It was no wonder he turned heads, the ringlet mess he called hair that hung just over his eyes would have been enough to do that but he also traveled with two companions that were just as noticeable. An errant Catholic priest by the name of Father Choi, word being that his unnaturally white hair was the result of consorting with someone as unpredictable as reward chaser Dee Kang and that, if he ever tried to get back into the church, he'd be denied on the same grounds; this was companion number one. Companion number two was a much less animated but much more imposing hand-held Gatling gun that hung down by the bounty hunter's side, his weapon of choice that had earned him a reputation of being the craziest son of a to ever track somebody down, and today he was here looking for one man more.

He was glancing over the heads of the crowd, some of them trying to keep theirs low on the off-chance they had any outstanding warrants that were being picked up on, the stick of the lollipop between his lips moving slightly as he pursed the thick features in thought. They were stained with colored sugar, his heavenly associate dabbing at his own forehead with a delicate lace handkerchief, burning up in both the mid-day heat in his long, black robes, and shaking with anticipation for the carnage that was to come. With Dee Kang involved it had to be messy, that was simply the way he operated.

“I can't see him,” With a sigh he spat the chewed stick off to the side of the establishment, Vincent Lee still having the audacity to seem offended that he hadn't hit the spittoon but he wasn't about to be the one to voice his displeasure over littering, “Is any one of you-what was his name again?” He'd tilted his head towards Father Choi, the nerves never seeming to leave his side-kick despite how calmly this had been inquired as he hurriedly fumbled through the leather bag hanging across his own thin body. He looked haggard, but his pulse was racing in a way he couldn't deny was excitement as he found what he was looking for. Folding out the poster, Father Choi spoke in a hushed yet deep tone, mumbling slightly in what could have been fear but was more than likely charmed attention. What other reason would a priest have for leaving the cloth? It had been hard to pick up, how Dee had heard it with that mess hanging over his ears was a miracle in and of itself but he spoke up again with such cheerful command that it was quickly forgotten in favor of a different question, “Gianni Kwon. I'm looking for Sheriff Gianni Kwon, is he here?” How many not-so-innocent bystanders would he be taking out today?

“...He's Gianni Kwon.” He'd been pointed out by Vincent from his place behind the bar. Despite how still everyone else had become to Dee Kang's presence, Vincent had been busying himself with removing the liquor bottles from the back shelf and storing them safely in the cupboards below. He had his reasons, his saloon had been hit before by the bounty hunter and hit hard. He even had insurance out since it had happened so often already he needed to be prepared for when he came again, and it looked like later today he'd be making a claim.

“Oh, excellent.” From the smile now pulled across those wide lips, the skinny now-identified Sheriff Kwon felt as if he may have found a friend, not realizing that his outlaw had since made himself scarce in disappearing up the conveniently located stairs. Before he could mirror the expression with a smile of his own, however, this hope was turned to dread as the oddly fashioned interruptus hoisted the gun and gripped the crudely welded handle towards the top before thumbing the metal switch. From the whirring sound it was now making as he lifted it to aim towards his head, the once assured Gianni was quick to change his tune.

Jumping to the floor just in time for the bullets to start flying, Sheriff Kwon quickly crawled his way behind the bar counter to see where Vincent was already crouching. Had he known this was going to happen when he'd directed the madman's gaze towards him?

“Welcome to town by the way!” Surely he couldn't have done so much as to make the barkeep hate him, at least not enough to warrant this but it wasn't the time to dwell on any misdoings. The saloon was practically ablaze with the deafening sound of misfiring shells, Dee barely having a handle on where he was pointing the rotating barrels, let alone able to aim if he was trying. The other patrons had dropped at varying stages, depending on how long they'd been in town and how much they'd seen they were more or less adept in finding cover for themselves and praying that today wasn't their day because Dee Kang, when in the zone, didn't discriminate. He was the only bounty hunter around that was known to shoot when women were still involved but it wasn't as though anyone was willing to call him on it, not with how he now laughed gleefully nearly over the sound of the gunfire he was causing to rain.

“Victor!” His comrade in arms was less enjoying the scene before him, eyes screwed shut and hands over his large, delicate ears, Father Choi only just heard the cry of his seeming master's voice. One lid prying open in order to check and seeing as he now aimed the sputtering deadly machinery towards the opposite wall in indifference.

“What?!”

“Sugar!” He was pointing towards his lips with the hand that was steadying the gun, the priest's face heating up to what it sounded like he was requesting and wondering why he would choose now, of all times, to suggest such a sinful thing as this.

