*Dean made his way quietly into the room his ice blue eyes scanning the faces within. The sound of his heavy combat boots seemed to ricochet off the walls along with the light clinking of his dog tags. The dog tags were hidden under his dark grey t-shirt to remind him of the things he had done in his many years in the service. It was obvious by his appearance that he was a trained soldier. His hair was cut short and he maintained a rigid posture. All signs of a trainer fighter. His battle hardened body had few scars visible that were warning signs to anyone who had some sort of quarrel with him. He was no pushover, and it was obvious just by looking at him. Moving deeper into the room, he found a seat.*<br/>Good evening everyone, how are you all today? *his deep British accent making his words sound like music to the ears of all in the room.*