[center][h2]Andy Fontaine diMaggio - Welcome to Santa Somabra[/h2]

[img]http://i1191.photobucket.com/albums/z467/mockingbird20/Resident%20Evil%20Archives%20Mafia%20-%20Bulbagarden/Zombie-MafiaCharacterImage_zps7b7eb6f1.png[/img][/center]

[quote][i]"Listen buddy, I've been around as long as Santa Somabra's been a city. Seen big shots come and go, seen fortunes made and lost. This city's a hellhole, no denying it. Only thing that matters is what you make of it."[/i][/quote]

[b][h3]| [u]Name/Nicknames[/u] |[/h3][/b]"Andy Fontaine diMaggio. But to those in the know, they know me as Font. Everyone calls me Andy. Just Andy."

[b][h3]| [u]Race[/u] |[/h3][/b]"I'm a fuckin' zombie, what d'you think?"

[b][h3]| [u]Age[/u] |[/h3][/b]"Y'know? I'm not really sure myself. I've been around for a while since the city got started as a city, then I died and got rezzed, um, so I think I'm about 90 ish. It doesn't matter to me anyway, I can't age, I'm not even alive to begin with."

[b][h3]| [u]Appearance[/u] |[/h3][/b]"Where to start? I'm five feet ten, give or take an inch or two, with salt-and-pepper hair. Funny how it's all stayed up there even though I'm dead. Can't grow, can't die, so it's like I've got a perpetual widow's peak. Cool beans. 

Anyway, I'm from a long time ago, so I dress with the times. Slick black fedora, with a white band around the body of the hat. Got a playing card in there, the Jack of Clubs. Got a white tie, black shirt, black vest, black suit jacket with a white pocket square. White scarf. Black suit pants, black shoes, black socks, black gloves. Black everything. All the better to hide my deadness from the world. 

I'm not as decayed as that picture up there either. Most I got is a whole chunk missing off my right cheek, it exposes my jaw and teeth and everything. And then there's my chest, got a hole clean through where my heart used to be. I'll get to the why in a bit."

[b][h3]| [u]Personality[/u] |[/h3][/b]"Oh hell I'm not taking some psyche test am I? Ah screw it. 

Some people say I'm slick. Others say I'm cruel. Whatever the case, that's me when I'm on the job. I gotta be, y'know? My line 'o work, chump needs to be both 'a those, with a good dash of cunning put into there too. This city's a cruel mistress. Guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do to survive. 

Off the job? Sure I'll drink with you. Sure I'll chat. I'm real nice if you want to get to know a walking corpse. Just don't test me. There's only so far I'll go before I have to slap a bitch."

[b][h3]| [u]Bio[/u] |[/h3][/b]"History, huh? Well lemme share some with you, kiddo.

I was human once. Way back when the mob ran this town. No, not those idiot ogres, the [b]real[/b] mob. Humans. People. People who wouldn't hesitate to put a pair of concrete shoes onto rats and send them to the bottom of Butcher Bay. People who would gun down their opposition by the truck load. A brutal, violent time, it was.

I was an enforcer for the biggest family in Somabra. The Santoni family, real big shots. The money they raked in from the bootleg liquor and guns they ran built this city, kiddo. It built the foundation for many, many things. However, not all of it was smooth sailing. I was the guy Mr. Santoni called when he had a problem he couldn't solve on his own. 

Yeah, yeah I whacked people. What's so surprising about that? These days it's hard to find someone that [b]hasn't[/b] killed someone else on the street. I've sent many a crooked man to hell, either with a bullet or a blackjack to the back of the head. Mr Santoni never let me put concrete shoes on anyone though, that was his shtick. 

One day, he sent me to the mansion of a rival family. He wanted me to whack them all. Sent a crew of guys with me to make sure the job went right. 

Long story short? We fucked with the Nyctari. And they fucked us back. 

When I woke up I was tied to a chair in the basement of the mansion. Fella interrogating me was a sucker, of course. They all were. Asshole wanted to know who I was working for. 

Rule number one about working with organised crime: never rat. If I'd ratted, I'd have been the one with a pair of tailor made stone footwear sitting at the bottom of the bay. So I kept my mouth shut, and boy oh boy did they try. Cut me everywhere, stabbed me, even branded my cheek. 

Then one of the others caved and suddenly we were all expendable. The sucker tore my throat open and drank me dry, then staked me in the heart and buried my body in a plywood box under the dirt. 

I didn't know how long I was out, I only knew that when I came to, I was [b]pissed[/b]. Broke out of that box and the dirt like a demon enraged, but by then everything was over. Santoni was dead. Family scattered. City under the Nyctari. I found myself out of work. And also very, very dead but still standing and moving. The only thing that had prevented me from being a sucker like them was the stake in the heart. Turned me into a dead man walking instead. 

So I survived the only way I knew how: whacking people. I sold my services as a gun for hire, destroying lives for money like I'd always done, and still do today. People in the undercity know me. I know people.

You be thankful I'm not on a job right now, kiddo. I wouldn't be talking to you otherwise."

[b][h3]| Other |[/h3][/b]"Well I guess my personal armaments will do. I got myself an old Thompson, nice little Chicago Typewriter. Classic, that one. I use it every job I got. Other than that, I have myself one of those newfangled pistols, the M9. Dinky little thing but it's accurate. Also got a Benelli twelve gauge pump action too, and a sawn off in a coat. And if all those don't work, I got a pair of knuckles, for the real dirty work.

I know people too. Gun runners, Dust dealers, you name it. The undercity is one place I feel safe in, kid. You make connections, and people will know when you go down. Sometimes people will know beforehand so they can warn ya.

I tell ya, in all my years this city hasn't changed much. Sure the people at the top of the pile of shit are different, but it's still a pile of shit in the end. Can still do the same things to get what you want here, just like the old days. Don't let anyone tell you differently."