Death: On a mission, Executioner was caught off guard and shot by a vampire. He bled out before he could be saved.
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. All.
Name: No one really knows, possibly not even him. Most just call him The Executioner when referring to him.
Age: 42 (or something like that).
Gender: Male (but who really knows at this point?).
Physical appearance: The Executioner is a well built man, standing at nearly 7’ in height. As well, his blocky body (with the vast majority of it being made of pure muscle) gives off a very imposing appearance. His face is never seen, being covered in bandages to conceal his identity. Occasionally, some dark brown hair will poke through gaps in the strips of cloth. His eyes are clearly visible though, appearing an icy blue color. Judging from the way the bandages sit on his face, he has very defined and chiseled features with a strong jaw and flat nose. His right hand seems to be missing his middle finger.
Clothing of choice: The Executioner’s outfit is quite simple; a black body suit under a large brown trench coat. At his waist is a brown leather belt equipped with many add-ons for support, as well as holsters for his guns. Oh his hands are thick, brown, leather gloves. On his feat are black leather, steel toed, cleated boots. Mentioned before, to conceal his identity, he always wears white bandages around his head.
Weaponry of choice: Like his namesake, the Executioner is a skilled killer. As such, he carries a variety of weapons to meet his ends. His main equipment are two modified, extended clip Desert Eagle guns. Each holds 12 +1 bullets and is entirely silver in color. He also carries around silencers for each. On his belt is a large, silver-alloy combat knife with a serrated edge. Kept in two parts hanging from the back of his belt is a M24 sniper rifle, containing 5 +1 armor piercing, silver filled rounds. Kept in one of his coat pockets is a sawn-off, double barreled shotgun. The rounds are specially made, containing rusted and splintered bits of silver, cold iron, and other bits of metal. On his belt are two regular grenades, two flash grenades, and two smoke grenades. He also carries a miniature taser in his pocket for emergencies. All of his guns have several extra clips and ammunition.
Race: Good ol’ fashioned human.
Abilities: The Executioner is amazingly accurate with all of his guns, hitting nearly any target from the appropriate range. He is also adept at hunting the supernatural, meaning he can compensate and adapt well to their enhanced speed (basically, he can keep up with them when he shoots at them). His reflexes have been honed to the level of a category C vampire, thanks to nearly a lifetime of quick reaction and training (his other abilities are quite spectacular by human levels, but not to the point of the supernatural). Aside from this, he is also adept at using his knife, being precise enough in his motions to potentially throw it straight at a target. He also has an extremely high tolerance to pain, barely flinching under most damage.
Aside from the physical, he is also a master tactician and strategist, using both abilities to his advantage when tracking his targets. He is also an expert in psychology and uses his knowledge of the mind to entrap and confuse his prey, making it easier to kill them. He also has a basic understanding of first aid to patch himself up after being injured, as well as having survivalist skills.
Organization: Willing to be hired by anyone (unaffiliated).
Personality: The Executioner is totally uninterested in anything but himself, whether that be bettering his skills or obtaining something he wants. As such, as long as he is paid what he considers a fair amount, he will do any job, no matter what it entails (this is referring to assassination). He has a general distaste for people as well, not caring at all that his source of income involves taking hundreds of lives. He is not above using others for personal gain, doing so often. He has no loyalty and will stoop so low as to betray the people who have hired him on occasion. Basically, he’s kind of a dick. The only person who he feels even an inkling of compassion for is Ladd, due to their shared desire to kill as much as possible.
Rank: Hired assassin.
Biography: While not very apt to disclose his personal history, what is known about this man is that he was born into a military family, his father raising him to be a fighting man just like him. He was taught to shoot before he could walk, and all those stereotypical military parent quips. School was neglected entirely, leading him to grow up without an education (though he would sneak books and begin to educate himself in things such as psychology, history, English, etc.).
