Name: Charles "Puffer" November
Age: 31
Year of Death: 1986
Method of Death: Plain old complications from lung cancer.
Crimes: Three murders of innocents as a hired assassin.
Appearance:Weapon: I'm best with the sniper rifle, but that's probably not the most practical weapon in close quarters, so I'd be fine with a knife.
Backstory: I was a sniper in Vietnam, and when the war ended, I didn't exactly have the accolades and experience to get any fancy jobs, and became a bartender. One thing led to another and I started smoking heavily, to socialize and blend in with the crowd there. And, as it so happened, this unfortunate life decision led to me developing lung cancer. The moment I saw the diagnosis, I decided that I really, really like the idea of not dying, and went searching for a treatment. As it happens, there was a procedure that could've saved my life, but I was never going to afford it with my bartender wage. So what's a former sniper to do... well, become an interlope, a hitman, a paid assassin, of course! I didn't really feel good about what I was doing... my missions usually involved taking out CEO's and bankers, nobody actually evil, but every time, I kept reminding myself that it was worth it, that I was a survivor, and this happened to be my only chance at survival. Unfortunately, in a...probably deserved... twist of fate, my third contractor somehow managed to find a loophole that allowed him to not pay me. I could... almost pay for the procedure; but almost is not good enough. And so, I was left for dead in a shitty, badly-equipped public hospital.
Height and Weight: 1,85 m, 82 kg