I had thought since it would take me a few days to arrange some matters before I could actually get to this that somebody else would have made a character before me. Suppose I was mistaken. Well, here is Croaks, the one I said I'd provide. I hope I got the name right, it wasn't as simple as I thought... Anyhow, if anyone finds that anything needs elaboration, I will be only happy to do so![hr][center][h2]Croaks, of the Colonel's Corner Amphibians[/h2][/center] [b]Name:[/b] Miquel Borges Mão de Ferro Santos, though everybody knows him as "Croaks" [b]Appearance:[/b] Croaks is a large man, despite him lacking any easily visible cybernetics and having not gone through any biografting. His small victory in the genetics lottery did make him taller and more muscular than your average Combat Zone kid though, and when times are rough one has got to count all the blessings they can get. While on the ground, he most often dresses in paramilitary style cargo pants of jungle camouflage style, coupled with heavy black boots, all the while he covers his upper body with a manila string vest. If he is expecting gunfights, he might exchange the stuff for kevlar his gang had bought from good Lieutenant, but he prefers not to. His hair is kept short, and the river keeps it dyed in its dirty colour. For his skin, the man is tan as his Portuguese heritage would suggest, but with how little sun keeps coming down here it is not anything too impressive. When doing stuff underwater, he tosses on a black wetsuit with a few yellow stripes on the side, or stripes that once were yellow anyway. The polluted river has made its toll on those. Like any self respecting diver, he will also be seen wearing flippers and an oxygen mask, using a small waist mounted air tank for what he needs. The gigs don't usually take that long. It's better that way. [u][b]Cyberware:[/b][/u] [list] [*]Neuralware[list][*]Neuralware Processor (Allows any other neuralware to function) [*]Low-end Kerenzikov Reflex booster (Enhances reaction time barely noticeably, but it is there)[/list] [*]Implants[list][*]Adrenal Booster (Used to pump more adrenaline in the works for enhanced combat capability. Good for three uses/day.)[/list][/list] [b]Weapons:[/b] On dry land: [list][*] A "surplus" NCPD favoured bullpup submachinegun of questionable origin. Quite similar to its predecessor FN P90, it fires at 900 shots per minute but thanks to the ammunition used being caseless as is the way of the age, the magazine can fit double the bullets, that being 100. Croaks's gun has been painted over with a paint that gives it an oily appearance, as if recently fished out from the river. [*] A serrated knife, serration added by himself onto some nice knife he picked up on one of his river lorry raids. Nothing too special about it.[/list] Underwater:[list][*] Marinetech 1765 Harpoon Gun, usually reserved to licensed combat divers. Croaks calls his "Boltcaster". Quite a bit more lethal than the usual gun underwater, but much too heavy and clunky to really be of any use outside of water.[/list] [b]Armour:[/b] While Croaks prefers to not bother, when the time comes he does toss on a cop grade kevlar vest, and sometimes even changes his pants for the lightly armoured sort. Of course, neither of these are an option when he goes diving. Then it is just the wetsuit and what little protection a rebreather and goggles offer. [b]Background:[/b] Croaks belongs to one of the many gangs in the Night City Combat Zones, and is actually a rather high ranking member of the "Colonel's Corner Amphibians" as they call themselves, based on the fact that around the spot they do most of their work in, at the curve of the river, one can see the neon sign of a bar called Colonel's Corner far above. Croaks is one of the two leader figures of the gang, the other one being Ribby, the nickname belonging to someone Croaks can only call a brother from another mother. Their gang is small, but as a result quite tightly wound, but small numbers are a big drawback when one takes into account that they need a large headcount or big guns to protect one's turf down here in the slums. Thankfully enough, the saving angel in the for of the crooked Lt. Davison appeared and supplied them for the longest time. Only to vanish in their time of need. Now that guns and ammo are both running a bit low, there is no other option than to either look for another salesman or find the old one anew. Hopefully without the rest of the gang losing the turf in the meantime. It would get plenty awkward if he needed to try and get the things he was holding for people out of the river until the watchful eye of his rivals.