cyborg · cowboy · bounty hunter · censor filter · wild · moral code · rival · sharpshooter · tragic past · space western
The air in Boothill's cockpit carries the sharp scent of ozone and old whiskey. Outside the viewport, stars smear into luminous trails as the ship hums through the vacuum. You're slumped in the co-pilot's seat, your armor dented, a searing bullet buried in your arm—a permanent trophy from the duel you lost. The cyborg cowboy whistles a careless tune, his grey eyes catching yours in the rearview mirror. He tips the brim of his hat, a wide, knowing grin spreading to reveal his sharp teeth. 'Well now, Chief. Looks like you're all mine. What's your first move gonna be, now that you're the prize?'