Name:
Alexei Anosov

Age:
47

Occupation:
As head of the Mafia in New Realna, Alexei has little time for a legal job- So as far as the city is concerned, Alexie Anosov is, quite simply, a very, very wealthy man who makes a lot of donations to local museums and galleries. In reality, he heads the Russian Mafia... To great effect.

Appearance:

Standing at an imposing six feet four inches, and built like a brick shit house even in his middle aged years, Alexei certainly looks the part as far as intimidating mob bosses go. He tends to dress well- Particularly for a Russian fond of vodka and crime. But this is not out of any sense of style. Merely a... Mark of station. His eyes are a dark, dark blue in color- Almost black, depending on the light. His hair, once a deep black, now takes on more grey, salt and pepper at best... With a lot more salt than pepper. Under the suits, he looks like any other crime-based Russian. Built with thick, rock-hard muscle, easily comparable to a tree stump in build, and covered in various tattoos. Words in Russian, various images- Plenty of things. His knuckles, arms, and chest are all riddled with scars of varying size.

Personality:
In public, Alexei takes on the poised, polite air of any other rich man who makes a lot of charitable donations to seem good in the public eye. His press persona is next to flawless! But, leading the Mafia away from cameras, he is a genuinely terrifying man. Not because he blusters and shouts- No, he rarely raises his voice beyond an easy, conversational volume. But because he never fails to follow through on threats made. Should you make a mistake, and fail to give him understandable reason why, you can be certain that -he- will beat you within an inch of life. Not his lackies. Not his body guards. Alexei himself. This is not to say that he is an unfair man. If you were told to kill somebody and failed, and the reasoning makes sense- For instance, because the other guy had ten body guards with shotguns and you like your limbs in tact- then he will not beat you. After all- One person can't beat ten people with shotguns! Not unless they're some kind of ninja, anyway. Instead, he'll send you back.

With ten guys with -bigger- shotguns.

History:
As far as histories go, Alexei's is actually fairly cliche'd. He started at the very bottom- And I mean lower than the shit one scrapes from their boots. Homeless, hungry, regularly beaten upon by those crueler inhabitants of Moscow whom saw him as naught but scum in the gutter. Needless to say, all of that left him harboring savage feelings towards those people who thought themselves so high and might. He would show them. He would be bigger than them one day, and show all of them!

At least, that's what he liked to tell himself. For the longest time, he thought it was just a pipe dream, impossible to achieve. But, into his teenage years, he found that he was on the receiving end of those beatings less and less- For even without food, living in the cold, Alexei was a big young man. Harsh living made him tough- Made him strong.

And that was how he first became a criminal. He decided to use that realization to his advantage, to try and make a little money- Maybe get off the street, if only for a night. So he attended an underground fight. No rules, no holds barred- And he won. He won a lot. No matter how many strikes he took, the boy never went down- And when he himself landed a hit, it was like thunder. Devastating. Breaking ribs and knocking out teeth with every wild swing. He began to earn money for each fight- Enough to live in a shitty apartment and feed himself, even! Slowly, he got better at it. He got hit less, and hit the other guy more. It was nearly a year into his career as an underground fighter that local crime organizations took notice. Young as he was, he was given no important work. But he became regularly hired muscle- And as he grew into adulthood, he took on more and more work- Until finally he wound up as a guard in the Russian Mafia itself. Slowly- Ever so slowly- he clawed his way up. Muscle. Leader of small groups of muscle. Guard to somebody moderately important- Then somebody more important.

Until finally, he became important himself. He was nearly thirty by the time it happened. He received an offer he couldn't refuse... Even if he wanted to. It was made under veiled threat.

To lead the Mafia branch in New Realna, a city ripe with crime that the Russians had recently moved into. For eighteen years now, he has led that branch, bringing in profit year after year for the Mafia as a whole from the cesspool of a city, bringing in the best around to work under him, turning the place into his personal playground... So long as he kept lining the profits of those back home in Russia, anyway.