He eventually joined the marines at 18, being sent on several special ops missions before, for no reason besides sheer boredom at the repetitive task he’d been assigned (and slight resent of his father for stealing his childhood), he single handedly killed his whole squad and went AWOL, joining up with the Israeli military under an assumed name, learning their techniques and combat abilities before doing the same. He repeated this process over several years in England, France, and a few other countries as well, to the point where he was wanted in a great many countries. Seeing no other option, he scared his face with acid, wrapping it in bandages to further hide his identity. He is currently working as a freelance assassin, taking on any job, provided he gets enough pay.
One of his hits was a man named Ladd Russo, heir to a powerful crime family in America. After shrugging off a sniper round, the two fought for well over a day, unloading all their ammunition in (or at) each other, leveling half a city, and were left grappling on the ground fighting over the knife. The two eventually put aside their differences out of mutual respect, shaking hands before setting off as partners. Their first job; killing the man who hired him.
Recently, the duo met in London. After exploring the ruins for some time, they met with the Batman and were defeated in battle. Sent to Arkham Asylum, they have planned their breakout ever since.
RP sample:
(This story takes place in 1999 in Chicago, Illinois. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Not really.)
It was a crisp autumn morning in Chicago. Wind blew, per the city’s name, helping to cool the coffee of a certain mobster sitting at an outside table. On a building a few feet away was another man, head wrapped in bandages and eye peering through a scope. The site was fixed on the blonde man’s temple. His finger squeezed the trigger, firing the bullet at his target. It missed its mark though, as the man had leaned back to take a drink from his cup, the bullet shattering it and spilling the hot liquid the table and his pants. ”The hell was that?” he questioned, peering at the handle clenched in his finger before another shot was fired, hitting him in the side of his chest. Blood drenched the area of impact, appearing to have pierced the man’s heart as he laid against the side of the shop.
”Oh my God, sir! Sir! Are you alright! Please, wake u-“ The concerned shop keeper was cut short by another shot, this one from a shotgun pulled by the seemingly dead man. A wide grin appeared on his face before he stood back up. ”Awright, which onea ya assholes has the balls tah take a shot at me?” In response, another shot was fired, this one dodged quite swiftly.
Ladd now knew the location of his assassin. Running at full speed, he managed to get enough momentum to dodge the bullets while dashing to the side of the shop his aggressor was on. A few steps up was all it took; from there, he took a leap, grabbing the ledge and pulling himself over, firing a shot directly at the man who tried to kill him. The rifle was knocked from his hands, the man scrambling to his feet to avoid other shots. ”Don’t run away, I just wanna kill ya!”
Turning back around, the bandages assailant drew his own pistols, firing repeatedly at the surprisingly aggressive target. Ladd was managed to dodge the other shots, being forced to take another in the shoulder above his previous wound. It was a fair trade though, as he managed to hit the right hand of his opponent, knocking the gun off the building and tearing his middle finger off and breaking his index. His arm was flung back, hurting it badly. Another shot was fired, hitting his right side and sending him flailing across the ground. He managed to get himself back up, flipping to his feet and drawing his own shotgun to replace his last Eagle.
The two fired at marginally point blank range, hitting several non-vital spots (amazingly) before simultaneously running out of ammo. The bandaged man (whose headwear had gone a bit slack) chucked the gun at his adversary, drawing his combat knife and lunging. ”There we go, still got some fight in ya!” Knocking the gun away with Blasty, Ladd drew his own knife just in time to clash with his executioner’s blade. The two swiped at each other fiercely, sparks flying, yet neither being able to land more than a minor scratch on the other. Eventually, Ladd became annoyed at this, and punched him in the face.
