Alias: Big Big
Race: Human...barely.
Sex: Male.
Class: Grunt/ Hitter
Equipment:
A Tommy Gun with an extra disc of ammo.
A magnum with six shots.
Golden spiked knuckle dusters.
A Newspaper he uses as a Millwall Brick
Abilities: Decent Shot: Big Big like the sound of guns and has been using them for a long time. He ain't no dead eye but he got the guts to use a weapon effectively. Chances are he'll hit his target 50% of the time and he will rarely ever be too effected by recoil even after sustained shooting.
Thick Skull: BigBig is a freak of nature for his size. He moves like he's got cement transfusion for his blood and he feels like it too. He grunts dismissively at getting stabbed and can take even the what would normally concuss or break bones for most folks with little impairment or fatalities. Of course, he is still human and slicing him open will mess him up dead.
Big Fists: The joy of Big Big is when he gets to finally wallop the whacko that decided it was a good idea to pick a fight with a freight train in an identity crisis. He hits like a motor bike forgot to break. Breaking wood in single swipes and denting tin, iron and sometimes even steel if he gets a direct hit. Of course, his knuckles bleed but he won't notice until the night after.
Simple Minded: BigBig follows orders and has simple desires. He simply too stupid to trick, as contradictory as that might sound. He's not open to deal, most attempts to play games with him will simply lead to him punching you anyway. His orders are his track. It's one thing he's good at. Following orders. Although, he lacks any slyness himself. So don't expect any sudden traps or charisma from him either.
Fighting Style: Approach. Draw your gun faster. Punch if you can. Grab if you can. Do all of those until target is dead. This isn't a personality contest. Boss say tenderize the tourists and that's, that. No bribes. No bullshit.
Personality: Big Big is the very definition of simple. He dosen't understand big words or even most concepts. He is almost entirely a visual learner and he will quickly get confused at charts, grafts or anything that is abstract to what he normally sees. He has a list of desires, most of them shallow from cute girls, big bucks and bigger muscles but he lacks any of the intelligence or charm to articulate any of them. Normally leading him to simply carry on and do his job than even attempt to do so. His biggest need is guidance, bigbig doesn't get the idea of the long game.
He knows if he takes your walletknow, he now has a wallet. He knows there are folks with thinking that go beyond the next week. Big Big knows he's too stupid to function without them, he's so used to abuse by the brains in his organization that he considers insults a part of communication now. As such, he's stoic. You can't hurt bigbig, he knows what he is. He know what he is set out to do. He may not know the consequence but he knows he wants a better life and the ability to keep stuff simple. As loyal as a bulldog, but not as smart.
Wish: James Bond-nickname- says get the wish machine and get him the wish. BigBig follows order.
Appearance: Height: 7.2
Weight: 130 KGs
BigBig walks about in the classical attire of the age old gangster. A brown, oaken suit with stripes of chocolate leading horiziontally across his frame from jacket to trousers. Under it he wears a burgundy waist coat and a black formal shirt. His head carries a simple fedora hat that dresses his upper head in shadow, leaving only his hard jaw bone to the view of those looking up. His entire frame is hidden by his clothes, although the fine bulges can be seen by the subtle eye, threatening to burst out of his tight clothes.
Lurches posture is straight and disciplined. His skin is sun bathed, indicating many frequent visits to beaches and vacations in his spare time although his native color is a paler white typical of western Europe.
Frenzy: His the same overall although his eyes suddenly glare out of the darkness of his eye in a bloody rage. His muscles also bulge out even more, causing occasional black specks of his under shirt to peek out. His knuckles however square up, becoming harder with small prints of red dust spattering across them.
