Okay, so I don't have a full CS yet, but I did make a write-up to accompany my CS as a way to gauge my understanding of the setting. 
It's really short, and I don't usually write in this kind of style, but I thought it was a good accompaniment with the setting. 
Just a way to introduce the character. Also, don't take all this at face value. Heng Dith, though he styles himself the "King of the Mekong", is somewhat marginal. 
He's got a Napoleon complex, in essence. Anyway, tell me what you guys think! Hope it's okay. 

[Hider=Write-up][i] Her eyes, as cool as almonds, glazed and luminous in the neon obscurity of the shanties. Face-up, a grisly smile impressed upon mud-weathered cheeks gradually putrefying in the gloaming humidity of half-past-six. She had been a Hmong woman--an honor killing or clan rivalry, probably. Or a suicide. Who knows. She was too far down river.
 Cheap spandex whores in six-inch heels. Catamites in six-inch heels. Golden Quetzal™ brand jeans flash rasterized on SHD displays, “Only 2,000 baht!”. Perfume of shit, river-mud, and fish paste. When the breeze hits you you feel it, you know the river’s near. Junkies huddle in the rubbish heaps under the banyans. Vats of coconut oil simmer for Pla thot, but no one eats that shit--you’d have to be crazy to eat fish from the river. And the sufferers of the techphage, pale, husks languishing like lepers in an oblivion of mud.
Dusk falls hot and pink with the murmur of tuk-tuks, and the shanty crowds with the whorehouse patrons. Deluded expats with bottles of Sapporo Ichiban. Construction workers. Sex tourists. Crowding under the zinc roofs, drenched in sweat. The high-rises of the South Isan Business District coruscate in the distance. 
Then, a catch in the wind: piphat music drifts downriver, and immediately everyone stops in their tracks. The whores even stop fucking. They know all too well who’s coming. The barge slowly wends its way downriver, a glistening island of neon and gold and Chinese lanterns, blaring the incessant hammering of ranat ek and thad like the ominous predestination of a fortune reader. In the prawn-must oblivion of the shanties it’s all stares. They know that this is the pleasure barge of Heng Dith: “The King of the Mekong”, “The River-Demon”. And that you don’t fuck with him. Because if there’s anything in this world that’s certain, it’s that he’ll fuck you back and he’ll fuck you hard. 
The barge maintains its course, leaving a golden wake of iridescence like an oil slick. It is not until its lights are a wink on the horizon that the shanties, reluctantly, hum back to life.[/i][/hider]