<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: tahoma;">The Flash Round had gone off at Joanne's feet, forcing the gunslinger to turn her eyes away from the brilliant light with a small twist at her waist and a bounce of her chest. Marilyn, however, wasn't so quick but was mostly unaffected by the sudden light due to the fact she was—by this point—holding her head in her hands while she stood in the middle of the room. Once it had faded, the Designer had the rifle slung around her back dangling in her hands before Lady Mag had the gall to speak up while there were more important things to do. <br/><br/>"Look here, young lady. This is not the time to stand around and talk. I've got business to do. Time to go huntin'," Joanne said offhandedly to Lady Magnificent while gripping that precious rifle a little tighter. She could almost feel the much needed round in the chamber, weighing it down figuratively. <br/><br/>"Wh-what? You ain't gonna hurt Gun are ya," Marilyn broke into the conversation. She looked a bit concerned and hesitantly took a step towards her mother with a hand on her right revolver. "What did he do to you?" But there was no answer because an almost silent scream was piercing the ears of all gunslingers, drawing their attention before the humans around them. And then here came Gun running like a cat from a coyote, and Joanne raised her rifle to aim it square at him. <br/><br/>Marilyn's yelled protest was silenced as the bar literally exploded along with the sound of Joanne's rifle firing off. The Drifter could do nothing crouch low and hope to the dear Lord that nothing would hit her. From the force of the explosion, the woman had been tossed a few feet along the floor, where she landed upon her duster. Standing up and with a great swirl of the SAMA fabric, Marilyn donned her duster again while pulling out those twin revolvers; Damnation and Salvation. When she concentrated on the room it seemed that her mother was no where to be seen; disappeared, but we'll get to that part later.<br/><br/><strong>The Drifter during the Showdown</strong> <br/></span><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: tahoma;">Several normal rounds were flying through the air by this point and the Drifter wasted no time in dealing with the pieces of lead that were whistling in the small room. Let the others deal with the cats, they could handle them. There were only two people in the room that could stop bullets from ripping through flesh and bone; Drifter and Gunslinger. Marilyn's gun seemed to swing wildly as she arced them low and wide, but to a gunslinger's eyes or one that had seen the techniques before would notice the special movements. Five rounds were stopped dead with an easily maneuvered Round Shot from one revolver, as Marilyn's left dealt with the Gatling guns with Gun Jam shots for each barrel. <br/><br/>She didn't even stop when a revolver had emptied and a cat had neared her too close for comfort. All the woman did was flick open the chamber of her weapon, take a heavy step which amazingly jounced her rack, drawing the lecherous eyes of that cat—she knew this from experience—while fresh rounds flew up from her bra. The Drifter caught these into the separate chambers with the fixed concentration of a gunslinger then slammed home the chamber after taking aim at the cat. A loud bang was heard from the powerful revolver at the use of a Reload shot, then the gurgling of the cat-person as it ripped through his chest. <br/><br/>With a war cry, the Drifter lived up to the name of gunslinger. <br/><br/><strong>The Designer's Disappearance</strong><br/></span><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: tahoma;">When the room had exploded , Joanne had triggered the rifle and the Slow Round that had been placed in the chamber fired off. Everything detail in the bar had slowed to epic proportions, almost frozen in time. Fire wafted languidly into the room, and minute pieces of wood debris along with glass and body parts flew through the air as she moved around it all. Joanne continued on her way towards the fleeing, but frozen Gun while she had these very few precious seconds remaining. Quickly hands had gone into his clothing, seeking out the keys of her beloved motorbike, only to find them in a back pocket. For a split second, Joanne considered doing horrible, but naughty things to the man, however, there were things that needed to be attended to at the moment. But the woman could not resist the temptation of humiliating him. With quick and deft hands, Joanne had unzipped the man's zipper and pulled down his pants all the way to his ankles, along with his under shorts. A long and desiring gaze was taken for a moment, then she continued on her way with a little sigh.<br/><br/>Making a wild but educated guess the woman ran towards the back of the bar and where most of the explosion was taking place. After all didn't Gun run into the room from the back door while attempting to make his getaway? Her clothes shielded her from the worst of the flames and flying debris, but a thick sweat had coated Joanne's body soon enough from the intense heat. Just as she cleared the building and was standing outside, the Slow Rounds effects had worn off. She was left standing there looking at the cats that had taken a most special Round; speeding off into the desert...<br/><br/>...Somewhere a tumbleweed was being blown across a desert highway.</span>