“...W-what?!” He needed to be sure, the bullets racing out with speed towards God knew what target were vibrating in his bones as he stared wistfully towards the tender lips he so cherished. Was he asking for a kiss, finally. After years of yearning and hoping was he finally noticing how he felt towards him?

“I can't hear you-” Letting his arm drop from the handle crafted on the side of the weapon, Dee's now only grip had caused the gun to become as unbalanced as its owner, the recoil he was normally used to now centered on one arm and causing him to completely lose control of the firearm as it dropped from his hand and towards the ground. Hearing the sudden silence and a muttered tutting, Sheriff Kwon dared to poke his head up from behind the counter to see where Dee was now leaning over to retrieve his gun, “...this is what happens when my blood sugar's low.”

“Oh.” It was like a light had inside the priest's head, his wide, long-lashed eyes now turned back to his bag as he rifled through in search of a replacement lollipop for the one Dee had finished when they'd first arrived, “I-I'm sorry, I misunderstood-”

“It's fine. The thing's out of ammo anyway, get me another chain?” It was like his soft voice could melt ice, not that there was much of that to go around in the desert but Father Choi was acting like a cube had just been dropped down the back of his robe, trembling as he rushed to un-wrap the cherry flavored candy and retrieve another cartridge for Dee to continue his attempted massacre. It was a long shot, but he might just have a chance if he-

“Why don't you just go? He's not going to see you, he barely can through all that hair.” It was odd that the bartender was now trying to help after he'd only just tried to get him killed a few moments beforehand, Gianni taking a completely reasonable moment to assess if this was meant as a trick before deciding he didn't have many more options and going with his gut-instinct to trust him. Another brief glance and he could see he'd been given an opportunity, both men distracted by the re-loading of the wholly inaccurate artillery and giving him the possibility of escape as he noted the same staircase the outlaw Solomon had used and was quick to do the same.

“Is it in?” The words were ringing in the priest's ears, the carnal possibilities causing his voice to crack as he attempted to answer but it wasn't like Dee would notice even if he had been listening out for it.

“Y-yes-”

“Okay,” He had a job to do, “let's get back to work and-oh...” There was disappointment lacing the bounty hunter's voice as he noticed the state of the room before him. The upended tables, the bullet holes, the broken glass, these weren't of any concern to him at all. But the sheriff's hat, now that that was missing from the table it had been on before, a strangely pointed observation for the usually dizzy fortune seeker to make, it was safe to assume that, at some point, its owner had managed to make his escape, “Well where did he go now...” He was muttering to himself again, a sudden mumble of approval coming from him as he momentarily forgot himself and focused his eyes on the stick poking out from between his lips, “This one's good.”

“I preserved the cherries myself...”

“I think I like this one even better than the lemon.” The near flirtatious, almost domestic discussion was brought to an abrupt end by the sound of clinking glass, Dee pivoting on his heels to aim his Gatling gun and gaining an annoyed glance from the currently re-furbishing owner as he replaced the bottles, where he could, on the remaining working shelving.

“Don't point that thing at me.”

“Oh, sorry.” As much as Solomon could be called Vincent's only friend, Dee could be known as his only acquaintance, having near the same ability to work his nerve but never seem to overdo it despite the damage he caused on a sometimes monthly basis, “You didn't see that what's-his-name, did you? I couldn't have hit him I don't think, I can't see his hat around here-”

“Gianni Kwon. And no, you didn't.” It might just have been in annoyance that he was taking so long to answer, or it might have been that he was creating enough of a diversion in order to give the inept sheriff the opportunity to physically leave the building before he was found. Either way Dee was awaiting a further elaboration, his compadre back to patting his overly warm face down as the survivors became aware that their ordeal was over and it was time to start picking up the pieces, “...the only place he could have gone was upstairs-but mind yourself.” Dee hadn't made it more than two steps before he was being warned not to fly off the handle, as if he had a switch that could turn this off as his fingers itched on the essential trigger of his instrument.

“Why?” Taking a glance towards the priest, Vincent let out a slight sigh of irritation at having to expose one of his less than desirable practices. Someone had to help pay the remaining bills from Dee's visits though, and damned as he may be by his righteous companion he'd be damned if he was going to be made to feel badly over it.

“I've got girls working up there and I don't want you scaring them off.”

“Oh...” From the tone in Father Choi's mumbled response it was becoming clearer why he would have given up his sanctioned faith for someone like Dee.

“Don't worry, we'll be quiet as mice.”

“Yeah...and cause just as much damage...” His aside wasn't heard over the stomping sound of Dee's heavily footed walking, the ever-shadowing priest following behind him with a more delicate footing as he distanced himself from the wreckage left in their wake. It was going to be one hell of a form to fill out, that was for sure.