((Kilquan here. Deleted Tex for lack of interest, this is my fourth, but it is a tossup of geese and Knights... Imput?))
Have you see the OVA or read the manga series of Hellsing? If so how far have you gotten? If not please direct your attention to youtube, and watch OVA 1-4 at least. Warning: If you have watched the anime we require you watch the OVA, or read the manga. The anime is not canon. This is not our opinion. This is the law set down by the creator of Hellsing, Kouta Hirano.
Yup.
Name:
Cylos Madrith "Demo-man"
Age:
34
Gender:
"Ye wanna know what I got under meh kilt eh?" *Suddenly lifts up the flap that sits over his nethers revealing a taped on smiley face* "KA-BOOOOM! Hahaha, I'ma Demo-mon, not a Demo-woman."
Physical appearance:
*Takes a drink and lets out a hacked cry as he points to his eye-patch* "I got a manky ehye. I'ma sad, miserable excuse for a Black Scottish Cyclops. Look at meh, I onleh goh' one ehye. I got more ****&*^%^%*%%*^%^ problems than they got fish in the sea."
Clothing of choice:
A red skin tight jumpsuit covered by a leather vest lined with grenades, ammo for his weapons, and assorted explosives. Right beneath his vest, he has a small toolbox like metal container for storage of assorted baubles and tools. Below, he has a thick leather flap over the groin of his jumpsuit and a taped on happy face underneath. He has a black leather eye patch and a black "doo rag".
http://www.teamfortress.com/images/posts/Dm_final.jpg -- For reference
Weaponry of choice:
Four chamber grenade launcher, sticky bomb launcher which holds eight in the chamber that detonate with the press of a second trigger, misc explosives, a wooden shield reinforced with iron, a heavy iron claymore, and a bottle of booze (don't underestimate a Drunken Scottish Cyclops)
Race:
Human
Abilities:
Explosive Making.
Organization:
Wild Geese
Personality:
He works for the highest bidder. He is a drunkard and is easy enough to get along with. He takes offence to people making fun of his eye, and he may very well try to take yours if you taunt him.
Rank:
Drunkard
Biography:
From birth, he has always been a bit of an odd one. He was always left out because he was a bit different due to his odd affinity for blowing things up. His younger years aren't much to remember because of an accident with one of his explosions that left him with only his left eye and a serious concussion when he was about seventeen. Though, one thing he does remember is a very rough relationship with his father and mother, both of whom were very strict. The kicked him out around the age of eighteen for blowing up the upstairs toilet with some simple explosives.
Around the age of twenty, Cylos was dragged into an organization of underground criminals that fought for the control of intelligence because of his lock of funds. This organization warred with another for control of perhaps the entire world, considering the information warred for. In the end, both organizations suffered from a lack of funding and eventually faded away. He was one of the first cut, considering his... drunken behaviors. Too many complaints from the others about him trying to shank them with a broken bottle because they used the words "I" or "aye" in some form.
He soon joined the Geese, using his talents to bring down walls, booby trap vehicles, etc. Still, he is hounded for his drunken throws, but he is too valuable for them to just toss to the wayside.
RP sample:
"Cheers mate... hic!" Cylos stated, making a toast to himself as he walked through the streets of Paris before taking a long swig of his whiskey. He looked about for his target, Pip had said it was a large, extravagant black car with flags about it, more than likely some Ambassador. He stumbled about the streets, looking from side to side until he spotted the target. It wasn't his job to get kill the guy out in the open, just to cause an accident. "Bloody 'ell. Ye sum gun gradish smit." As if that was suppose to mean something as he walked right passed the shop he was in and around the corner.
And there it was, just as it was described, that lovely car with a few goons around it. But, as he shambled along, a familiar figure passed him, the target. He let out a gurgled burp and tok anouther swig before pulling out his sticky bomb launcher, cocking it and preparing to fire. He hustled into an alley and walked quickly towards the a ladder. He quickly climbed it and fired a few of the sticky bombs onto the roof of the vehicle as it began to drive away. No one had seen the bombs fly, perfect.
Oh well, who would care? Some drunk in a back alley, flying objects and a sudden explosion? Not really a big deal, oh well, time to make things explode! He looked towards the gun and looked for the detonator. He began to press randomly about the thing, he couldn't focus on the button. "Fricka frackin' git'. Take it ye bloodeh fuck." He finally landed the button and a large explosion was heard in the distance. He laughed maniacally and sat on his rump, "They're gonna have to glue him back t'gether... in Hell!"
However, something spoiled his good fun soon enough. A voice appeared behind him and he turned to face a man in a blue suit, the French police. He said something in his native tongue, however, something was uttered resembling "eye". "Oh, ye think yer fanceh prancin' aboot with yer head full of ehe bulls?! I'll show ye!" He pulled out his grenade launcher and spun the revolving chambers before aiming towards the ground.
The police officer pulled out his pistol and began to fire at him. Suddenly, things got graver as a bullet grazed his arm. He dropped his launcher and pulled out the giant claymore and charged the man with his wooden shield held in front of him on his arm for defense and swung a broad strike for the officer's head.
He took the man's head clean off and began to laugh, stating, "Well, looks like you'll get ahead in life! Ahahahahahaha!"
Subject: "They call me the Demo-mon." Ready for voting. 
