the coordinates back to Nevarro on his navicomputer. There was one thing he clearly knew at this point: unless the effects of whatever product he inhaled back on Nirauan miraculously got out of his system, he wouldn’t be able to work the other two bounties he was set to capture in the Wild Space Territories.

Once he hit hyperspace, he dragged himself down to the cargo hold. The Bounty was now sitting against one of the walls. He looked at Din as he stumbled down the ladder.

"How are you feeling?" the Bounty asked with a grin. "I'll admit that I'm impressed. With the amount of toxin you got, I would have bet you'd be dead by now and I would be the happy owner of a… Razor Crest is it?" He said, looking around as if admiring a new acquisition.

"Get up," the Mandalorian ordered.

Grinning, the Kaleesh looked slowly up to Din with a defiant look, with no intention of moving.

"I said, UP!" Din was screaming now. He was tired, needed to tend to himself, and this bounty was just determined to test the limits of his patience.

Upon seeing no reaction from his bounty, he grabbed him by the collar of his flight suit and forced him once more to stand up. Making the Kaleesh take a couple of steps backwards, he set the man in the carbon-freezing chamber.

"No! NO! WAIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" The man screamed, realizing what was about to happen.

The man, despite being bound from hands and feet, fought as hard as he could to get out of the Mandalorian's hold. Din continued to shuffle through the chamber’s controls as he pushed the man against the block. He was barely doing this by touch, his sight was getting blurrier, he could barely discern the buttons if it weren't for the colors flashing.

The man continued fighting, trying to get away from the carbonite chamber. Seeing the little effect this was having, he violently headbutted the Mandalorian. Despite being protected by the Beskar, the action didn't help the Mandalorian's pounding headache.

"YOU CAN'T PUT ME IN CARBONITE!"

With all the ringing in Din's ears he wouldn't have heard the Bounty if it wasn't for how loud he was screaming. Finally losing patience, Din grabbed the man by his neck, and looking straight into the man's eyes from behind his visor, he whispered coldly, "Watch me".

"YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE AND I WILL BE TRAPPED IN HERE, IN A SHIP ADRIFT IN SPACE, FOREVER."

Din punched the final button that activated the chamber and the bounty was finally frozen.

Once the Carbonite cloud started clearing and the chamber stopped its hissing, the gravity of the situation hit Din full force. He stumbled backwards until hitting the wall of the cargo hold and let himself slide down to a sitting position. His ears were ringing so hard it made him dizzy and nauseous. His left arm and leg started to feel numb. Letting his head rest on his knees he forced his foggy mind to reason and evaluate his situation: the bounty mentioned the name of the creature that had attacked him, but feeling increasingly confused, made it difficult to recall the name. One thing he was sure of, is that he hadn't seen or heard of it before. He also recalled the bounty talking about a toxic gas. Nerve toxin, Din reasoned based on his symptoms. He knew he could treat nerve toxins. But how?

The task of concentrating was getting harder. Growling in frustration, Din told himself to think. He knew his trade often worked with a neurotoxic species. What was it? He knew he carried treatment against their stings. Nasty little bugs. What was their name? He couldn't recall.

Not important, Din thought. Now, treatment. He knew he carried something against their stings when he worked the Outer Rim and the Wild Space. Where would he keep the shots? Time was important now, he knew this in the back of his head. Where. Concentrate on the where. The bunk. He kept his med kit in his bunk.

Get to the bunk. The idea turned around in his head, over and over again. Medkit, that was his goal. It was getting increasingly difficult to think. Was this toxin affecting him that fast? Or how long had he actually been sitting there? He tried to make his body move, get up from the ground. His left side wouldn't cooperate enough for him to stand up. Rolling himself onto his right side, he managed getting to his knees and then achieved a resemblance of verticality. Dragging his left side he aimed at getting to his bunk, supporting himself on the crates stowed on the side of the hold.

