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[color=00a651][h2]Maxwell Helmes[/h2][/color]

AKA: Goldust

Age: 
34

Appearance:
Max stands at an impressive 6' 2", and his muscular fame intimidates most. He keeps himself tidy for the most part apart from when it's fighting time. The clothes in his picture is just show clothes he wears for paid fights. Usually, he can be seen wearing the same gloves, but a black leather duster coat and a black leather gambler stetson hat. He's usually got two holsters for his pistols, including a back scabbard for his shotgun. His holsters have custom fitted compartments for his knuckle dusters too.

Bio: 
Maxwell was born and bred to be a fighter. His father was one, and his father before him. The Helmes were a famous dynasty of boxers and prizefighters, so Max had a lot to live up to. His mother, while supportive of her husband, did not want Max sharing the same profession. However, when he was taken to see his father fight for the first time when he was six years old, there was no denying it. The kid was hooked. He begged his father to teach him. But of course, he was too young to learn about the ins and outs of being a fighter. 

Life for the Helmes were hard in Dawson. Everyone who knew the fighting scene knew the name and stopped at nothing from trying to get revenge if they were a sore loser. However, his father sent everyone who knocked at their door packing. It wasn't until Max was 15 that he was taught how to fight like his father. At the beginning, Max... he sucked. He was awful. He had two left feet and no idea where to throw his hands. But no prodigy ever started out perfect. Over the years, through rigorous training and harsh criticism from his father, he got better and better. Three years of helping with labour and training with his Dad, Max was finally ready for his first match at the ripe age of 18.

Wrapping his hands, Max stepped out into the ring, cheered for being accompanied by his father, who doubled as his coach. The fight was a squash, with Max's pedigree training his opponent didn't stand a chance. Of course, these talents were sought out by many who needed a strongarm in their ranks. Max's childhood friends had grown up to be lowlifes, thugs and gangsters. One of them went to him after the match, away from his father. He offered Max a spot in their gang, promising money and power. Young and wide-eyed, of course Max accepted. Maybe it was the inexperience, or just the adrenaline from the fight, that made him agree, but it was the worst choice he made.

He's been to every kind of seedy establishment imaginable. Having no idea on just to the extent Dawson criminals were going to, Max tried his best from getting too involved. Anytime the gang would enter a room with a girl or two inside, Max had to walk away. Anytime an innocent person was getting beaten or harmed for no reason, Max clocked the perpetrator. No one disagreed with him, for they knew what would be in store. However, his time with the gang forced him to use guns from time to time. He didn't become a great shot with them, but he was passable in the least. Which is why nowadays he uses a shotgun, because it doesn't need much aiming.

Max left as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that was seven years. Max had to literally fight his way out of the hideout, they didn't want him to leave. With blood on his knuckles and staining his shirt, Max walked all the way back home to Dawson. However, turns out his father finally got too old to keep fighting on and had met his maker. He returned to an abandoned home, with two bloodstains on the sheets his mother and father would lay in at night.

It was the work of Dawson's men. Looked like his dad had either won a fight in the ring against the wrong person or quite frankly pissed that person off enough. With the house claimed by Dawson, Max had no choice but to return to the ring. He carried on 9 years, up to now, making a name for himself as the third coming of the Helmes Dynasty of fighters, and nothing was going to stop him from finally cracking his knuckles on Dawson's cheek one day.

Weapons: 
Two brass knuckles, Two Revolvers and a Shotgun.

Relationships: 
Family, friends, romance, etc. (optional)

Recruited?: 
Not yet

Other: 
Gets nervous on horses.
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