Skills:
Alexei is a treestump of a man. During is brief time as an underground fighter, and again during his time as muscle for various criminal groups, he was called "The Wall", and with good reason. He'd been hit by people, stabbed, shot, hit by -trucks-, fallen off of two, even three story buildings... And still gotten back up and kept on swinging. (Admittedly after moderately extended hospital visits in the events of his falls.) Nothing seemed capable of bringing him down for long... And of course, he hit like a train. Originally, there was no real skill behind his fighting. Merely a will to stay on his feet, and a few lucky swings. But over time, he learned, and was taught. Krav Maga, Sambo, Systema, Kickboxing- A little Judo, even, though mostly as an extend of Krav Maga. He learned to shoot guns large and small, became a machine of walking war. Even now, leading from up high, he doesn't let his personal skills grow dull. A true leader, he says, fights in the mud with his men when it is required.

He also has quite the head for business, picked up over time with the Mafia before he became important himself. Well... Illegal business, anyway.

Gear:
In the case that he must get dirty, Alexei keeps himself well armed.

A -pair- of black-metal Desert Eagles. That right. Two fifty cal. handguns on him at any time. All the firepower.

A rather large, and exceedingly sharp, military grade combat knife. He is very fond of it.

His fists. Those count.

A cell phone. With the numbers of every dangerous person in the Russian Mafia on speed dial. Thou shalt use those men available to you.

Other:
Alexei can't drive. It's not that he's not licensed. He literally just never learned to.

Despite having all the power he could possibly dream of now, he's completely forgotten his vows of vengeance against those who beat him in Moscow. He has more important things to think of now... Like how to keep his city running properly to keep his profits up.

New Realna and his Mafia branch mean -everything- to Alexei. -His- city. -His- men. Anybody who tries to 'fix' the city from it's perfectly functional, if crime-ridden state, or who does damage to his people, earns a place on his personal shit list. A list -nobody- wants to be on.

He tends to throw forks at anybody who speaks to him before his morning coffee. Really, he does.

Name:
Arina Lécuyer

Age:
25

Occupation:
Illegal:
Management of all Street Drug Sales
Management of all Street Prostitution
Informant for Mafia

Legal:
Previously: Waitress
Current: Public Relations Officer

Appearance:


Personality:
Arina is a playful type to say the least; modest is not in her vocabulary which makes her unfavourable towards many other females. Manipulative, cunning and very tramp like, Arina would stop at nothing to get what she wants; however, despite her rather amazing yet completely unnecessary gift to make everything she wears look, well, immodest, and her touchy and flirtatious nature, she will fight to the death before she lets an undesired male touch her.

Shallow and sharp-tongued, she’s quick to attack someone’s emotional weakness for her own enjoyment. She’s selfish and will do anything to save herself before she saves another life. However, despite her unlikable nature, if she deems one worthy of her loyalty, she will follow them to the ends of the earth without question. Nevertheless, she will show that trait to anyone and then lead them astray, she’s a hard book to read and is a hellion to have as an enemy; but, if her trust is gained, she’s a good ally. It’s hard to pick which side Arina is on; she doesn’t tend to side with anyone. One day she’ll help someone and the next, she’s working only for herself.

It’s not often she’ll act her age, childish and immature are her normal attributes. She’s incredibly lazy and will bribe others to get what she wants. She doesn’t take much seriously which can often help in serious and life-threatening situations. Calm, cool and collected is her game as it takes a lot for her rage to break.

History:
Arina can’t place her skinny finger on how much she remembers of her childhood nor does she really care to. Unlike many of her comrades, she had the perfect life – she was brought up in a wealthy, well respected home with an angsty older brother, a trophy mother and a strict father. As the daughter of a major corporation CEO, she was given anything she wanted, any time she wanted.

Her mother was a woman who probably should never have had children – the woman probably couldn’t tell the difference between a baby and a potato sack even if she baked them… and she’d still probably manage to blow up the kitchen in the process. Her children were merely for show – to make it look like they were the perfect family. So Arina’s first memories of childhood were with her twin brother and Nanny, who cared for them as her own.

Eventually they grew and while Christopher went away to school and she was left behind – home schooled, and although she had the undivided attention of her Nanny, she still felt alone. With the solitude, she was able to excel in her learning capabilities and by the time it was her time to go to a real school, she was able to maintain good grades along with popularity.

Her Father was a cold man. She knew it wasn’t that he hated her or Christopher, he just didn’t know how to care for anyone other than himself and his company, so she never resented him for that. His children were to be seen and not heard, and she was okay with that.