Din was now sweating profusely. The stimshot's effects were wearing out, he felt the backlash of the effects of whatever he had inhaled. Fumbling with his bunk's control panel, he opened the door and reached for his medkit, emptying its contents on the cot. For a moment, he couldn't recall what he was looking for. He continued ruffling the contents of his medkit. Shots. He was looking for a shot. Of what? He found a couple of stimshots. No, that wasn't it. He wasn't sure he knew anymore what he was looking for. He kept looking through the contents of the kit until he found a small box with vials labeled "Atropine - Kouhuns".

Kouhuns, yes. That's what the neurotoxic bugs were called. If he had a chance at surviving whatever he had inhaled, this was it. He fumbled to load a syringe with the contents of one of the vials, struggling to help himself with his barely working left hand. Din clumsily removed his left vambrace. He expected a loud noise to come from when it hit the ground, but never heard it with the overwhelming ringing of his ears. He rolled up the sleeve of his flight suit and tried injecting the counteragent intravenously without any success.

Frustrated, Din sat back and took a deep breath. He blinked hard several times, trying to clear his vision and then tried one more time. Sure that he had gotten it right that time, he injected the atropine. He never saw the syringe fall from his hand. He never felt it when he hit the ground.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #paz Vizsla #young din djarin #young paz vizsla #the armorer #bounty hunting #injury #whump #ailesswhumptober2023 #prompt 1 #day 1: poisson

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bohemian-rhapsody-in-blue · 10 months

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Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 1: Midnight

Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! I’ll be writing fics based on their July 30-Day Challenge all this month (if I can!); I’ll also be posting them to AO3 here!

Fittingly, I wrote most of this around/past midnight—my sleep schedule is so messed up these days that I’m most productive between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM, so that’s probably when I’ll be getting most of these stories posted. So if you see me posting, for instance, my fic for Day 1 on what’s technically July 2, well…that’s what I have to say for myself.

This fic was also (minorly) influenced by @graysongraysoff’s first fic for Beboptober 2020, “3, 2, 1…Let’s Jam!”

Also, enjoy this rejected first line: “There are many benefits to being a marine biologist bounty hunter….”

As the clock ticked past midnight, Spike and Jet sat on neighboring barstools, keeping a sharp lookout for the bounty head who was rumored to pass through this bar tonight—or from a message from Faye indicating that the bounty head had visited the bar where she was stationed, instead. There had been no sign of the guy for a while, and the only messages from Faye just consisted of her complaints of boredom. (The bar was on a relatively remote asteroid, after all.) The anticipation and the silence—other than the occasional attempt at conversation from Jet or the crack of peanut shells (no drinks for them tonight, or at least minimal drinks; they needed to focus)—gave Spike a lot of time to think about the reasons he’d become a bounty hunter in the first place. The reasons he’d chosen this offbeat, freelance profession to fill this part of his life—such as it was.

Sure, the paychecks were irregular, often scanty, and—more often than the crew would like—nonexistent. And he wasn’t one to pretend that the money didn’t matter, that he was purely in the bounty-hunting business for the love of the job or whatever. And sure, one could go on and on about catching bad guys, keeping them off the streets, bringing justice to the world—and Spike supposed those were advantages too, though he preferred to leave the philosophizing to Jet. And they definitely weren’t the reason he’d picked up the work. Anyway, on nights like these—when he and Jet and Faye were in their element, and he was sure a fat stack of Woolongs was on their way—Spike preferred to focus on the more practical benefits of the job.

Spike knew he’d chafe in some corporate 9-to-5 job, or in retail or customer service, or in any position with set hours and fake smiles and a supervisor breathing down his neck. He’d struggle and squirm as if wearing an ill-fitting jacket. And he couldn’t imagine having to say things like “actionable items” or “let’s circle back” with a straight face. He often griped and complained about the woes of bounty hunting, but he was feeling unusually optimistic tonight, and he had to admit, the freedom that this job afforded him suited him perfectly.

