Ruby — Roleplayer Guild

I feel like a total dick for vaporising like that, it's a douchley thing to do and I apologize wholeheartedly. It's been a weird few weeks, lots of travel and panicking about visas and a stupid general election and stuff... Fairly brutal real-life stress stuff. (Not an excuse, just context.) Getting to see Bear again was awesome, though xD I wish I could pack him up in my cabin bag and bring him home with me, but he's too big and the government wouldn't allow it anyway.

I got an idea for a post, if it's still okay to go ahead and post it! I'll understand if it's not, nobody likes a flake.

Again, apologies - this is one of the funnest RPs I've been in for ages, everyone is super cool and I really hope I haven't inconvenienced you all too badly >_>@Blood Echoes

You good, fam, post away. :D

Well, I got some stupid idea. But It might prove entertaining. Still accepting?

Name: Job Ridges, M.D.
Age:32
Alias: Doc Gator (Yeh, I know it's lame.)
Appearance: Doc Gator is rather tall and well muscled man...if he can be described as man, that is. Being a sufferer of a rarely known atavic condition, very much like a certain infamous crook of Gotham, he is massive in size, with feral features and pointy teeth, and a hardened skin covered in bony patches. His skin is a slightly different shade than the infamous Croc, (namely being a bit more brownish than green) but it is often not enough to distinguish both, at least when it comes to first glances. Much to his chagrin, his clothes often than not are tattered, a side effect of his natural dermal armor, and he can only manage to keep a singed pair of jeans on his self without breaking them away completely, as well as a spacious and equally worn longcoat where he carries his meager posessions, including a wallet and a sturdy wind-up pocket watch. Doc Gator also carries a backpack full of the tools of the trade for a doctor, taking advantage of the weight carrying capabilities of his strong back. A crude metal faceplate hiding his monstrous mouth, held together with straps of tough leather, completes the set. However, it is when he speaks what really sets him apart from that other Gotham crook, because Doc Gator shows a highly proficient and literate expression.
Skills/Abilities:
Crocodilian Atavism: Doc Gator is afflicted by the same genetic condition as Killer Croc, and has ravaged his body with mutations since he was young. Even if they're quite grotesque and disfiguring, they are not without perks. His skin is tough enough to resist abrasions and even firearms, and he has strength that surpasses the human limits. He has keen senses, including a highly developed olfactory sense and good nightvision, as well as feral-like reflexes. His constitution and vitality are also affected, being able to shrug off damage and recover from wounds that otherwise would cripple a normal human. He can move in water as well as in land, and spend long periods submerged.

Skilled Doctor: Doctor Gator is called Doctor for a reason. He is a surprisingly good medic, with skills that branch out in almost all disciplines of medicine. One could only wonder how good would he really be had he had been born with normal nimble hands. He also has managed to publish a thesis in Genetics, due to his own personal interest to find about his condition.

Stoic Master: He has a very thick skin. Both physically and metaphorically, making him very hard to unsettle and pretty unreadable. It was this or becoming a cannibal berserk. Which he only becomes on rare ocassions when he is truly and well angered.

Survivor: Doc Gator is also rather competent at finding himself the way out of hopeless solutions, thanks to a combination of quick wits and a resilient physique. He's not much of a polished fighter, though, as his fighting knowledge amounts to hitting things really hard until they stop moving.

Biography:

Job was a foundling, as someone born with his kind of condition would be cast off by a lot of parents minutes within after birth, and he was no special case in that regard. What followed, though, was nothing short of a miracle. The orphanage he was abandoned into was a well enough, nice place, run by some people of the clergy. And yes, he got bullied, but not to the extent one would expect. Everyone in that place was like a big family, even the strange kid with the weird skin and the big teeth. More often than not, Job would take the physically demanding jobs even from adults to help in any way he could, and would use his strength to protect the little community. However, time passed, and he grew old, and eventually he had to face the real world instead of the somewhat sheltered environment.

Things, as expected, were not easy for Job. Nobody wanted him anywhere. Even if he actually was a bright would-be college student, there simply was no place among society for him, for they saw the beast that he looked, and not the man that he was. Tired and jaded, Job clenched his teeth, and vowed in defiance that he would become a doctor, even if it was the last thing he ever did. He eventually found a place where they could accept him as student.

Santa Prisca.

While for normal people this would mean a really horrible time, Job played his cards of being strong and mean-looking, and he did manage to study and advance in such a turbulent country with relative ease. However, nothing was ever free, and even young Job's faith in humanity erased little by little as he struggled to make ends meet in the cesspool of violence that was said country. One day, he pretended not to notice a murder that happened next door... the next day, he was offered money for a certain patient to "never survive" an operation. Little by little, his heart became dark and apathetic. He wanted to become a medic to spite people... not to save them. And in all fairness, who would put their lives in his hands other than the various crooks of the underworld? Eventually, his skills garnered him some late recognition, and he was awarded a fund to do a thesis on Genetics, a subject he was completely enthralled with, as a means to discover the secret of his own existence.

...However the strings attached to the grant meant he had to serve as a backalley doctor for a criminal syndicate in Gotham...

After all, who else would actually want him as a doctor?
@AtomicNut

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