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[color=cccece][b]Age:[/b] [i]Old enough to be yer daddy! What kinda' question is that? Y'born without manners kiddo?[/i]
[b]Race:[/b] Gifted Human
[b]Height:[/b] 5'10"
[b]Weight:[/b] 165 lbs.
[b]Hair Color:[/b] Salt and pepper
[b]Eye Color:[/b] Brown

[b]Description:[/b] Bill was a handsome detective back in his early years, and some still say he can still wear it. He's a seasoned agent who earned his way into the Assistant Director's seat. His age makes him easy to underestimate. He can still outrun and outshoot the best of them and [i]he don't need no fancy-smancy powers to do it.[/i] He is the scruffiest man you'll ever meet and always looks like he just left the house without shaving and threw on the old work shirt and work pants. He often wears his tie loosely around his neck, which usually messes with the OCD-folk in his unit, but they'll be all right. Loose tie, dress shirt, dress pants, and the old detective trench coat completes his ensemble...maybe a cigar and a mug of coffee too. His eyes aren't what they used to be, so he can be seen wearing reading spectacles every now and then. His body is covered in scars, old bullet wounds, and even scratches from beasts not found naturally in the wild.

[b]Personality:[/b] Bill is a hard ass. You either can like him or you can hate him. He will always be over the rover harassing agents, especially when they screw up. He will get in the face of the largest and fearsome of beasts and tell the creature to go to hell without fear of consequence. He's probably the ballsiest old man most agents have ever met and worked with. He keeps the agency running when the elusive Director isn't around. No one has ever really seen The Director but Bill has and he doesn't disclose any information about him/her. Bill is a father-figure to most agents in the force. He doesn't get into anyone's business unless they bring him into it, so don't go telling him about boyfriends or girlfriends. Also, don't hint to him that you're dating someone. You'll never hear the end of it. Bill does what he wants and he likes to believe he operates at least 95% within the rules and procedures. No one is perfect and if anyone has a problem with that, then they can kiss his ass.

[b]Background:[/b]

Jesus Christ where to start...
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[center][i]Yeah, that was me. I was pretty handsome back then.[/i][/center]
I was born in 1960, when racism, drugs, the Cold War—all that was still goin' on. I was the last person I’d expect to be chosen to be a part of The Syndicate. I don’t have a history of valor, war stories, none of that shit. I was born and raised in Kennesaw, Georgia to Lauren and Mick Hadley. My childhood was spent mostly as a country boy, and eventually I went to college at Georgia State and majored in English. After that, I spent several years as an English teacher, and it didn’t pay all too well so I got into some dirty business. I was a thief—a bank robber to be exact. I got away with it for ten years, and I was so confident and sure that I would never get caught. I had a house, I had drugs, I had women, I had cars, and just so much money that I grew tired of it and started giving it away. It was all about how you stashed it back then.

Anyha, I might have escaped the thorough scrutiny of the FBI, but another agency approached me one day—one I’ve never even heard of or knew existed.

December 1992 was the day I was approached by The Syndicate…shit, was I amazed. They had figured me out and not just me…They figured out that I had an imaginary friend. It was either join The Syndicate or go to some crazy supernatural prison they got somewhere ‘round here. It was obvious what I chose to do…I RAN!

I didn’t say that I was smart back then. That hadn’t been my best decision, but The Director actually liked me and decided for me that I would become an agent. And now I’ve been in this business for 24 years. It’s a shorter time than most of these immortals, but I don’t think The Syndicate trusts non-humans. Hell, let that be a poor excuse. I’m good at what I do.

[b]Weapons:[/b]

[b]Springfield XDM 4.5:[/b] There is nothing fancy about the pistol itself. It is a standard 9mm built for accuracy. However, Bill does carry some special ammo cartridges for it.
xNormal - 18 rounds (2 magazines)
xSilver - 18 rounds (2 magazines)
xUV - 9 rounds (Single magazine)
xDispellers – 9 rounds (Single magazine)

[b]Throat Knife:[/b] Bill carries a concealed throat knife that he carries up his sleeve. It’s small and looks like an arrowhead in appearance, and its designed to be inserted right into the soft area beneath someone’s chin. He not only uses this knife for combat but also to pick at his nails or cut open letters.

[b]Skills:[/b]

[b]Self-Defense:[/b] No one expected that the old man knew how to throw down. That was your first mistake. Bill is proficient in taking down at most five opponents in a single fight. He performs a mixed martial arts technique for submissions, grappling, and throws. He needs it now more than ever for he isn’t as strong as he used to be.

[b]Charming:[/b] This guy…Most agents are used to Bill always being up their ass about every small thing. But when he’s around important people/guests or even a pretty lady, agents will see a side of him that they just might think is disgusting. When did he get so polite? That’s not Bill! Even as old as he is, the Old Dog still knows how to work his magic.

[b]Management:[/b] It is truly an impressive skill to be able to run an entire Syndicate all by yourself. He’s been the face of The Syndicate for years. Some agents even think he is The Director.

[b]Marksman:[/b] For a human, he is an excellent shot. Since he’s an agent in The Syndicate, most people want to believe that he’s using some sort of supernatural ability to hit the target so well. It’s called practice jackass! Maybe you should do it more!

[b]Powers:[/b]

[b]Kissy:[/b] What is Kissy, you ask? Why it’s Bill’s imaginary friend. She’s actually a pink fairy dragon about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and just about as heavy as one when she wants to be. She has insect wings, sparkles, and flies around completely undetected by any radar except for when she moves objects. Mind you, this is how Bill described her to The Syndicate. How did The Syndicate find out about Kissy? Well, they exercised some damn good surveillance and might have even used some magic. No one can see Kissy but Bill—no one. She is believed to completely come from his conscience and is completely made up, but not even Bill knows how she exists. Bill and Kissy have been inseparable since he was young, and even now they still continue to be. They work together solving the world’s supernatural problems.[/color]