Take the work hours, for instance. Twelve A.M. and he was wide awake, raring for a catch; in twelve hours he’d probably be passed out on the Bebop’s couch. And the job was so unpredictable that in another twelve hours, he might still be asleep. This was the kind of schedule that suited him; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And to be honest, midnight wasn’t a bad time to be up and working. The sky outside the bar was pitch-black, but the streets hummed with life. As Spike looked around, he saw flickering neon signs, sporadic streetlights, headlights of cars and spacecrafts, and the occasional tiny flame of a lighter filling the darkness. And while he and Jet were quiet, the bar was replete with lively conversation, raucous laughter, and the sounds of games of pool, foosball, and darts, often accompanied by wild cheering. These were technically Spike’s work hours. This bar was sort of his office. The gun resting securely at his side served as his office supplies. What boring corporate job would let him say that?

For another thing, he didn’t have to deal with any stupid dress codes; he never had to memorize the meanings of words like “business casual” or wear the same polo shirt with the same embroidered logo of the same megacorporation as everyone else. He did business dressed up in a suit and tie because he wanted to, and, in his opinion, it looked stylish as hell. (As bonuses, it also allowed him a lot of freedom of movement and was very comfortable, as was evident from the few times Ed had stolen and wrapped herself in it, gleefully flapping the ends of the sleeves.)

Perhaps the best aspect of the job, though, was that every day of it was different. It brought the Bebop crew in contact with such a wide variety of criminals and other strange characters—from senile old chessmasters, to vindictive bombers using teddy bears as their weapons, to homicidal genetically-engineered clowns—that no two people they encountered were ever the same. And if Spike decided a bounty head was too boring, or too much of a small fry, he didn’t have a boss forcing him to take it. (More often, he had an empty bank account and a disapproving look from Jet forcing him to take it—but that was neither here nor there.) Also, the work took Spike and his crewmates pretty much everywhere in the Solar System. He was constantly on the move, never staying in any one place for long. It suited his restless spirit perfectly—and made sure that nothing, or no one, from his past would be able to catch up to him.

“Spike.” Jet’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That’s the guy.”

Spike glanced over to where Jet was gesturing, and sure enough, the muscular, grizzled man entering the bar, with a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his trenchcoat, matched the description in the criminal records and the picture on Big Shot exactly.

With a grin, Spike rested his hand on his own gun. “Let’s get him.”

Sometimes, when he was in a more brooding mood than tonight, he’d reflect on how his life never felt real. How it felt more like a constant dream he could never wake up from. The ephemeral, meandering nature of bounty-hunting, with its strange and amorphous structure, felt dreamlike sometimes, too. And for someone on the outskirts of society, seeking autonomy—well, he guessed that applied to his whole group of crewmates, in one way or another—it was perfect. As much as he liked to complain about the job, it fit him better than he’d like to admit.

And here he was now, in the dead of night in a random bar on an even more random asteroid, easily dodging the bounty head’s blows and landing his own—without making too much of a scene that attracted the rest of the bar. The fight was over quickly enough that the man didn’t even need to pull out his gun. Just the way Spike liked it. As he threw the final punch that rendered the man unconscious and Jet tied him up, he was completely comfortable. Relaxed. In his element.

There were worse ways to spend a dream.

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sentanixiv · 1 year

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Always Something [AO3] [T] John and Arthur debate whether it was worth it, killing one bounty to secure three others. Cost, cause, and consequence; and then a hint of Morston, because this is me we’re talking about. Inspired by bounty hunting in RDO, wherein we tried real hard to lasso that fourth bounty. Turns out the bullet is mightier than the rope.

Dust settles, blood congeals, and the world carries on. There’s no care to the lives and losses of its denizens, nor tribute to the sacrifices made to make ends meet. Little more than the tip of a hat, nary a ‘thank you, sir’ before the next demand sweeps away the success of the last.

Toil and tedium that ain’t unfamiliar, the days long and the work unending when there’re nearer twenty mouths needing feeding. That ain’t cheap and might be the reality of it’s why Arthur huffs out a breath as he counts the bills from this nobody town’s sheriff. Payout for turning in four of the county’s more notorious criminals, but ain’t quite the windfall he’d aimed for when riding out.

John sits astride his mare, rubbing blood from his gloves to smear on his pants as he nods towards the meagre jail building. “Three outta four ain’t bad,” he remarks. Pulls his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow, the day’s heat heavy on them after three hours of hard riding, running, and shooting – to the lessening of their reward.

