"Hellscouts are nice because you don't have to worry about them getting killed when you send them off to do something. In fact, that's almost the idea."
–Anonymous Deitic officer
Azel is a demonic scout employed to alert an outpost to any threats; the very definition of a throwaway grunt. He is a terrible shot, poorly armed, and practically untrained, with little ability to speak of– worthless, to put it bluntly, and were it not for his interesting area of operations, you'd be much better off focusing on someone less embarrassing to the Demonic legion (read: almost anyone else). But, as it were, the mutt happens to be very closely connected to an unusually large number of outstanding individuals through nothing but sheer, dumb luck– and he doesn't even realize it.
As a Hellscout, Azel appears outwardly like a cybernetic canine given a humanoid body, but internally, things are a bit more exotic. His entire body is made of a controlled grey goo, requisitioned from a non-controlled and ever-growing mass whenever he sustains a fatal injury. Being entirely made of highly flexible claytronics, the nanites making up his body mimic a variety of materials both synthetic and organic, giving him an unconventional internal structure. While his organs are made of what is indistinguishable from flesh, they're built like machinery, crammed together in whatever way seemed most cost-efficient. His rib cage is comprised of a number of flexile graphene ribbons, with four additional, otherwise overlapping ribs protruding from his back to assume the role of tendrils. His skin is a layer of pseudo-silicone, covered in strands of kevlar fur everywhere but his forearms, calves, and tail. His legs are fully mechanical from the knee down, providing environmental feedback that gives him very good situational awareness, so long as he's on the ground.
Azel is, above all else, naive. He holds a childishly positive view of the cruel and unforgiving world around him, enchanted by the beauty of the unnatural nature he finds himself immersed in. Without the possibility of permanent death, he's fairly detached from reality, caring little about his own well-being, and true to the anthro spirit, his mind fixates on the morbidly depraved, often fantasizing about situations that knowingly lead to his own demise. These traits give him a borderline suicidal curiosity for the threats he's supposed to stop, much to the chagrin of his superiors who have swept him to the outskirts of their influence.This same flaw does, however come with a silver lining: his insatiable desire to experience the world around him for better or worse gives him a unique drive all his own. In practice, this mostly just means it's easier to talk him into walking over an obvious landmine.