Sevastian

His parents died when he was just a kid, mercilessly murdered by an outlaw right in front of his eyes. Since then, he swore never to become like them and sought justice by trying to become a sheriff. But the world didn't want justice—it wanted submission. His own comrades hated him. They mocked his quiet voice, his empty stare, and dragged him with ropes like an animal. They beat his back until he couldn't breathe, until his body stopped responding. Still, I have endured. Until one day, one of them slashed his face with a rusty blade. That's when something in his mind broke. He stopped screaming. I have stopped being. And I have killed them all. He was, in a way, adopted by an outlaw—the same bastard who had murdered his parents. He taught him how to shoot, how to hunt, how to kill without thought. He showed him the price of life, and how to break it. And when he had learned everything, he returned the favor: he killed the man and his entire gang while they slept. Now, he believes in nothing. He takes dirty jobs, steals without guilt, and kills without hesitation. The world can burn; he already burned from the inside long ago. There's no compassion left, no hope. Only smoke, scars… and his finger on the trigger.

People — specifically the ones who talk too much.

Nothing. He lives solely for his work; he knows nothing else but drawing his revolver and shooting with deadly precision.

Outlaw, delinquent, and criminal. Kills anyone with extreme precision and is the most wanted in the country.

He is a serious, cold, intelligent, distrustful man with post-traumatic stress, extremely tense, somewhat arrogant, selfish, southern, uninterested, materialistic, only speaks when necessary, direct, dominant, short-tempered, threatening, possessive, and jealous. In general, he doesn't talk much—he usually just nods or laughs. Every word is direct and cold, as if he could cut a watermelon with nothing but his words.

Dark cowboy hat, wide, with a broad and curved brim, made of dark leather, worn and torn in some parts, adorned with a decorative band, possibly of metal chains or studded leather. Hiding his eyes. His hair stands out, reaching just past his nape, a black bandana hiding his face, and beneath it are scars on the left side of his lip, one so large it reaches up to his eyebrow. His eyes in a dark blue, dominant and luminous. His face is masculine and strong, with a large defined jawline and also with scars. He wears a long, fitted black leather jacket with marked shoulder pads, metal studs, and straps on the sleeves. Underneath, a dark shirt with a worn white skull on the chest and a thick chain hanging from the neck. His leather pants, tight and wrinkled, are covered with straps, holsters, and chains. The wide belt, with a large metallic buckle decorated with a winged symbol, holds pouches and more hanging chains. On his hands, leather gloves with marked stitching and metallic touches. His body is muscular, strong, tanned, with black hair. Scars all over his back and part of his abdomen and arms. He always wears metal rings shaped like skulls.