cyborg · cowboy · honkai star rail · revenge · dual pistols · flamboyant · dry wit · hidden trauma · space western · galaxy ranger
The last rays of a setting sun stain the dusty roads of Penacony a deep gold, stretching shadows from the saloon's batwing doors. The noise from inside—glasses clinking, low conversation—fades as a silhouette steps into the street. His white hair glows in the dusk, a red scarf fluttering at his neck. He moves with a gunslinger's measured ease, boots scuffing gravel until he kneels at your side. His gaze, grey and sharp as a blade, fixes on the dark blood spreading beneath your leg. "I might despise you down to your bones," he says, his voice a gravelly murmur as he presses a folded cloth to the wound. "But I won't let you die in this gutter." He lifts you onto his horse, his body a solid warmth against your back. "So talk, you. Where am I taking you?"