Chapter 5: Killers-For-Hire
Whistle of Arrows
XXXXX
Ceramic shingles crack under a speeding boot, soon followed by a black feline paw. The scorching sun veered down on two individuals running across rooftops. "Dammit Halga! I stole that wine, which means I get first taste!" The panther Catfolk shouted still running. His pink wine-dyed duster flapping at his heels.
The half-orc woman in front of him didn't slow however. With a lockbox in hand, one large enough to contain a wine bottle, she made a mad leap from one rooftop to another. Despite her size she was incredibly acrobatic. The Catfolk stops just at the edge, not risking the jump. Halga stopped and turned to face him.
"Sorry Whistle! But who was it that tipped it off to you in the first place? Oh yeah, that was me. Consider this a finder's fee." For a brief moment she held the lock box in a single hand as she flaunted.
Whistle outstretched his right hand. Under his black fur his veins glowed orange as he pulls his hand back. The lockbox in her hands fly towards Whistle as he catches it slamming into his chest. "Lesson 15: Never leave yourself open to be stolen from!" Whistle said triumphantly. He opened the lockbox only to see it empty.
"Lesson 22: If you are to steal something from a container. Always take it out if possible." Halga reply mockingly as she pulled the wine bottle from behind her back.
The hairs on Whistle's back rose. He dropped the box and flashed his claws. Gritting his teeth he let out a wild cat's growl. Helga's playful mood turned to worry. "Whistle, I--"
It was too late as orange flashed in both his arms. He stretched his arms towards the metal chimney behind her. In a fluid yet sudden motion Whistle was sent propelling forward towards her.
However, the scenic rooftops gave way to a dinning room table. He heard a loud bang, and felt a sharp pain in his side. He lost his composer, but kept his momentum as he rolled across the table taking fancy cutlery and candelabras with him.
XXXXX
"Bounty" Hunter in the Bush
XXXXX
Target: Tannis Boughgrove
Race: Dwarf
Gender: Female
Height: 4' 5"
Weight: That's rude.
Wanted for smuggling illegal magical artifacts through the docks of Chegaz.
Reward: 250 gold alive, 25 dead.
The Catfolk sat in a tree on overwatch looking towards the southern Chegaz docks. A lightning rifle in hand he observed a boathouse through the scope, the barrel resting in the elbow of two branches.
He pulled his face from the scope for a moment to fan his face. He looked like a grey caracal cat, and even though he was under the tree's shadow the heat was killing him. His black duster didn't help much either.
He peeked back into his scope noticing a boathouse door open. Target spotted.
"Two guards. No, one. The Dragonkin is unarmed. Unaware dock worker. Other one is acceptable casualty; might get a bonus if taken alive but unlikely. Target is on the move. 500 meters. 505... 510... Out of range in 10 seconds. Correct for wind... 2mph North by Northeast. Bullet drop... Aim for the shins, painful, disabling, usually non-lethal. And... MARK!"
His finger moved to squeeze the trigger, but he was hit by a wave of lightheadedness. His body tenses back up with the bang of his rifle. It's now mounted on the side of a dinning room table. His eyes were still in the scope when he noticed the hurling mass of black, pink, and gold flying at him. He stood instinctively when he should have ducked and took the full body of the other Catfolk to the chest.
"Bloody 'ell mate! Where'd you come from?" The caracal wheezed still catching the wind knocked out of him.
Whistle tried to stand only to fall with a pained cry. He clutched his left side then looked at his hand. Blood. The caracal noticed this and moved to help his kin. "Oi mate! Look at me, and hang in there!"
"Stop... Shouting... it's just a graze. I'm not dying. Calm down." Whistle stood up with the support of his kin. "The name's Whistle of Arrows."
"Hunter in the Bush, but just call me Bounty. I hate my given name."
"You can always change it you know."
"Yeah, well, I still hunt things from bushes. What else am I gonna change it to? Bounty-hunter-in-the-urban-sprawl?"
Whistle let out a pained laugh as he put some weight on Bounty. "That's a bit of a mouth full. Anyway, sorry for breaking in through the window."
"What are you on about? This place ain't mine, mate. I don't even know how I got here."
The door gently opened as a maid pushing a food cart entered. It took about a second to see the whole scene. Two strange Catfolk, a spattering of blood, the dinning table absolutely ruined. Bounty tried to stop her. "Um, I can explain."
"GUARDS!"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Mr_Monti
Mr_Monti Though every character has different ways of speaking, Whistle and Bounty are the only ones with dedicated accents. Whistle has a slavic tinge to his voice while Bounty sounds vaguely Australian.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone