[center][h2][color=ed1c24][i][b]Drake “D” Edwards[/b][/i][/color][/h2]
[img] https://image.ibb.co/mbnbKq/drake3post.jpg [/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=ed1c24][b]Interaction/Mentions: [@Brioko Jobe][/b][/color]   |  [color=ed1c24][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ashford Institute > Danger Room
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	"[color=f7976a]Names[/color]," Drake repeated, parroting the Matt's word.  The elder student realized he had offered up what he could do, but not what he was called.  Were these to be the soldiers in the next fight?  The new crop of people who he would be forced to rely upon for survival against spontaneous and unexpected conflicts?  Or were previous events a fluke and it was time to simmer down?  He supposed it didn't matter.  Might as well give a flash card summary of who he was.

	"[color=f7976a]Drake,[/color]" he said in nearly a shout, his volume unintentional.  "[color=f7976a]When I came in, I had a biological resistance to the effects of extreme temperatures.  I couldn't and cannot burn.  Now that has evolved into a control of and ability to generate fire.  I know my way around a wrench, I am no stranger to throwing hands and I enjoy the occasional sin or three.[/color]" His thoughts went to his ruined cigarettes for a moment.  He looked around the room before letting his gaze drift upward toward the ceiling.  "[color=f7976a]I'm not really sure what's going on anymore.  If we all end up joining hands around a fire by the end of our training then... great.  I'll even light the thing.  But I'm with Matt,[/color]" he said calmly, giving the younger a small nod.  "[color=f7976a]I'm a walking corpse right now... figuratively speaking.  Exhausted.  So let's hit the gas on this little pow wow.  Some of you I know, some I don't.  Who are you and why are you here?[/color]"