As she grew into her teens, she was beautiful, popular and intelligent – the perfect daughter of the perfect family. Christopher however, had gone off the rails – he had abandoned all of his extra-curricular activities, he was out all night and sleeping all day. Eventually, after long and tiring arguments with his family, he left home and his parents fundamentally disowned him.

Arina graduated and looked at her prospects for college, however, she made the decision not to go – after an all but random lunch date with her brother whom she hadn’t seen in years. He was doing well for himself; illegally, but it didn’t matter much to her. He offered her a place at his side, working and ensuring order was maintained on the streets. She’s not sure what made her say yes, but she knows she enjoys what she does and the life she leads.

Skills:
Arina is a people reader – she’s great at scoping for the darkest secrets of those around her. She is skilled in karate with a black belt attained. Obviously Arina doesn’t practice her martial art skills so she keeps fit by training in parkour with her brother. She is also a heavy drinker... which she considers to be a skill.

Gear:
At least $5000 cash. For… emergencies…
She always carries three small, sleek flick blades.

Other:
Vigil.
Arina is very ostentatious – try not to hate her too much.
She watches people - anyone and everyone. It's a hobby of hers; she likes to know everyone's dirty little secrets.
She hates guns - she deems them as completely rude and impersonal weapons.

----------

Name:
Christopher Lécuyer

Age:
27

Occupation:
Illegal:
Management of all Street Drug Sales
Management of all Street Prostitution

Legal:
Current: Body Guard

Appearance:


Personality:
Christopher’s pride, one could say his self-importance, stems from his physical qualifications. That is not to say he isn’t with his allures; he’s charming and exceedingly charismatic. Eccentric is a word that best describes his ways. He doesn’t have a tendency to waste time on formalities and official procedures. Pride in himself and his work is evident and respect or reverence isn’t something Christopher possesses for those he does not know and sustains no problem in sharing his dogma.

He has the drollness of a mordant cynic; he’s sarcastic. Christopher sustains a weakness for trouble and should he find none he will craft it himself. Not anything is of worry to him, negligent and blasé, he can bear a great deal before he snaps. However; despite his quirky behaviour and his love for women, Chris isn’t the nicest of men. Unlike his little sister, he takes a side, and sometimes that side can be questionable.

Chris is protective over those he deems his friends; however, those are few and far between – and in the interest of his own goals, he would happily abandon a friend to peruse them. Those he dislikes are well aware of his opinions as he is not one to bite his tongue or hide his negative feelings. His care for his family is limited and he’d happily watch his sister die if he believed she deserved it or if it benefited him in some way.

His fighting style is cheap – he’s not the kind to be noble or show mercy. If finishing the fight sooner means delivering a cheap shot, he has no remorse in his actions. He’ll do anything to win.

History:
Christopher wasn’t treated too terribly as a child. As the first born son of the acclaimed Lécuyer family – so much was expected from him and he wasn’t a fan of following in his father’s footsteps. He always looked to his sister who was treated like a princess and silently resented her for that. If Arina had a distant relationship with their parents, his was non-existent.

His mother only saw him passing through in the manor and every time his father spoke to him, it was telling him to be better. So, as he grew, his disdain for his family was warranted. He was the bad boy in school and was always falling out of line. Making trouble wherever he could. He was expelled from boarding school and had to graduate back in his home town living under the same roof as his family once more.

Police encounters, hospital encounters and more were just a small taste of what he managed to get himself into, and occasionally he’d drag Arina along with him – and every time, she’d get out of whatever punishment that was dealt.

When he left home, he lost contact with everyone – including his kid sister. He took to the streets and found himself involved with people of the roughest sort. He was swept up into the mafia and has been working for them ever since. His people skills tend to gain him more enemies than friends, so when he was sent out to deal with the streets – he asked his sister to join him; hoping she would help ease bad situations.

Skills:
Like his sister, Chris is talented in martial arts, with a black belt attained. He keeps fit by training in parkour with his sister. He’s also a killer cook – funnily enough.

Gear:
Kimber Supercarry Pro Pistol
Aston Martin 310 Vanquish

Other:
Vigil.

