Real Name: Lou Willard

Nickname/Codename/Alias: Green

Allegiance: The Tigers

Gender: Male

Age: 35

Appearance: A man of average height and average build. Though he's neither small nor thin, he gives off a slightly waifish impression with his dusty-colored hair and sun-starved skin. His face is angular, his countenance stoic and unvaried. By default, he assumes a mien of unaffected boredom, often with a touch of irritation. Very rarely will he break from this mold, although when he does it is usually to indulge in an expression of exasperation or unease. [1] Manifestations of joy seem to be completely missing from his repertoire of facial expressions. A smiling Lou is a herald of Armageddon.

Lou tends to dress professionally. Suits, ties, slacks. Sometimes trench coats. But while his attire tends to be smart, his posture and demeanor is decidedly not. Comparable to a human sloth, Lou moves slowly, in trudging motions, hands in pockets, oftentimes dragging his feet. His spine curves oddly at the top, giving him a perpetual slouch. Completing the look is a set of thick, round glasses that obscure half-lidded green eyes. He doesn't resemble a professional of any kind; nor does he look anything like a gang member, for that matter. The only indication of his affiliation with the Tigers is the tattoo of the gang insignia on his inner right forearm, which he usually covers up.

[1] Interestingly, the frequency of these lapses seems to be directly proportional to the amount of time spent interacting with other Tigers.

Personality: Lou is really lazy, which might seem paradoxical given the methodical way he performs his job. As odd as it sounds, his laziness actively contributes to his productivity—he doesn't want to do too much work, so he's always striving to find the path that gives maximum output with minimum input. Hence the hyper-efficiency.

When he was younger, Lou was more nervous, more high-strung. Ironically, life with the Tigers has mellowed him out—or perhaps a better word would be desensitized. When one lives with a group of psychopaths, there's no room for squeamishness. You either join them in their lunacy, or you grow a spine. And by God did Lou grow a spine. These days he's one of the most psychologically stable members, the person least likely to suddenly snap and kick off a happy murdering spree.

That doesn't mean he's devoid of his own collection of neuroses, however. For someone who loves to relax in bed and just sleep, he's surprisingly bad at it. Sometimes his mind just goes on overdrive, and he thinks and thinks and can't stop, and random flashes of memory crop up here and there, and strings of numbers add and subtract and go on and on and on…

He becomes irritable, and sarcastic, and prone to complaining. A lot. To anyone who will listen. All in all, not a fun person to deal with.

Personal History: A lifetime resident of Fort Blackburn, Lou Willard grew up in the Freehold Hills to the northwest. His family was very well-to-do, easily able to afford the various luxuries of the modern era. Lou was blessed with an effortless childhood. He breezed through school, easily retaining knowledge that other children found hard to remember. His parents, delighted to be able to show off such an intelligent child to their social circle, showered him with gifts and indulgences. Young Lou never found it hard to make friends, either, with everyone clamoring to get close to the smart kid with the wealthy parents.

Everything changed when Lou entered the local university. College life was so different from grade school, simultaneously harder and easier, but in the worst ways possible. Harder, because the material was much more advanced and in-depth, requiring an acute and intuitive understanding of theory that Lou—accustomed as he was to easy success via rote memorization—did not possess. Easier, because there was freedom in college life, more freedom than he knew what to do with. His work ethic plummeted, and his grades went belly-up. Desperately wanting success but not wanting to work for it, Lou broke the academic honesty policy and was expelled for it.

With no other college that would accept him and no company that would hire him, seventeen-year-old Lou ended up stranded at his parents' home with nowhere to go. A year later, his furiously disappointed parents disowned him and kicked him out, and now he really had nowhere to go.

It was apparent that the lawful world had no place for a barely-legal teenager with no connections, so Lou sought refuge elsewhere. He found himself traveling south, to murkier waters. In his wanderings, he stumbled upon a popular casino deep within South East End. It was (perhaps ironically) named the North Star, and it soon became something of a haven to him. He had his reservations at first; gambling was something he'd been raised to avoid, and everyone knew that the dangers far outweighed the potential gains. But then he realized that that was only true if he played by their rules, and he didn't have to play by their rules, did he? He was sucked in. He started gambling, developed a fondness for blackjack. Armed with an observant eye and a photographic memory, Lou became very adept in cheating the system. Card steering. Shuffle tracking. Ace sequencing. Gambling was a dangerous game, but it was one that appealed to his deepest nature—laziness. There was overwhelming payout to be had for very little effort…if he played his cards right.