The blow sent him flying off the roof and into the window of another store. He smashed through a jewelry display case, losing the knife in the fall. He saw the insane man coming to follow, quickly pulling the pin on a smoke grenade before tossing it to the ground just as Ladd landed. Using the cover, the man escaped, leaving a couple more grenades as a present. Once outside, the store’s windows were blown out by the explosions. A slight smile appeared under his bandages; mission accomplished. Well, it seemed to be, until his target walked out, dusting the remains of his suit jacket off his body. ”So that’s how ya wanna play, is it? How’s about a knuckle ball, then?!” Twisting back, he threw his own grenade at the man in the style of a baseball pitch, the explosive spiraling towards the man’s head. The bandaged assassin barely had the time to duck, still being hit in the back by the explosion. His coat protected him from any major damage, allowing him to get back up for more.
”They sure don’t make em like you anymore,” the blonde psychopath stated affectionately before rushing at the man again. He swung hard with his right fist, being blocked by the man’s left and counter by a punch to the jaw. A simultaneous smack to the cheek hit both, knocking them back. Each went back in for another, blocking each of their hits.
”Why can’t you just die?” the man questioned, the first words he’d spoken the whole fight. He was entirely perplexed at how this man could put up such a tremendous fight. What was this emotion he was feeling? Maybe…respect?
”Ain’t it obvious? It’s just too much damn fun to kill!” This was followed by a strong head butt. Then, Ladd proceeded to deliver a flurry of quick punches to the man’s head, blood beginning to appear on the bandages, some falling out of place to reveal charred and veiny flesh underneath. ”God, this is great! I haven’t had a fight like this in years! I am gonna kill you! Yes! Yes! Yes! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!” Regaining his senses before a pulled back punch, the bandaged man grabbed the fist as it came plowing towards him. From here, he pulled the man’s body to the side, smashing his head into his knee. Knocking Ladd to the ground, he got on top of him and proceeded to return the favor.
This lasted somewhat shorter than Ladd’s beat down, his senses returning faster and culminating in a punch to the head. Grabbing the man’s arm, Ladd swung him in circles before launching him into the coffee shop where it all started. The door splintered to pieces as the man plowed through, rolling to help take the fall, but still plowing into the wall. ”How’d dat feel?” the blonde man asked, being met with a chair to the face. While he was pushed back, he wasn’t knocked over as was hoped. In response, the man took the two splinted legs he held in his hands and stabbed Ladd in the stomach. In response, he got an uppercut.
Tearing the stumps from his body, Ladd rushed towards the man on the ground, only being stopped by a double kick to the face, this being able to send him out the doorway. Back into the streets the man came running, letting out a low roar as he punched the man several times in the face. The blonde man drew his knife again, only to have it kicked from his hand. Both men rushed to grab the knife again, plowing into each other and rolling several times, beating each other’s faces as they struggled to get on top. Eventually, with Ladd on top, they were forced to attempt to strangle each other. He was getting the upper hand, being on top, and the bandaged man could feel his throat being crushed to pieces. In response, he boxed his opponent’s ears three times before he let go, pushing him off. Barely having the strength to get back up, the two stood, panting and glaring at each other.
”I’ve killed a lotta people in my day, and let me tell ya, you’re one tough-ass bastard,” Ladd complimented.
”Likewise. The only time I’ve fought someone as strong as you was back when I killed my team leader in the marines.” The blonde man began to chuckle, turning into a loud a laugh quite quickly. Both pulled back for what looked like a punch, only instead of fists, open palms met for a firm shake. ”You’d be too much of a waste dead. How about this; you come work with me. You’d get to kill people any time you wanted for pay.”
”Kinda like the sounda that,” he responded. ”Only problem is I’ma bit tied up here right now.”
”That’s fine. How about we met again in 5 years? London?” The assassin was adamant about having this man join him; he’d never met someone as interesting as this mobster before.
”Sounds like a plan,” he answered, catching the knife his new friend tossed back to him.
”See you then,” the man responded, the two parting ways to collect their weapons and tend to their injuries, knowing full well the other would make good on their promise to reunite one day.
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Reposting since Ladd's back and I figure we might be able to do something this time around.
Subject: Executioner repost [death by bullets] 