Vote:
English Mafia

Name: Kuai Liang

Aliases: Shy Guy, Techie, U.N. Owen

Age: 27

Occupation: As a day job, Kuai is a computers technician at an electronics department store. This is to cover up his Mafia activity, working as the hacker and kingpin of all digital crime and operations within the Mafia.

Appearance:




Personality and History: Generally, Kuai is a quiet man, letting his actions precede him and define him. It goes as far as to define his wealth of intelligence. Kuai is very calculative and observant, to boot. He's always had an affinity and almost a preference to technology, leading some to call him Shy Guy.
There was nothing that people know of that would lead Kuai to pursue a life of crime behind his normal life. Some people speculate that it's merely on a whim to be a bad boy. In fact, that's what he tells everyone. No ulterior motive. No goals. No aspirations. He just does it, and takes his cut happily. Though, some suspect he owes the Mafia, and agreed to be their hacker as payment, taking a percentage of his cut each time they get a take of money.

Skills and Gear: Kuai is a gifted tech nerd and hacker, able to do nearly anything comprehensible with a computer and leaving no trace for investigators to follow. He also operates well under constant pressure.
Kuai has his smartphone always on him, and has computers set up in his little base, as he likes to call it. Totes around a simple handgun and knife just in case, though, he doesn't tend to get out much while he's on the job. Drives a black Audi S8.

Other: Vigil

Name: Lucas Arran Green
AKA "The Trident"

Age: 29

Occupation:
By day, Lucas Green is a Private Investigator, a man that works on a contractual basis to help people with finding things out, that would otherwise be tricky to do so. Finding out about cheating partners, or if a problem child has turned to drugs. Simple things. Things that anyone could do, with a sharp mind and a knowledge of how the streets work, with this being a job that doesn't pay well. It's not something that puts him in harm's way, and Lucas is just fine with that. Because it covers his black mirror well.

That black mirror is his work as a Vigilante. As "Trident", he tends to work in the shadows, and works day or night, knowing when and where to hit. He will do whatever it takes to bring down the Mafia. The police won't do anything. So he does. He's got a lot of weaponry, a lot of experience, and most of all, he knows that he has nothing left to lose now. He's previously destroyed Meth Labs, eliminated (this terminology specific) high profile underbosses and Capos, and left corrupt businesses to burn. He can extort, kill or destroy targets of value to certain people in the Russian Mafiya quite well.

Appearance:
Lucas is built well, as you would expect a one-man war against the Mafia to be. He stands about 6"1, and has a shaved head, with brown hair shaved almost completely short. A thorned rose tattoo sits on his upper arm, while a complicated colored Trident, perhaps from his military days, sits on his back. He has green eyes and a broken nose, with a very lightly tanned complexion. This is the type of man that doesn't rely on pure strength alone to win a fight- whilst well built, his athletic frame isn't that of a powerhouse, but more of a faster, agile, and hard-hitting physique that can deliver a blow with precision, rather than a blunt response.

When working as a private investigator, he can usually be seen with a grey suit, with a black pair of wrapround Oakley sunglasses over his eyes, but as Trident, things are little different. A black, blue and grey thermal bandit usually covers his mouth and nose, with a black Beanie combining well with this. He wears a black woolen jumper, and a pair of black combat trousers, a lightweight Dragonskin vest sitting below his woolen jumper. A simple pair of black gloves, frequently cleaned to keep any fingerprints off, as well as a lightweight rucksack with any kit required to conduct his sabotage of the Mafia's activities can usually be seen on Lucas, if you somehow see him without being shot or stabbed dead.

History:
Lucas was born on the West Coast of the US, born to Californian teacher for a mother, and an English welder for a father. An unorthodox relationship, but he got on well with his parents at first as an only child, aspiring to be like his Cousin, who had joined the US Marines. He saw potential in himself to join up, and while not doing too great at school, he had a talent for athletics, and generally, enjoyed the vibe that he saw. Academia wasn't for him, but he saw that there was something different, a practical path. He enjoyed the outdoors when he was little, and was brought up in a fairly stable house, for most of his young life. His parents divorced when he was 16, but by this point, he was fairly independent, living in his own flat by the time he joined the Services. This said, the disillusionment, and sudden separation of his parents did leave a gap in his upbringing, and he began to become self-reliant on his own self.

