Name:
Elijah Powell - goes by 'Chef'

Age:
17

Gender:
Male

Appearance:


At 240 pounds and standing at 6'0", Elijah is a bit on the chubby side. Most of his weight is in his lower body, though, so he wears it well.

Personality:
He does not care about anything regarding the Rabins. In his mind, he doesn't even acknowledge that there's a war going on, and any time someone mentions fighting, they're immediately met with a 'whatever, man' or 'not my business'. He does care for his people, though, and at the moment those are the Broms.

He gives zero sympathy to people who get hurt doing something he thinks is stupid or pointless, like running off and trying to murder folks.

The one thing he gets really, really riled up about, though, is the thought of his people dying of starvation, exposure, or sickness when there's something that can be done about it. That sort of thing is his berserk button, more or less, and when he gets mad about it, everyone knows it.

Rank:
Fighter. Technically.

Group:
Brom

Animal:
Wombat

Weapon and Fighting Style:
A frying pan. A wooden ladle. Forks. Cleaver. Bread knife. Carving knife. A cast-iron cauldron (great for bludgeoning). Chili powder.

Pretty much everything in his cooking kit, more or less. He very much dislikes fighting, because it's a total waste of time, he feels - especially if things can be settled over a good meal and a drink. If he does have to fight, he tries to end it as quickly as possible with no regard for honor, reason, or humanity.

Recent History:
Graduated high school a semester early, but there were no real jobs available in his hometown, and his family wasn't exactly in condition to take care of him at all. He did a little bit of general contracting here and there, but ended up homeless regardless due to his inability to get an apartment or house.

Now, just months away from what would've been his proper transition to adulthood, he's trying to live off the land and everything in his shopping cart - in Brom territory. He has yet to be found.