Apparel: When not in his armor, Ekrom wears the standard garb of the Drell, a high collared and wide chest affair. The material is light so it the user is kept cool, but fits to the form. The sleeves end in gloves, making the shirt one seamless piece.
Equipment: Chameleon Omni-Tool, Savant X
Personality: Ekrom is fiercely spiritual, a characteristic falling out of the trend for the modern-day Drell. Even with such beliefs however, he never held the Hanar in high-esteem, leaving their service as soon as the Compact would permit. He approaches everything logically, but that has never detracted from a wry sense of humor and a familiar tone to any he would call comrade. Not one to suffer deception, especially self-deception, he is straightforward and will speak his opinion whether requested or not.
Ekrom was like any other drell for 21 years, being the Hanars' deadly hand in the galaxy. The drell was sent on missions most would never come back from, but Ekrom is a survivor. After nearly a decade and a half of active service in the Compact, Ekrom's luck finally ran out. His team of four other drells were sent into a hostile area of space, where batarian pirates had regularly intercepted and stolen hanar trade ships. After locating the pirates' ship frequency, the drell task force made their move.
As soon as they came out of the FTL jump, everything went to hell. A second pirate ship pulled out from the shadow of a nearby gas giant which had masked its signal. Ekrom's ship's engine were compromised with the first shot, cutting off any hope of escape. Before his men could get to the escape pods, a second shot tore a whole in the hull close to the air lock where his team had waited for infiltration. They never had a chance as the vacuum of space tore apart the ship's metal shell as easy as a wet piece of paper. Ekrom sprinted to the only workable space pod, struggling to pull himself by various beams and consoles. Finally, he managed to get strapped in and escaped, reaching an FTL jump with only a second to spare. He had the honor of watching his ship explode before his pod took him to safety.
Inconsolable, Ekrom cursed the hanar and their missions. He renounced his active status in the Compact and fled to Omega, putting his prodigious skills, upgrades, and talents to work. He'd not been the normal drell, trained instead for front-line and high risk fighting. Most were wetwork specialist, taking advantage of the eidetic memory common to all drell. Ekrom's genetic coding showed a high compatibility with body enhancement technology. With heavy skin upgrades and extensive heavy muscle weaves, his endurance and strength rival a male krogan in his prime. This allows him to use the devastating Claymore shotgun while keeping the bones in his arm intact. Furthermore, the hanar bought the very best of biotic implants for Ekrom, their prodigy, allowing him to use the legendary biotic ability, Biotic Charge.
Titan settled into a friendly looking tavern where the food smelled like it was well seasoned. He settled down to a cold drink and a hot meal, but not before activating his Gear that accompanied JG. It seemed she had fallen in with a strange girl and the man Seto. That man was mercurial at best and Titan hoped for Seto's sake that the man's intentions were honest, for once. "Activate Gear A-12, audio and visual communication." With this the Gear would stop in front of JG and project a small hologram of his visage. "JG! I'm glad you made it safety. Akkina has been saved and the others should be leaving the manor in short order. Are you alright, suffer any injuries?" He purposely moved away his Interface for a moment, pulling down his face cover and taking a long quaff from his tankard. He replaced it and showed his face to the Gear once more. "Has Seto been treating you with respect?" He heard the crunch of a large bite of an apple, noting JG's satisfied face. Rafael realized that he had never treated her to the meal he had promised.
@The Slenderman For Titan, Philomel is a part of the group and the post was written so he wouldn't be followed. Also, since your character was involved in a time paradox and struck with amnesia, he wouldn't know of Titan's real name? Or what? It isn't really clear as to what Philomel does or doesn't know in regards to the amnesia.
WHICH IS RAFAEL. WITH AN F.
Why does everyone keep getting that messed up? -_- it's on his CS guys.