“Four outta four’s better,” Arthur drawls. He nods towards the rear of the building, where a pair of boots lie – owner still attached, lifeless from the bullet through his chest. Dead costs ‘em on bounties, always has.

Silence is golden, and lasts about four beats before John sighs. “It’s always something with you,” he mutters with a shake of his head.

Arthur tucks the bundle of bills into his satchel, resettles his weight in the saddle, and looks out past the town’s boundaries. “I ain’t the one what got trigger happy and killed the fourth,” he replies easily, irritation fraying the worn patchwork of his patience.

“He was runnin’, what else was I s’pposed to do?”

“You got this thing, John. It’s called a rope and y’use it to hogtie ‘em so’s we can bring them in alive.”

The way Arthur says it, slow and simple like John is, well, slow and simple? Grates his nerves and shortens his temper. “I weren’t leaving you to run ‘im down and mess with that,” he grumbles, brushing uselessly at the blood on his pant leg.

“I had it handled.”

“You had shit”!

The accusation comes with an angry gesture to the blood on Arthur’s sleeve, where two separate bullets carved a line into his jacket, shirt, and through his skin. He flexes that hand and it moves, proof that this wound won’t kill him any more than the dozens before it have. “They was hardly hittin’ me,” he replies, flat. His tone brokers no argument.

Oh, but of course John Marston does broker one, fool as he is determined to be. “There were five guys, three of ‘em bounties!” he snaps, agitated. “You was about to become holier than the damn church if I ain’t been there to cover you.”

“I had it handled, Marston!”

Arthur reins his horse about, reaches over to haul John with a fistful of his shirt, leaves the man balanced precarious between his mount, Arthur’s hand, and the ground. “You ain’t so good with doin’ what yer told,” he snarls, them threads of patience snapped. “I told you to run that feller down and now we got shorted ten damn dollars because you wanted to play hero!”

“Ten dollars don’t mean nothing if yer dead!”

Something in them words kills Arthur’s anger, silences him, and loosens his hold long enough that John pushes back from him, pulls himself back centre in the saddle. Tugs down his shirt to smooth it, muttering under his breath. “Yer damn stupid some days, Morgan.”

Arthur catches his senses where they was scattered to the winds, fingers flexing in the emptied space here he’d dragged John. Realizes it and drops his hand with a scowl, pulls his hat down low. The way his head tucks, the way it pulls shadows over his face, says there ain’t more worth talking ‘bout here if John values his life.

John considers it, thinks real long, then lets out a sigh and starts down the main road. “C’mon, sunshine,” he calls back when Arthur doesn’t move to follow. “I’ll buy you a drink, maybe it’ll rinse off that sour look.”

#kichi writes #rdr2 #john marston #arthur morgan #morston #if you want to read it that way #i do lol #bounty hunting

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noblesixofhalo · 2 years

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Bounty Hunting in the Bebop Universe

Since my previous post on speculating on Ed's ethnic background or the possibility of her being part Turkish or from the Levant region was kind of a mess and I wasn't satisfied overall with what I posted, I thought of giving myself another try on something less controversial or less confusing/sketchy, bounty hunting in Cowboy Bebop or the role of bounty hunting and how it may have came about.

It is interesting how a Japanese anime from the 1990s centers around bounty hunting in space in the 2070s, a concept and profession that is banned in Japan along with most of the world with the exception of the United States and the Philippines.

While bounty hunting is mostly known in the United States especially in the advent of the Wild West in the 1800s until the 1910s, bounty hunting itself is not a new practice from history. Bounty hunting originated in England in the Middle Ages. Defendants would offer a friend or family member as “surety.” If the defendant disappeared, their surety would be tried and sentenced.

However when it comes to the popular concept of bounty hunting in the United States, that practice came about in the 1800s, a time mostly associated with the Wild West mythos. Bounty hunting in the US came to be mostly because of the decentralized nature of the Wild West, while the Sheriff of a town would keep the peace and maintain order, there was no uniformed police force to keep in check criminals and bandits. While a uniformed police force existed in the 1800s, it was not common in towns out westward which had yet to be "civilized" by the United States. Images of bounty hunters capturing known outlaws like Billy the Kid spring to mind or in more recent adaptions of bounty hunting besides Cowboy Bebop, the Red Dead series captures this mythos of the Wild West and the bounty hunter system.

