<div class="floatleft">(http://www.youngmalecelebs.net/galleries/walker/Walker009.jpg)</div><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>       Jake Wheatly<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong>          Mid-Knight [not given yet]<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Los Angeles streets<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>    open, Marcus<br/><br/></span></span><hr/><br/>Jake was feeling at least half accomplished. He was starting to get himself more and more comfortable with the basics of his powers. Using his powers, the night was possibly his greatest ally. He was sitting down, treating himself to a can of chili along with a sleeve of crackers from a box he had. He had a very large duffle bag full of canned and preserved goods. It may not have been heated up, but man did it feel great in his stomach. He had managed to help some people  as he went around, mapping out the area, directing them to the museum where the others were staying at.<br/><br/>Suddenly though, as he finished his meal, there was a crash near by. Almost out of reflex he phased into shadow, melding into the darkness around them. He couldn't help but think the voice sounded familiar, though it sounded a little augmented. From the shadows he  tried to get a better look at the man. He rematerialized about five yards from Marcus, re-donned in his shadow armor and lance in hand, still exercising the hand of caution. After seeing he looked nothing like apocalypses forces, then he saw the t-shirt, letting the lance phase out of existance from his hand.<br/><br/>"You were at the museum, what are you doing out here?" He wasn't sure what more to say but he was happy to see it was a friendly face, at least so he assumed.