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Description
Likes: Violence, bloodshed, killin', motorcycles, guns, swords, knives, weaponized rebar, explosions, combat boots with cleats, gas station burritos, smokin', smokin' babes, smokin' people, smoked sausages, drinking, doin' drugs, tattoos, pouches, anarchy, Pantera/insert other washed-up Gen X metal band here, bein' XTREME

Dislikes: Authority, laws, manners, kindness, hope, bein' told what to do, do-gooders, fruits and veggies, cleanliness, waiting in line, literally anyone I don't like

Height: 15'0"
Weight: ~1,000 lbs
Eye color: Red
Hair color: Black

Planet Molzzon had been, for all recorded history, locked in perpetual war between its northern and southern hemispheres. Far too much blood, treasure, and heritage was at stake to quit, even if the Molzzonians themselves had forgotten what started the war in the first place. As the species developed warp drive capabilities and joined post-industrial interstellar commerce, fewer and fewer were adept at the art of war. Then came the lottery. A few were selected every year by chance to be transformed by a rigorous and painful process into the ultimate biologically enhanced, cybernetically augmented, heavily armored super-soldiers. Over time, more recruits were taken from less developed tributary planets enslaved by their debts to Molzzonian traders. By the time the Galactic Federation fell, none were Molzzonian. The war became a popular gameshow, with people across the galaxy reveling at the bloodshed of gladiatorial combat at the planet's equator. With the Federation's dyson spheres all destroyed remotely one day by the galaxy's most notorious terrorist, starvation and chaos set in. And then came the revolution.

After a valiant assault on the Molzzonians' joint flagship, Slazher 434482 was blasted off course by the force of half a nuclear arsenal to a faraway interstellar rogue state called Earth, where he crash landed near the desert home of a mysterious, but crafty teen goth girl. Unknown to Slazher, this girl was actually a powerful entity claiming to be the Devil. In a quick bathroom surgery to save his life, she grafted two enchanted chainsaws on the stumps where his powerful forearms used to be. Infused with the power of Hell incarnate, Slazher- hereby dubbed the Hell Razor- was let loose to cause chaos around the world. Minutes after the operation, Slazher brutally killed an infamous hyper diabetic mob boss known as Lynchpin and stole his custom-made XXL Harley Davidson for a road trip.

Wanted by the criminal underworld, crime-fighting vigilantes, local authorities, state authorities, federal authorities, international authorities, and the various shadow government organizations designed to suppress knowledge of extraterrestrials such as the Strategic Homeworld Intelligence Team, Slazher is now forever on the run. He will kill anyone who gets in his way- or anyone he feels like slazhing.

Description
Likes: Violence, bloodshed, killin', motorcycles, guns, swords, knives, weaponized rebar, explosions, combat boots with cleats, gas station burritos, smokin', smokin' babes, smokin' people, smoked sausages, drinking, doin' drugs, tattoos, pouches, anarchy, Pantera/insert other washed-up Gen X metal band here, bein' XTREME

Dislikes: Authority, laws, manners, kindness, hope, bein' told what to do, do-gooders, fruits and veggies, cleanliness, waiting in line, literally anyone I don't like

Height: 15'0"
Weight: ~1,000 lbs
Eye color: Red
Hair color: Black

Planet Molzzon had been, for all recorded history, locked in perpetual war between its northern and southern hemispheres. Far too much blood, treasure, and heritage was at stake to quit, even if the Molzzonians themselves had forgotten what started the war in the first place. As the species developed warp drive capabilities and joined post-industrial interstellar commerce, fewer and fewer were adept at the art of war. Then came the lottery. A few were selected every year by chance to be transformed by a rigorous and painful process into the ultimate biologically enhanced, cybernetically augmented, heavily armored super-soldiers. Over time, more recruits were taken from less developed tributary planets enslaved by their debts to Molzzonian traders. By the time the Galactic Federation fell, none were Molzzonian. The war became a popular gameshow, with people across the galaxy reveling at the bloodshed of gladiatorial combat at the planet's equator. With the Federation's dyson spheres all destroyed remotely one day by the galaxy's most notorious terrorist, starvation and chaos set in. And then came the revolution.

After a valiant assault on the Molzzonians' joint flagship, Slazher 434482 was blasted off course by the force of half a nuclear arsenal to a faraway interstellar rogue state called Earth, where he crash landed near the desert home of a mysterious, but crafty teen goth girl. Unknown to Slazher, this girl was actually a powerful entity claiming to be the Devil. In a quick bathroom surgery to save his life, she grafted two enchanted chainsaws on the stumps where his powerful forearms used to be. Infused with the power of Hell incarnate, Slazher- hereby dubbed the Hell Razor- was let loose to cause chaos around the world. Minutes after the operation, Slazher brutally killed an infamous hyper diabetic mob boss known as Lynchpin and stole his custom-made XXL Harley Davidson for a road trip.

Wanted by the criminal underworld, crime-fighting vigilantes, local authorities, state authorities, federal authorities, international authorities, and the various shadow government organizations designed to suppress knowledge of extraterrestrials such as the Strategic Homeworld Intelligence Team, Slazher is now forever on the run. He will kill anyone who gets in his way- or anyone he feels like slazhing.