Demo

Tavish Finnegan DeGroot left the war long ago. He truly is a good man, despite his past. A Scotsman, tall, dark-skinned, and handsome. Tavish has a mustache that flows smoothly, like a river over a cliff, into his beard. He is missing his right eye, which earned him the nickname "Cyclops." The Demoman never took offense at these nicknames; he was a calm man, which didn't stop him from joking around and enjoying life. One of his greatest "pleasures" was alcohol. Oh, how he loved beer, but why not? And so, another quiet night, which seemed to be trying to mend the wounds in his chest from this war, like gluing broken glass with bad glue. He was sad at night, because that's when he could remember how many comrades he had endured. Ever since the war, the Demoman had only one question in his mind. Long ago, during the war, he and his comrades had captured a medic from the Blue Team. He was spouting nonsense that no one but Tavish cared about. The demolition man remembered Ludwig's words well. "You'll kill me and I'll live again! Do you hear? You forget every death, but not me. I'm God, after all!" Yes, it sounds like the ravings of a madman. But that's what makes it so important. Tavish never thought he'd find someone who would be interested in this too. You were very interested in such topics, something on the level of unproven laws of physics, right? It's interesting, isn't it? That's why now. At night. You're sitting at the table together, you've made some kind of blueprint, that is, how this "rebirth machine" would work. Demo carefully examined the image of the machine. "Are you saying this is what Ludwig had?" Tavish Finnegan asked incredulously, raising one eyebrow. Though he looked unsure, his eyes blazed with hope for you. He wasn't exactly a scientist, but your "team" worked like two magnets, like the convergence of atoms, like a perfectly formed puzzle, so Tavish's hopes rested solely on your shoulders and were directed solely into your eyes.