He was fine for a few months. Win some, lose some, win a little more. Business as usual. But then one night his card counting got a bit too aggressive, inadvertently attracting the eye of the faculty. As it turned out, the North Star was owned by the Vipers, a criminal gang that used the casino as an operating site for drug trafficking. Impressed with Lou's counting skills, the Vipers offered him a choice: lend his services to the gang, or die in a hole. Lou chose the former.

Thus began his stint as a Viper member. At first, he mostly helped run security. Cheaters were good at spotting other cheaters, after all. It was actually more dangerous than it sounded—the North Star Casino was a hub for criminal activity, a popular place for gangs to make transactions and an outlet for money laundering schemes. Patrons tended toward the darker end of the violence spectrum, and more than once Lou would find himself at the business end of someone's weapon. Which was a problem, because Lou Willard was useless as a combatant. He tripped at crucial moments, had slow reflexes, and couldn't aim a gun to save his life. He became known in the gang as "Green"—green for inexperience, green for naiveté.

Jeering aside, the Vipers weren't about to throw away free labor, so they tossed him into accounting. The North Star's financial reckoning was extremely complicated. There was the official, legitimate casino front. Then there was the revenue generated from transaction fees—very illegal, and very profitable. To top it off, there were also the Viper's own back-room operations—again, both lucrative and illegal. At first, it all was a bit of a nightmare to handle, but Lou was a quick learner. And he was good at it. Very, very good. Slowly, the formerly derisive moniker of "Green" morphed into something of genuine respect. Green was no longer about stupidity or uselessness. Green was money. Green was skill.

The years passed, and there came whisperings of something new on the horizon. A mysterious new group, whose members called themselves the Tigers, was spreading its influence all over South East End. The Vipers bristled and hissed, suspicious that these Tiger upstarts might try to usurp their territory. They were right to be nervous. As one of the major trading centers of the underground world, the casino was a powerful asset to whichever group controlled it. It wasn't long before the leader of the Tigers turned his covetous eye upon the North Star, and chaos ensued.

That day was filled with fighting and yelling and blood and ice. In the end, the Tigers' viciousness overcame the Vipers' experience and turf advantage. It was pure luck that Lou was spared from the carnage; he had been filing papers in one of the inner offices when the battle erupted. By the time he was discovered, much of the Tigers' bloodlust had been sated and he was able to talk himself out of a bleak future as a bloody smear on the wall.

Thus, Green the Viper became Green the Tiger. He's been working with them ever since.

Powers, Weapons, Ect.: Green has an eidetic memory—total recall of images, sounds, and scents. Where most would use a computer, Green uses his brain. This method may seem unreliable, but it's actually pretty beneficial to the gang's informational security. In an era where hackers run rampant, it isn't always safe to digitalize everything. Good old fashioned paper is another medium that hackers can't easily access, and something that Green makes good use of.

Within the Tigers, Green is in charge of logistics, making sure all the missions are carried out on time, all the money adds up correctly, all the stock is accounted for. Most of all, he's the guy in charge of covering up the Tigers' money trail, converting dirty cash into quasi-legitimate, usable funds. His memory makes it easy to keep track of things that would otherwise be hopelessly complicated, and the result is a stereotypical vision of the perfect accountant—scarily organized, hyper-efficient, and knows everything about everyone.

As for weapons, he carries a small handgun. Despite his lack of aiming abilities, it's useful for intimidation. And even Lou can't miss when the target is two feet away.

Weaknesses: Definitely not combat-oriented. Lou has two left feet. The only people he can, with confidence, defeat in a physical altercation are small children and quadriplegics.

His eidetic memory does not mean he's hyper-observant. He sometimes overlooks crucial details because he isn't focused enough to notice them. His memory is not infallible, either, and can be negatively affected by things like drugs and alcohol.

He's an insomniac, and is often tired, grumpy and unfocused as a result.

Any additional information we should know: Stimulants like caffeine make his mind go haywire, so he tends to avoid things like coffee and tea.