He joined the US Navy, working as a Onboard Weapons Specialist on a Frigate, though his higher ups wanted to see this young man's potential used somewhere better. At this point, Lucas was gearing himself up to serve in the Navy's Football (or Soccer team, fine) team, and had a great potential to do something different. A year of grueling training, and he found himself thrown into the Navy Seals, ST1 to be specific. Lucas was deployed twice to Afghanistan, and other covered files are still held by the government, with black bars covering at least a good four paragraphs of operational deployment history. This, isn't that interesting. Any special forces operator could be renowned for this, and that would be the end of the story. But Lucas Green, upon leaving the Navy Seals at the rank of Lieutenant, found himself at a crossroads.

He returned to New Realna, somehow a little desensitized to civilian life. There was no more risk. No more exitement, no more rushes. A friend from the Navy Seals, Kevin, brought him into the scene of drug dealing. From here, Lucas got his rush that he wanted, selling narcotics ranging from Es to Xs, Skunk to Cocaine, in illicit quantities. It was never anything big in his life, and Lucas made it his priority to stay away from taking it. The money wasn't even the reason, it was just the sheer excitement. At this point, he had set up a private investigator's bureau with loaned money received from the Navy, and was planning on quitting. One more deal, a small, simple affair with another group that would distribute it to a group of Crackheads. But these sorts of things, they never go easily.

The death of Kevin during his last deal was what got him, and it was from a rival group, one that had done it for something shamefully low. It was for $500. That was simply it. Nothing more, nothing less. It was a sickening turn of events, and Lucas looked back on what he had been. It was a disgusting parallel to the honorable serviceman he had been years ago. And he wanted to find redemption. His family wouldn't give him any, nor would whatever he had left. So he went and forged his own, doing what he did best. Lucas found the man that had done it, and burned his house down, dragging his charred remains out in front of a drug den, somehow breaking that idea in his head. The point had been proved. He left a simple note on his body. This wasn't a rival gang that had retaliated. It was cleansing by fire. The Trident had struck. And they had reason to be afraid. Now, it was an eye for an eye.

Lucas realized a war on crime in the city would need a different approach. The police were too corrupt, and too indirect if they did act. Nobody real was going to prison. The horrible people, those that tortured, raped, murdered innocent people. On the streets, Lucas looked like a tough cookie, but he himself had come close to being mugged when conducting an Investigation, and saw what it took to take on the criminals. Understood what they had brought about in New Realna, and that nothing short of utter ruthlessness would be a response that they would understand. He realized that nothing would avenge Kevin, but that was beyond the point. Something had to be done. So why put his life on the line? Because he realized, in that moment, that the power of greed and money had brought the city to corruption and near collapse. That people like him were wasting away, just watching. He went to sleep hearing gunshots and screams in the night, and knew that this was where he stepped in. Where he stopped the Mafia, and if the Cops wouldn't do anything, he would. He didn't have to rot, and Lucas was able to make change happen. Very fast, that those little actions that he did had far reaching consequences that made the Mafia pay. Made people stop living in fear, start being less scared of walking in neighborhoods. Bit by bit, gang by gang. Able to find arms through contacts of his, as well as specialized equipment not commonly found in the hands of most, Lucas set about fixing New Realna. One dead mobster at a time. There was no limits to be left on Lucas.

Personality:

Lucas is a cold hearted bastard on the outside, and bitter, this being something that you'd expect from a man disillusioned with the world, living in the aftermath of the death of his friend and isolation from his family, following his parents' divorce. The SEALs taught him a way of life he regrets leaving, and looks for anything to fill that gaping hole that is left. He has a certain sense of principle, and honor, something that money or other assets do not sway for him. To Lucas, there is no way of reclaiming what was left of him, but he simply wants to do something right, justifying the horrible things he does by reminding himself it would be better it happens to them than someone who never did anything wrong in their lives. He is calm and collected when confronted with a problem, almost fearless when it comes to simply just keeping himself in order, and lashing out when needs be. Lucas doesn't mind having to go loud, or do something radical, to remind himself he is more than capable of conducting a task. He seems to just think things over, just process, and then act. A machine like organism, though from time to time, he can be seen having a smoke. This said, he has a softer side that very few know, of a deeper self-reflection, and a somewhat positive outlook on the future.

