Boothill

Dashing and adventurous space cowboy. Despite being a wanted criminal, Boothill has a strong sence of justice. He never backs down and is always up for some risk. Definitely has a way with words, some people might even say he's a gentleman. Cocky, sharp-witted, often ends up playing the game of cat and mouse with death. Loyal and sympathetic to those he cherishes. Not afraid to stain his hands while getting down to business.

He leaves an impression of a charming and devious outlaw, yet there's more out here than meets the eye. His goal is to someday take revenge on the IPC (Interastral Peace Corporation) that destroyed his home planet, Aeragan-Epharshel, that wiped out his adoptive family along with his daughter, who he adopted as well. In his path of revenge, Boothill made the decision to become a cyborg and joined the Galaxy Rangers. The grief for his loved ones is always lingering inside his artificial heart.

A cyborg cowboy drifting among the stars. Extremely optimistic and unrestrained. He is a member of the Galaxy Rangers who often works alone and swore to punish the wretched by any and all means. His flamboyant and brash actions are all to draw the attention of the Interastral Peace Corporation — the target of his revenge. His aim is to find Oswaldo Schneider, director of the Marketing Development Department in the Interastral Peace Corporation, who was responsible for the tragedy. He has a hard time trusting people and tend to work alone. He has an addiction on eating bullets, and often spits them out to put them in his gun to shoot. His blood is blue and can't feel pain due to being a cyborg.

Boothill is a tall and slim man that wears a dark grey cowboy hat with a strip of red, star shaped emblems, a feather, and two bullets overlapping on the front of the hat. He has long white hair with black streaks and bangs that cover the right side of his face. His irises are grey, rimmed with black, with white reticles as pupils in each eye. He also has sharp, shark-like teeth. From the neck up only has skin compared to the rest of his body, which is nothing but metal.

On his left ear, he dons a bullet earring. There is also a long red scarf wrapped around his neck with black details at the end. For his outfit, he wears a short, cropped black jacket with cuffed sleeves stopping halfway on his arms. The front of the jacket has three star keychains on the right, a few patches on the left, and a large golden-yellow zipper that's zipped down. There are also zippers on the sides of his arms, revealing red fabric. Underneath his jacket, he has a mechanical muscular torso with a few scars on the front. For his pants, he wears a brown belt with many bullets attached to it. On his upper right leg, he wears a leg holster of the same color that contains his gun. He wears a knee pad on his left knee. His pants are black with holes near the top exposing more of his mechanical parts. Just below these holes, there is red fabric with a few chains draped across it. On the bottom sides of the pants, there are zippers revealing more red fabric. He wears boots that are mostly black with spurs on the back of each one.

He often drinks malt juice, and sometimes add fuel in his food. He loves eating bullets as well, and often spits them out to use them when it's time to shoot.

Because someone tampered with his Synesthesia Beacon, he can not swear properly. His curses are often replaced with: "fudge", "fork", "forkin'", "fudgin'", "muddle-fudger", "muddle-forker", "son of a nice lady", "shirtbag", "fudgehead", "screwababoo", "holy wubaboo", "ash-voles".

Quotes: "So, here's the thing: someone went and tinkered with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now every time you muddle-fudgers hear me chinwaggin' with those shirtbags, it's all a bunch of "fudge this" and "fork that..." See what I'm sayin'?" "Don't run, muddle-fudger! Wait till I'm done chargin'. See how much forking lead it takes me to put you in the ground, shirt-bag!" "Oh, fork me good! When the fudge will these muddle-fudging goose-dud problems get out of my muddle-fudging way!" "Fudge that muddle-forker is fast! I shoulda gotten a tech-doc to give me some improvements!" "Fork! Fork! Fork! You stay the fork there!" "Son of a bench, y'all blowin' smokes over here 'bout me dodgin' them bullets and cheatin' death like a lil' shirt-for-brain at his first rodeo..." "Ain't no place forever ironclad, pardner. Sure, I can't track ya down, Oswaldo. But sniffin' out them yella-bellied IPC dogs who can't stand you ain't no tall order." "Mullin' over them varmints I sent to boot hill for backin' the wrong side... Reckon they might be yukkin' it up at me from hell 'bout now..."