While the advent of the Wild West died out by the early 1900s following the conquest of the rest of the mainland of the United States and the completion of the railway system bringing another symbol of "civilization" to the rest of the country, bounty hunting in the United States still exists today albeit in a different form. While bounty hunting is less of a lawmen profession and is more done in the hands of private individuals, it is a concept that still exists to this day, a concept and profession that is unique to the United States and the Philippines.

Bounty hunting in the US however is not legal in every state, for example in Wisconsin my home state, it is illegal while in other states it is allowed.

So why is bounty hunting only known or allowed in a few countries like the US while the rest of the world has largely shunned it or outlawed it?

I feel like because many states in the world are centralized unitary states and have more centralized police forces compared to our more decentralized police force, that the need for a bound bailsman or a bounty hunter hunting down bounty heads is not necessary as that is a job of law enforcement and the State. It is also seen as insane by some countries especially when general fugitive recovery is something that is a responsibility of law enforcement not a private citizen.

There is also the issue on the practice of bounty hunting itself. Bounty hunters unlike normal police forces have more extraordinary powers that the police do not have a right to. This raises constitutional questions not just in the US but in countries where the practice of bounty hunting is outlawed. For example bounty hunters are allowed to enter the premises of a suspect without a warrant. Obviously breaking into a persons home who is not a suspect is not allowed but if the bounty hunters suspect that their target is in a house or a building they unlike normal police can enter the building without a warrant. Of course, it does vary from state to state and there are nuances when it comes to modern day bounty hunting. But basically, because bounty hunters are not government agents or enforcers of the State, they have been given more extraordinary powers compared to the police.

They don't have unlimited powers like authoritarian powertripers, but they aren't restrained like normal police. You are not going to hear Faye or Spike read a bounty head's Miranda rights (if they exist in the Bebop universe) or treat them with kid's gloves. I can see Faye smirking if a bounty head or a suspect in custody of the Bebop crew is saying something like "You're violating my rights!"

Faye: Fuck your rights, do I look like a lawyer or a judge? Besides you murdered over 20 people.

Hahahaha! xD

But in all seriousness, bounty hunting both practiced in real life and in the Bebop universe would raise some constitutional issues especially in states that have outlawed the practice. Bounty hunting has also in the past and in the present been a poorly regulated business. Bounty hunters can do things that would land police officers in jail if they did any of the sort of stuff that bounty hunters can do.

This has me thinking as I circle back to Cowboy Bebop, why does bounty hunting exist in the 2070s when the practice was historically limited to Medieval England, the US and the Philippines?

As far as I am aware in Cowboy Bebop there is no centralized state that governs Earth or the Solar System besides the ISSP. This could explain why then bounty hunting has made a return in the 2070s and is defacto legal or its at least tolerated by whatever authority exists in the Solar System. Its only tolerated because there is no unified government and there is no concept of a nation state that would crack down and outlaw bounty hunting. Perhaps the traditional nation state was made obsolete following the destruction of Earth in 2021 following the Astral Gate Incident.

Maybe on colonized planets like Mars, Jupiter, Saturn or on moons such as Io, Ganymede, there aren't any states to speak of or nation states therefore would make bounty hunting, a concept and profession only historically practiced in the US and the Philippines, a necessary evil as the ISSP is either too inept at their jobs to enforce basic law across the Galaxy or they are corrupt, thus making bounty hunting more necessary.

Perhaps following the collapse of Earth's governments from the 2021 Astral Gate Incident, a similar mythos of the Wild West began to spring up bringing the concept of bounty hunting which explained above, was born in the US owing to how decentralized the Wild West was. It was called the Wild West for a reason; it was wild in the sense of it being untamed and away from urbanized industrial cities that represented civilization and technology.

So similar to the US from two centuries ago, bounty hunting has become a necessity because of the lack of a centralized authority to enforce the rule of law in the Solar System.