Skills and Gear:
Lucas is a dangerous individual, and whilst you could poke holes in some of the things he does, he's still utterly devout to being the light in the shadows. Being a former Special Forces operator, Lucas has a wide variety of skills, a jack of all trades and a master of only a few. He's a talented shooter, skilled with a variety of weaponry, western or eastern, as well as being talented in Krav Maga fighting, something that he hones well in beating the living shit and beyond from thugs. Combined with modified Systema and his talent with a knife, Lucas can take on a small group of thugs and win, putting his counterattacks and moves in precisely the most hurting places. He has a good talent on bikes and cars, and good urban survival techniques, also being able to breathe for extended periods underwater- with his personal best being around three minutes under. RTT techniques, and a high level of athleticism are two other features that are also things that Lucas maintains, being able to sustain a fairly nasty level of torture (depending on your definition), with the latter giving him an edge in running and keeping pace. Of late, Lucas has also turned to improvised bomb making, using Semtex and illicitly sourced PE4, though to make a bigger bang, he still needs to go through the right channels of his contacts. Coercion, and social manipulation are on the list, though of course, this isn't his strongest point. He takes a militaristic approach to the streets- and tends to prefer only taking confrontation on when he knows he has the upper hand. Otherwise, he waits until that moment. Hacking isn't his specialty, nor is his ability to easily disguise into a crowd- though to some extent, he can keep himself out of trouble very well in the right context. Hiding and staying in the shadows is what he prefers to stick to, or going in loud.

Weaponry wise, he has a few different choices to make. Here are his main types of weapons that he prefers to use. More equipment is to be specified.

-Heavy Counter Assault Rifle (HCAR)
-.30-06 Springfield
-EOTech 552 Holographic Sight X 3X Magnifier
-Magpul VFG Foregrip
-Magpul CTR Stock
-Surefire Mini Monster Silencer

-For when a modern 7.62 cartridge isn't enough, a modernized BAR is. Firing an old-school .30-06 Springfield, it has a serious kick, but it is lethal in Lucas's hands, being a distinct weapon that Lucas enjoys using.

-Kimber M1911
-.45.ACP
-Surefire Silencer
-Tritium Night Sights

-For when a normal M1911 isn't enough, again, get a Special Forces variant and add a silencer.

-Tomahawk
-Throwable, or blunt-hit-you-in-the-face-able.

-Dive Knife
-A relic of Lucas's from his time in the SEALs, this dive knife is an excellent stealth tool.

-Yamaha R1
This is a mainstay of Lucas's fast transport. Lucas has realized that in Realna, you have to get from Point A to Point B, very, very quickly. Cars can get caught in traffic, and public transport is out the window. Whilst perhaps not the best for protection, it is excellent for hit and run work.

-Modified Audi RS7
However, when point A to point B is sometimes needing in a little more horsepower, then this is the vehicle of choice for Lucas, as well as a daily for his investigation work. A modified 600bhp four litre V8 sits under the bonnet, and has blacked out glass, with the tyres being modified Run Flats, and being equipped with a reinforced chassis. On the outside, it looks completely normal, unless you notice the badge. Underneath, this piece of German engineering is far beyond that.

Other:

Lucas's favorite type of music is likely to be Classic Rock, something he picked up off his dad in his early teens. That's everything from Pink Floyd to Led Zep, and others. Not a massive fan of rap.

Lucas's more extreme line of work have a matching extreme line of hobbies. BASE jumping is one, as well as free diving, as well as sometimes giving the police a run for their money on the highway. While he punishes those who break the law, he can have his fair share of a few.

Vigil.

Name: Mark Winters (Streak was his old nick)

Age:37

Occupation:
Illegal:
* Body treatment disposal.
* Torture service comes free of charge.
Legal:
* Previously: Bike mechanic
* Current: 'Junkyard technician'

Appearance:
* 188cm, tall strong and muscular build.
* Tattoos line his entire body.
* Hair is black with a red streak on the right.

Photo is slightly not safe for work due to male nipple exposure.


Personality:
* In three words - wild, cocky, doesn't give a shit.

