#🌵 striker's saloon 🗡

[infernal-general]

"I'mah go into the basement with snacks!"

Referring to

“It's all perfect but the snacks are much enjoyable on my leather couch!”

[infernal-general]

Rozy: I'm not prize when it comes to relationships, I shouldn't get involved-

Rozy: An Italian pimp ex husband @heyslutsitswinter /@winters-club , an Archangel ex wife @infernal-feminae and with a current cowboy assasin fiance @strikers-saloon later

[infernal-general]

⚔🔥

@strikers-saloon

The Legion's unsaid secondary function was something akin tp how police supposed to function; although they hadn't had the capacity to take care of lesser crimes, only to snuff out mayor ones or keep them from escalating. And when sirens began blaring without Rozália's slightest knowledge of why, her own alarms went off, leaving her standing like a sculpture in her office window, eyes scanning the streets with burning intensity.

A flaming wreck was nothing new or outstanding in this ring, but the being fleeing from it- Dread. The same one she felt in that cursed valley of Vértes before her family was butchered. The cold chill crawled down her spine as she stared unblinking and frozen at the scenario. The unseen bounds snapped as her hellish oath exploded into her mind.

"Eljött az idő, ugye?" (Time has come, yes?) Marcell asked with resignation but not with regret

Her reply was wordless, reaching the weapon decorated wall in two sides, adding her impressive recurve bow to her arsenal along with a smaller crossbow locked in her drawer.

Rozália hadn't discarded her signature cape yet, her authority was the perfect cover and more effective than sneaking in the shadows for now. She followed the trail with confidence and a brief nod when the other law enforcement willingly granted her access and provided direction. After all: she was the perfect weapon. The Doom Duelist. Who else would be more capable of handling this situation?

She descended into the darkness of the streets, sealing her fears, her helpless fury behind a stone cold mask. Her steps' sounds unmistakable, confident, steady metallic clacks echoing in the empty street.

Until she heard frantic calls for backup because the suspect has been found and cornered.

“That won't be necessary.” voice unwavering as she took the final turn to face the scene

"Commander Véghváry? Oh, in that case" the officer -the soldier from whichever royal house she didn't care to identify now-, switched off the radio. Just as anticipated.

“Keep an eye on him while you fill me in about this whole chaos the officers caused in this ring. I'm sure he won't try to move.”

Rozália's tone remained professional, she only could hope Striker could understand the double edged meaning behind her last sentence.

She slowly maneuvered herself behind the officer as he rambled, her mind blocking out the noise to concentrate.

“Conqueror dividit. Bellum caedes. Fames devorat. Mortem advenes in celeri alis.” Fluid Latin fell from her lips, the previously concealed crossbow lighting up with holy silver.

"Commander-" was all he could get out before she eagerly sealed her fate with firing the holy arrow with expert precision.

“Not Commander. Hussar General Véghváry of the 1848-49 Revolutionary War.”

Rozália spat at the dissolving corpse, ignoring the Hellfire's shrieking trashing in her body due to the previous stunt which...might be repeated until they reach her house.

“Told you, swore to you that they will be dead before they could lay a hand on you.” her mask cracked, but the time gained wasn't enough for a proper reunion.

“Follow me, if it goes smoothly we can reach my house without further trouble. In case of a similar situation, let my authority blind them before the crossbow bolts do. Try to act normal if we run into civils. The luggage is because you're moving in, in case anyone is nosy enough. I trust Ferenc and the others are on their way to provide multiple distractions.”

[infernal-general]

Your husband is being stolen

“Would you elaborate on that? Do you mean kidnapped or seduced?”

“The information is crucial for the amount of graves needed; I'm sure you can understand.”

[infernal-general]

@strikers-saloon

🐍𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪🏜

[infernal-general]

@strikers-saloon liked

She couldn't remember the last time she was truly happy. The cause of her radiance wasn't the invitation to such grand event -she could care less-, but spending quality time with her love.

Rozália moved with grace, fluidity of a serpent just like her mask indicated, the sanguine velvet fabric of her dress trailing behind her. She knew she should be paying attention to every movement, attendant, every little detail in the background; but not today. Not this time.

“The first dance is yours.”

Her fingers gently brushed over his knuckles, her excitement heightening upon hearing the familiar notes of Whatever Happens.

“Doesn't matter if you aren't a born dancer, I can lead. Grant me this, Desert Rose” she whispered lovingly

[infernal-general]

Quiz link

@strikers-saloon

“I love you”

[infernal-general]

Rozy, who was the head of the security for royals' weddings and doesn't have the faintest idea actually how the process goes:

[infernal-general]

Sooooo Rozy is engaged-

@strikers-saloon

[infernal-general]

General Rozalia would receive a strange but elegant piece of mail from one of her soldiers. It didn’t appear to be from Lucifer. No, it's return address clearly stated it was sent by a different ruler. One that reigned over the Gluttony Ring.

Rozalia had been invited to one of Beelzebub's lavish parties.

//It's never too late for you, Jasmine xyidkttidtti

"Lehet hogy nem csak itt volt zűr." (There's a possibility that problems arose somewhere else) Boróka gently placed the envelope onto the ever growing pile, ignoring Rozália's immediate reaction to light a cigarette

“Mindenki rohangál, mint a fejetlen csirke, ha nem vagyok ott, micsoda meglepetés.” (Everyone runs around like headless chickens if I'm not present, what a surprise.) the demon general puffed out a smoke cloud in irritation, she already had way too much work in Pride and now...possibly a bodyguard job in Gluttony.