Perhaps in the future beyond the 2070s, either the ISSP becomes more centralized begins to take over the business bail enforcement, or in the future a unified state is created in the Solar System that will bring about the rule of law, order and like with dying the days of the Wild West in the 1900s, civilization at any cost.

Hope this was enjoyable, I might have stumbled on some words and may have made it too long but I just had to post it out there. I hope this is a better topic and less controversial.

Thank you!

#cowboy bebop #bounty hunter #spike speigal #faye valentine #see you space cowboy #bounty hunting

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doctor-meaty · 1 year

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Mermaid Mans Spaceship

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geekynightowl1997 · 2 years

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Hold up. Is there any Mandalorian/ MacGyver crossover fanfiction...

Because honestly, I can totally see Jack being Mando and Mac being Baby Yoda. 🤣🤣

#MacGyver #The Mandalorian #jack dalton #agnus Macgyver #din dijarin #baby yoda #bounty hunting #am I the only person who can see this?#Riley could be Cara Dune #Matty could be the Armorer #Bozer could be Greef #and of course Murdoc is Moff Gideon #anyone? agree? disagree?#let me know

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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Rival: Eseris, Dancer of the Edge

Can you folks hurry up and surrender already? I’ve got a hot date with a smuggler captain and the bastard son of a supernova and that bounty on your heads is going to pay for one hell of a night out.

It’s tough being one of wildspace’s most prestigious bountyhunters: the action, the glory, the riches, the hot alien babes hanging off every word of your latest adventure... but the Eseris persists none the less. Born of a union of between an inspiration seeking painter and the majesty of the cosmos itself, this aasimar duellist now skates about the stars on a torrent of her own light, hunting down outlaws mostly for the thrill of it.

Hooks:

Our heroes first encounter Eseris as part of a random encounter, when their transport is ambushed by a bit of space-faring wildlife that’s decided to take territorial exception to their vessel. While the party is fighting for their life, Eseris spends most of the fight showboating and performing for the other passengers, stepping in to strike the killing blow or if the party REALLY needs help.

Some time later, after the party has earned the ire of some galactic warlord or planetary government, Eseris comes hunting for their bounty. Taking advantage of her ability to fly and the party’s ignorance around strange planear geography, the bountyhunter will attempt to separate them, incapacitating them in ones or twos before finding one last opponent to engage in a duel. While the coin helps speed her along towards finding her opponents, it’s the challenge that serves as Eseris’s primary motivation... and the party might be able to avoid being captured by persuading her that it would be more fun to overthrow whoever it was that put the bounty on them in the first place.

Though a talented swashbuckler in her own right, Eseris’s skills are only bolstered by the aid of a blade that can dance through the air and be controlled like one of her own limbs. Forged from an alloy of starmetal and her own living light, this sword leaves quickly fading after-images with each swing, each of which is just as solid as the original. Should the party be able to get on the bountyhunter’s goodside ( which involves buying her some drinks and making an absolute idiot of themselves), she’ll point them in the direction of where she got it.. a strange celestial operating a forge on a lonely little moon out in the vast night.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #rival #pathfinder #ttrpg #npc #Aasimar #SPELLJAMMER #Bounty Hunting #ambush #low level #mid level #random encounter #astral #magic item

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shadowyfestivalpizza · 2 days

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#bounty hunting #the Division

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bounty-hunter-wolfe · 11 months

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I keep catching Void fucjing up our YouTube recommendations 🥴 I don’t understand why this fucking alien LOVES watching mr beast videos 😭 I’m gonna make him his own profile so it doesn’t fuck up my recommended

#arg #tumblr arg #wolfe #also void says hi #humans are weird #new arg #void #bounty hunting #bounty hunter #rick and morty #mr beast #scififantasy #humans are space orcs

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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

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Random headcanons for my own enjoyment:

What kinds of things does Cad Bane like? What might make him happy or put a smile on his weathered face (besides credits and recognition of his accomplishments)?

