<div class="floatleft">(http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff7/HaruTokushima/Realistic%20Chars/Trent/3577005b-45f1-44e5-9000-10f38c10ea2b_zps1e37ead9.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Trent Wilde<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Party<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Maggie, Frankie, open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Mass Effect, a little talking<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>N7 Armor, minus helmet (http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/5c/a3/18/5ca318d21885d2f5c97ee3ffa3b77043.jpg)<br/><hr/><br/>Tonight, everyone would be safe with him around. He had stopped a rogue Spectre, survived a trip through the Omega 4 Relay, and defeated the Reapers. There was nothing he couldn't triumph. He was Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre the galaxy had ever seen.<br/><br/>Trent walked out of the building that housed his apartment. Gone was the cheerful, off-rhythm bounce in his step. Now he strode with confidence. He loved this suit way too much. It had cost a few pretty pennies when he had gotten it about two years back, but it was worth it. He had been itching for this night to arrive so he could don the armor of his favorite character one more time, and seven o'clock didn't come come fast enough; he threw on the suit an hour early and paraded around his apartment, shooting imaginary husks with a nonexistent gun. Good thing his new roommate hadn't been around. The man probably wouldn't have understood the enthusiasm.<br/><br/>Wind blew through the area. It found the openings in his armor and stole some of his warmth. Trent was used to this weather, but he didn't have much on underneath the suit. Staying outside for very long would prove tough. He crossed the lawn--it looked like he came just in time for the party to start; people were beginning to filter out of the buildings that comprised the complex, and he imagined a few others from around the neighborhood might start to show up, too, but the tables were vacant. Maybe the lounge was a different case, but he couldn't be sure. Beneath the sounds of the city that carried over to their little space, he couldn't make out any noise coming from within, and he also didn't have a good view of it yet.<br/><br/>Maybe he would check it out momentarily. Right now, not too far off, he saw a very familiar red and blue costume on a somebody standing over a Jack-o-lantern.<br/><br/>"Hiya Miss H," he greeted as he approached. His body language might have matched the soldier he was trying to be, but he realized the twang in his voice probably shattered the illusion. "Great costume!" He spotted the bag in her hand and the pumpkin she had just placed a candle in. It looked like there were still a few more to go. "Do you want help with the rest of those?" He looked around at the tables. "Or anything else?"<br/><br/>His attention drifted toward the nearby apartment building. The lounge's doors were open, and they weren't too far away from them. Leaning, Trent could see inside, and at first, his eyes slightly widened at the gory undead face he found in there. It looked like Wendy had run into some bad luck. He chuckled, waving.