Ichiro had been painting when the intercom sounded, reminding the residents of the banquet. He'd nearly forgotten about the affair and the upcoming thirty days of darkness. He'd been too absorbed in a new series of paintings that had come to him in a dream. They were bloody and demonic scenes, but held a terrible and cruel beauty about them. He gathered his supplies and gently washed his brushes free of ink in his art studio's sink. After putting away the art tools and paints, he took to the walk in shower. He'd forgotten to do so the day before, so intense was his desire to put the images his nightmares had inspired. Even as he had rejoiced in the painting, a sense of foreboding had stolen over the man. The paintings were a bad omen and he hoped his superstitions proved false.
He dressed in a sharp black suit with a charcoal grey shirt and black tie. Before he left his suite, he knelt in front of the Buddha. He lit the three incense he had prepared beforehand at breakfast and began his chants and prayers. Soon, his rituals complete he stood and smoothed out his clothes. For some reason, Ichiro had decided to carry a gun for the first time in many years. A compact hip holster was well-concealed by his suit jacket. Luckily he had already filed and been approved by Aaron, a friendly acquaintance, to carry a concealed sidearm. The license and permit had not come cheap, but Ichiro valued his safety above all else and it was a fool who was not always prepared. He tamed his long black hair, pulling it back into a tight ponytail. Several silver rings adorned his ears and many adorned his hands.
Deciding he wanted the exercise, the well-built Japanese man opted for the stairs. He made his way up the levels quickly, spotting the chief on his way up to the banquet. "Officer McKenna, it's good to see you. How have you been?" He straightened his jacket as he came abreast of the police officer, falling into step. He secured the top button of his suit jacket, not wanting to put the man into unease even though he had gone through all the proper channels. "Looking forward to the banquet? I hear there is an open bar," he said the last with a bit of shared amusement. He himself didn't care for most Western drinks, preferring hot sake.
Even with the bindings around her eyes, Syleste's expression was familiar when she heard of his father. It was a raising of the eyebrows, a slackening of the jaw in surprise, and a bit of admiration when they heard that Jupiter had sired him. Grif seemed to have a reaction, although shock and awe were not among them. Instead, the man seemed almost intrigued and curious as to what might happen now that Logan had arrived. What these thoughts were, Logan could not begin to guess. His presence seemed to inspire a bit of speculation from the older demigod.
Logan took it in stride, especially since he was a newcomer. Not wanting to make a bad impression, he deliberately stilled his body as Syleste used his arm as a guide to grasp his hand in a demure shake. He returned the gesture with care, not wanting to harm the girl by accident. Her touch and skin were soft, her features fine. The girl seemed nervous or.. coy? The blush to her cheeks was noticeable to the boy and he felt his face grow hot as well, but lacked a flush.
"Thank you Syleste, it means a lot to hear such a warm welcome and the same to you. I've been very curious about the Greek camp for a long time and felt that I was overdue for a healthy dose of change. Although why would I mind if you came along for the tour? I say the more the merrier." He grinned broadly, knowing that the girl would hear the smile in his voice as surely as another might see it. "And I have to say, your camp and valley are simply beautiful. This Fleece must make even dead of trees sprout back to life."
Utterly in the dark, he had no idea of Erin's displeasure at being made the tour guide. He had assumed that they both were to show him the grounds as guides. Being no fool, Erin's look of distaste of her duty left nothing to the imagination. Logan appreciated this honesty of expression, knowing where her motivations lay. It seemed the two girls were very different people, but Erin's protective demeanor over the girl spoke of a deep bond. It was expressed by a faint lean towards each other, as if being together had become a regular occurrence. Two people together for such a long time, it was a natural thing that it had become a pattern of behavior. Feeling the strap of his bag slipping, a quick tug and bounce of the item allowed him to pull their supports taught once more. A series of metallic clinking and clanking resounded. It seemed the padding had not been sufficient, for the boy hated sounding like a church bell while traveling.
He extended a hand towards Erin as well. "My cousin? Who is your father, if you don't mind me asking?" His smiled had not faltered. Feeling sincerely grateful, it seemed a bit of the weight had been taken off his shoulders. He hadn't noticed just how heavy his burdens were until Syleste had made the day brighter. "Erin, it's good to meet you."