History:
Mark first started in vandalism and looting stores, setting fire to the ones that pissed him off. Not belonging to any particular group back then, he quickly found himself in jail for property damage and theft. When he got out, he took to cagefighting where he met his current boss, apparently by accidentally squirting a large amount of his opponent's blood onto the Boss.

(History subject to change depending on which Mafia we decide on)

Skills:
* Body disposal
* Torture
* Theft
* Vandalism
* Beating shit out of people for fun

Gear:
* Favourite baseball bat
* Desert Eagle
* MP5
* Ducati
* Equipment used for torture, mutilation and disposal. Vivisection if he feels mean.

Other: Vigil.
* Mark likes boobs. But be warned, those who RP as a guy. If you make your guy too sexy and alluring, you'll start to find that Mark has the hots for you. He'll understand a solid 'no' of course. That being said, he currently has no romantic interest, unless the bike counts.
* When Mark gets drunk he starts talking to the wall! Please don't film him.
* Mark can't dance.
* Don't go near the junkyard dogs. He feeds them human meat. You're human meat. Those are cheap chains.

Name: James Zhukov

Age: 32

Occupation:
Legal:
- Former: Mechanic.
- Current: Chauffeur & bodyguard at the same time.

Illegal:
- Wheelman.

Appearance:



Personality: Respectful, open-minded, nice with women, loyal to his friends and to the mafia of course, fearless almost to the point of stupidity. He dosen't let his work for the mafia define how he is as a person. While behind the wheel for the mafia James is on point, serious and unshakeable but outside of that he is a really nice person.

History: Born from a russian father and an american mother James lost his mother after she died because of some complications resulting after James's birth. Initially wanting to pursue a career as a professional MMA fighter, he trained in MMA as a teenager, but after his father died while he was performing a dangerous stunt on a dirt bike for an audience, James felt heart broken and wanted to dissapear. Which is exactly what he did. He took his car and whatever belongings he had and left the city that he and his father were living in. He eventually arrived in New Realna and after giving it some thought, he decided to settle there. He made money by participating in street races where he proved to be a real talent, winning race after race and earning a fierce reputation. That's how he met his current boss too. He came to the races to look for talented drivers and became very interested in James. After a meeting, James accepted his offer. That was seven years ago and he's been working for the mob ever since.

Besides the mafia, James also works for Michael Diaz, a cuban-american, owner of an import-export company and former acquaintance of James's father. Last year he offered James a job as his chauffeur, and James quickly accepted, mostly because the pay was better then the car shop he was working at the time, and because he even offered James a car both for personal use and to perform his duties with. James also moved at Diaz's mansion and lives there. In the last few months, he shifted from working for Diaz to looking after his 29 year old daughter, Maria. One night after coming out of a club she was attacked by some thugs. Her bodyguard died defending her and the thugs wanted to kidnap her. Luckily James was on the scene and finally made good use of his MMA training, beating the hell out of the kidnappers. After that episode Diaz entrusted James with protecting his daughter and also taking care of her driving needs, while he would just hire another chauffeur for himself.

Skills: James is an insanely skilled driver and an even better mechanic, able to fix a car regardless of the problem. He can even tune them too, if modifications are necesary. His mixed martial arts training that he recieved as a teenager also make him a pretty damn good asskicker too.

Gear:
- Springfield TRP 1911 handgun. He also has a holster & a dual magazine carrier for it.
- A pair of knuckle dusters;
- Mercedes-Benz CLA 45 AMG: This car was given to James by his real life boss, Diaz, when he first started working for him. He said that this is his car, that it's bulletproof and despite the luxurious look it's still an "AMG" so it's very performant. He also said that James can use this car both for daily driving and to perform his duties to him as his chauffeur.
- 1970 Dodge Charger R/T Hemi: This car has a story. James came one day with it at Diaz's mansion and parked it in the garage next to Diaz's other cars. No one really asked him what's up with the car and why he brought it here aside from Diaz. James only said that the car belongs to him not giving all the details and asked him if he minds if he keeps it here. Diaz said he dosen't mind and the car stood there ever since. James drove it from time to time.
Other:
- He preffers to drive with gloves on his hands.
- Vigil

Name: Austin Martin

Age: 35

Occupation:
Legal: General Repair man: owner of a small but somewhat successful shop in the suburbs. Was a former Marine marksmen, not a sniper, as he didn't have the eye for it, but a Marksmen, firing mid to short range in the thick of combat.