***

Basking on a rock while staring at the clouds, most likely on a temperate planet. I imagine him laid out, arms behind his head, shin propped against his knee as his foot idly wags back and forth.

Top shelf whiskey. He likes the combination of the burn and the smoothness going down. Neat, no ice.

Turning off the artificial gravity in the Justifier and floating around to and fro when in deep space, just for the kark of it. Plus, it confuses his droid.

A hot cup of caf to cure a hangover.

Todo 360. He may put up airs, but he doesn't mind him looking after him. It's nice to have someone(thing) around that cares. "Mr. Bane, please don't forget to eat again today." "Yeah, yeah, get off m'back."

Playing Dejarik with Todo. Sometimes he lets him win.

Making jokes at Todo's expense just to get him all flustered on purpose. He finds it amusing.

Stargazing when planetside.

Having no destination in mind. Sometimes he just likes to wander through empty space. Maybe he tries to get lost on purpose to give himself a challenge, though it is nary possible.

Just flying in general - it's freeing. He also likes it when he can sit back and relax, making poor Todo do all the work.

Oiling and cleaning his blaster. He likes to maintain it himself. It's a meditation.

The smell of said gun oil.

Grass under his feet, or walking barefoot in the right terrain.

Rain and thunderstorms. They're peaceful, and he likes the scent of the rain.

Swimming. Like floating around without the artificial gravity, he also likes floating in water. I also imagine this takes pressure off his joints, thus allowing him to relax and eases his aches and pains.

Hair, and also fur. I imagine if he had a pet he would often stroke it more for himself than for the animal. Perhaps it's relaxing. He also likes to play with human hair.

Hand massages - if he trusts anyone enough to do it for him, that is.

A homecooked meal - something warm and filling.

A nice hat, obviously, or a little treat for himself from time to time. Usually whatever it is would be very practical, or an addition to his wardrobe or weapons stash. I see him as frugal for the most part.

Going hunting, in the traditional sense. Maybe he likes to source his own meals from time to time. I can see him on some backwater planet after a quarry that would be considered edible. Maybe he saves the pelt for a blanket.

Trinkets, knickknacks, or otherwise collecting things that are fun to roll between his fingers. Maybe he likes them because they're shiny or valuable in some way.

Pillows and soft things to lounge on in the privacy of his quarters.

Being alone just so he can breathe. Maybe he's a deep thinker sometimes, especially in his old age.

Crunching into a fresh, live insect as a little snack when "real" food is lacking, though he likes the taste.

Research. He likes to know as much as possible about his targets, for instance, before undertaking a job - or his employers, for that matter.

Maybe he checks the news in the morning just so he can gripe and complain to himself about the state of the Galaxy and everything that's wrong with it. He's a grump - complaining might even be fun for him as a way to vent his frustrations, especially to Todo. "Who died an' made Palpy boss'a all dis? Why don' dey jus' chuck his ass out'da senate building? I gotta do e'rry thing m'self?" "You are so right, Mr. Bane. They should hire you to kidnap him again!"

A pretty guy or gal; flattery; one who can't resist his charms and makes him feel good about himself, if only for a short time. Not to say he likes cheesy pickup lines, but he does like his ego to be stroked on occasion.

Telling stories and listening to himself talk when he's feeling sociable, which is rare.

Making fun of people behind their back, and just shit-talking in general.

Being the boss and being in charge of an operation. He likes to be the one calling the shots.

A nice, long, warm shower after peeling off that insulated suit. Not talking in the sonic, neither. Real water. Sometimes his scales are itchy. Nothing like sloughing off old shed.

Solving complicated math problems. Maybe it's like Sudoku for some people. It scratches an itch in his brain. Maybe he does them just for fun sometimes, I.E. he loves puzzles.

Speaking of puzzles, I bet he loved setting up the boobytraps on Black stall station, whether he ever used them or not.

Blowing things up. He's fond of explosions.

Napping.

Doing nothing at all. Sometimes, it's just nice to stare at the ceiling.

#Cad Bane #Headcanons #Cad Bane Headcanons #Star Wars #Duros #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #Book of Boba Fett #BOBF #Bounty Hunter #Bounty Hunting

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