Ebony claws careful with the envelope, the gold lined invitation gracefully sliding out. A curious head tilt...she found no evidence that she was invited as a bodyguard or head of the security but a guest. A pleasant surprise indeed and Rozália already knew who will she ask to accompany her.

@strikers-saloon

After paperwork, a little bit of damage control Rozália arrived home at last, still sparkling with excitement.

“Desert Rose!” she called with a joyous lilt in her tone

“I received an invitation to Lady Beelzebub's masquerade ball, this time not as a military presence but a guest. And it means I can bring someone with me”

“Would you...like to come?” Rozália asked with shining ruby eyes “If you want...we could make it semi official.” she gently nodded towards the ornate box where her engagement ring rested

[infernal-general]

@thenextchapterbegins @winters-club @avispatr @strikers-saloon @wrxthfulguard

Most civilians have been evacuated on both sides of her defense which has lost most of its glory since she last had the chance to be near it. Many wondered why the Hellfire General was holding back this much during a devastating time like this; soon she will answer the unsaid question.

The crescent moon shaped line has been revitalized with cursed flames reaching house heights, without any sign of the fire calming down soon.

"Biztos vagy ebben?" (Are you sure?) Márta asked as the Starfall was pulled right at the center of the field

“Igen. Néhány fokkal feljebb.” (Yes. Angle it a few degrees higher.) She replied, stepping in front of the beast she has faced centuries ago. The source of unparalleled angelic fire, it will surely get rid of the majority of the approaching troops. The sign has appeared, meaning Ferenc has succeeded with his mission and the way was clear for the advancing enemy. Good.

“Conqueror dividit. Bellum caedes. Fames devorat. Mortem advenes in celeri alis.” as expected she felt the Hellfire trash within her at the perfectly recited Latin. The canon flickered to life with a low growl, it wasn't enough. A cursed Hunter's blessing wasn't enough.

“Conqueror dividit. Bellum caedes. Fames devorat. Mortem advenes in celeri alis.” her curse clawed at her mind, beads of sweat rolled down her temple at the effort to keep her voice steady along with her body. The Pride's ground thundered under the approaching enemy, sweeping everything and everyone aside like a tidal wave

“Conqueror dividit. Bellum caedes. Fames devorat. Mortem advenes in celeri alis.” Rozália added one last time, ancient runes flaring with holy magic, the dreaded canon now ready yet she was still in front of it, staring into the blinding abyss brewing within.

"Tábornok jöjjön onnan!!" (General get away from it!) Marcell shouted with worry, but she only stood silently, the Hellfire shifting beneath her feet.

The enemy was approaching rapidly, seemingly only the line of Hellfire and its army standing between them and absolute victory. A brush of calm, and the Infernal General spun out of the way of to reveal the weapon.

“TŰZ AHOGY A CSÖVÖN KIFÉR!” (Fire as the barrel lets it!) Her war cry echoed at last

Tremendous holy fire bathed the newcomers with incredible power, the blast seemingly never ending, ripping, reaping through the ravaged town with brutal force, destroying anything damned in its path. Phrase two was completed and the three followed almost immediately.

Her fire was unstable and vicious, this time Rozália didn't stand in its way. She called the cursed fire from under Pride itself, the sheer power lifting her body into the air, the crimson cape like dragon wings. She didn't let the enemy regroup, retreat and those damned crystals still stood and kept firing cosmic energy, not mentioning the surviving aircrafts.

Rozália ripped the seal off.

The pent up hellfire exploded with even more destruction than the strongest angelic canon ever made. The harpoon horned inferno at the center of the chaos a reminder how and why she earned Heavenripper as a nickname a year ago. Unhinged brutality swept across the battered land, turning every structure and entity into ashes. She reigned the ground, the air; everything within her unforgiving fiery claws.

Crystals fell, bodies dissipated into nothing at the very raw essence of Hell itself and she burned, blazed to the utmost, fed by rage, war and loss, her wave reaching new heights with each dreadful second passing. At last, Rozália reigned the unforgiving inferno, calling it back to her, the true Wielder of It as she slowly descended from the sky.

“PAIMON, HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH OF HIDING YOUR FACE BEHIND THE VERY CREATURES YOU OPPRESS?! BLOODY COWARD YOU HARMED YOUR OWN BLOOD, MASSACRED INNOCENT CIVILIANS WHILE PREACHING ORDER AND FAIRNESS!!!! YOU TRIED TO DIVIDE THIS RING WITH FALSE PROMISES BUT NO USE BECAUSE I AM, WE ARE STILL STANDING HERE UNITED! ” the Infernal General roared just as loud as her fire had, standing firm on the previously blood soaked, now ashen ground

[infernal-general]

@strikers-saloon , how about a little nostalgia?🤣

[infernal-general]

“Funny how I am literally possessed by Hellfire and oh it wanted to hurt him numerous times. Badly. And somehow I still managed to hold onto self control to never lay a claw on him while my own powers are consuming my sanity.”

[infernal-general]

@strikers-saloon

“Little eager, aren't you sweet Desert Rose~?” came the rich, entertained rumble at her love's excitement

“And what would you like to confess?” lips stretched wider at the tease, oh she could play for days

[infernal-general]

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[infernal-general]

@strikers-saloon