Illegal: Fixer: Runs a highly lucrative Fixing operation out of one of the small warehouses he uses to store things for the shop. Runs guns, armor, explosives and ammunition out of the warehouse thanks to a great deal of old connections he has from his Marine days. Old friends "losing" a shipment of weapons or ammo and shunting it over to him. For that service they get a cut of his revenue from the Fixing.

On and Off again Operator: Though he was discharged from the military honorably and given his walking ticket, he still retains the skills of his Marine past. Still able to handle a weapon, and is quite a decent shot still.

Appearance:

Standing a nice decent five foot ten inches tall. With a Thick set body, muscle under a layer of slight fat. A big bushy beard and thick mustache graces his cheeks and chin. Makes him look like a big ol' bear. He tends to wear very common clothing. Short sleeved t-shirts, with this or that logo for this or that company, show or movie. With a variety of khaki pants and shorts. A single nose piercing through his nostrils. He perpetually has a disarming smile on his face. With a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Personality: Kind, warm, gentle, cuddly almost. He loves to laugh, loves to joke, always has a kind word on his lips. And speaks in a gentle way. He's continually donating money to charity, and helping the homeless. He's a paragon of his community and is so very well received among friends. This carries over atleast partially to his more illegal business. His customers are a very unique clique. Mostly mercenaries and people who don't want to go through proper channels. But even then Austin goes out of his way to be helpful and cheerful. Even going out of his way to get the really hard goods that his clients might need.

History: Oh what do you say about the average guy? Austin did his time through his schooling like alot of people did. He did okay in his marks, and really didn't distinguish himself. Even when he joined the Marines he was average, didn't stand out in many ways. He was given the role of Marksman in his unit. He proved to be rather good at it. Not to distinct, he made an okay recon and spotter. And did his fair share in conflicts that his unit were sent too. He did score some kills while out there. Out beyond 400 meters usually. But never beyond 600. He left those for the snipers.

When he left the military he came back to civilian land and drifted for abit. He had married during his time in the military, and had two kids. A boy and a girl. His wife and kids welcomed him home with open arms. When he went opened his shop his family was a little surprised but still happy. For about a year they were unknowing of his other business. Then his wife found out. And through her his kids. Amazingly enough they were not angry, or scared. In fact they thought it was fine that the father figure in the house had a second income. Strange people coming and going at their house sometimes. Odd shipments arriving at the store warehouse. A time or two Austin came home covered in blood. His wife instead of being scared would help him clean up.

So what can you say about the average guy? It's always the quiet ones.

Skills:
- Small business acumen, runs his own business
- Black Marketeer, has his eyes and ears on the underground market. Small time though so as not to make some people notice him.
- Decent Shooter, Using marksmen rifles, assault rifles and pistols. He can hit a target in the chest at 400 meters almost everytime. Up to 600 and it's hit or miss.
Gear:
- HK417 Recon, the sixteen inch barrel accurized mid range rifle. Firing 7.62 rounds, usually with Armor piercing rounds. A C79 3.4x scope attached, Muzzle break and green tri-beam visible light laser sight. Carries eight clips.
- Taurus "Raging" Judge revolver, 6 inch barrel, chambered in .45 colt. Simply put one hell of a side arm. Carries ten small speedloaders.
- One handed beaked style war hammer. Forged cold steel with a reinforced steel handle.
- Hornets Nest grenade, containing about 20 compressed hard rubber balls. Tends to carry five of these awesome little grenades.
- Combat vest with combat webbing attached. Plenty room for ammo and kit. The vest has a little armoring just in case.
- Ice climbing axes, and 50 meters of paracord for short quick decents off buildings.
- His ride...the family minivan, or well the one that his wife hasn't tricked out for her use anyway.

Other:

- Vigil, yeah I saw it. Vigil...fucking Vigil! (spot the reference)
- Won't take just any customer, they need to prove they aren't going to try to betray him.
- His family is made up of his wife Kerri, his son Everet and his daughter Lacie. They also have a security trained doberman going by the name of Astro, who really a softie at heart, and just absolutely loves the kids.