La bataille en bas s'était terminée, sans qu'il y ait eu de victimes ou de blessés de leur côté - Ellis semblait avoir une sorte de dysfonctionnement, mais franchement, il ne se souciait pas de ce qui lui est arrivé.
Dans l'ensemble, leur efficacité semblait assez surprenante, car ils avaient facilement envoyé leurs ennemis dans les moments où le combat s'était engagé.
Le turian a donné plus d'ordres et a mis Giles en surveillance... encore...
Il n'y avait qu'un plaisir limité d'être à un kilomètre de l'action, alors qu'il aimait le chaos qu'il pouvait semer avec n'importe quoi mais un seul tour, il n'y avait rien de tout à fait comme utiliser sa gamme d'explosifs de près - « Danger proche » les humains l'appelaient, ils semblaient avoir un mot ou dire pour tout.
Alors que le reste de l'équipe se déplaçait sur l'installation de Cerberus Giles chargé dans son prochain coup, il aimait ce morceau, les mouvements mécaniques et de jarring nécessaires pour faire qui a libéré le clip thermique épuisé, le clip lui-même ping-out avec un anneau métallique laissant derrière une piste de vapeur de son corps chaud blanc.
Vraiment belle, à sa manière...
Giles s'est froncé après cette pensée et cette action... c'est exactement cette ligne de pensée qui a fait sortir l'Artiste, et vu la gravité de cette mission, cela n'arriverait pas.
Ses médicaments étaient toujours en vigueur et il avait une fiole de secours dans sa cartable pour qu'il aille bien.
Gilvert a rampé le clip suivant dans son fusil et a regardé le champ une fois de plus pour regarder la porte où l'avant-garde s'accumulait. C'était à ce moment-là que la vraie merde a frappé le fan, plusieurs mechs ainsi que Guardians sont sortis de l'établissement prêt à rencontrer l'équipe d'assaut.
C'était plus qu'un mandat suffisant pour les tuer tous, ce « parti politique » était clairement en profondeur avec Cerberus pour qu'ils reçoivent une garnison aussi grande que celle-ci.
Puis il l'a vu, le grand mech YMIR qui a posé derrière la garnison ennemie, il savait comment gérer ces, et son fusil... il a été conçu pour ce moment.
Heureusement que la bataille menée sur le mech a subi des dégâts, ainsi que ses barrières cinétiques étant totalement détruites.
Le turncoat Cerberus hurlait pour tirer sur la tête, mais Giles n'avait pas besoin d'ordre ni d'aide pour savoir ce qu'il devait faire.
Gilvert respira, poussa le stock de son fusil près de son épaule, le poussant pour une prise ferme.
Un tour explosif a été chargé, son champ fermement fixé sur sa tête, les humains ont un dicton que la foudre ne frappe jamais au même endroit deux fois, eh bien, à cette occasion il le ferait.
Il a tiré la gâchette et son fusil a fait rouler le tonnerre à travers le tunnel une fois de plus - il était tellement piégé au moment où il n'avait même pas besoin de couvrir ses oreilles, le rond a brûlé à travers le tunnel et percé directement à travers la tête des mechs YMIR, ce qui l'a fait exploser violemment dans une cascade d'éclats et d'électroniques.
Le mech tomba à genoux, les bras s'assombrirent dans une réincarnation étrangement organique de la tête perdante, puis le témoin scintille sur son cœur, un bip lentement croissant commence à émettre à travers le tunnel, apparemment éclipsant la lutte contre le feu qui se produisit.
Tout le monde savait ce qui allait suivre.
Name:
Gilvert Somner, "Giles"
Race:
Drell
Class:
Infiltrator
Age:
51
Sex:
Male
Appearance:


Gilvert stands at around 5’8 and weighs roughly around 10 stone, he has a number of scars from shrapnel burns and old bullet wounds in his chest, and a few on his right arm, 2 above the shoulder, one below the elbow.

Backstory:

Gilvert Somner is born on Kahje - Year 2136
Gilvert has been an assassin and a mercenary in his life, as well as the fact that he fought during the reaper wars and spent a good portion of his life on Omega, he’s seen a lot of action over his life and he’s beginning to show it, at least mentally, his physical injuries over the years haven’t been overly extensive and nothing too major.


 Year 2156 
His days as an assassin began on his “home planet” of Kahje, the Hanar homeworld, much like a number of drell that got accepted into their fold when they saved a portion of the population from the Drell homeworld, given the small number that was actually rescued it’s uncommon much to see a drell in the galaxy; however the odd and rare sighting typically means that the Hanar need work doing, given their nature there’s many things a Hanar can’t do, or at the very least things that are better left in the hands of others, when the drell were accepted into Kahje, those with certain skills, or merely those whom the hanar felt could work effectively for them were trained up to become assassins -as well as soldiers, spec-ops, anything really that revolved around combat.
In his early years Gilvert was offered to perform tasks for the Hanar due to the fact that he scored highly on the tests ran by the Hanar to find the best of the Drell race, especially in regards to combat proficiency and stealth aptitude, it was also during this time that Gilvert was putting many hours of study behind Chemistry.
In Drell culture it’s regarded as a great honour to be asked by the Hanar to perform certain tasks, although this didn’t really resonate well with Gilvert, he has as thankful as the rest of his race for the kindness of the hanar, but he had plans for his future that didn’t typically involve the act of killing others.
If only he were blessed with foresight then he might have seen just what this path would lead him to, a life where killing is both naturally and something he does with enjoyment.
He accepted the offer, knowing full well that denying it would come with a lot of attached stigma from his peers and family for that matter.
His training to become an assassin for them went underway, it took 4 years to train him properly and it was around this time, that things were getting a bit off about Gilvert - it’s not exactly certain what was the initial cause for his psychosis developing, but it was certainly around this time that you could say it began to form.
Multiple reports and evaluations during his training, and ones that were inevitably pulled from his schools that he had attended during childhood suggested a slight bit of mental instability, when he was growing up he did a lot of art, drawing and painting was something he loved and enjoyed, at the time they couldn't discover as to why he never pursued it, or never does it in his spare time, however it was later discovered that his mother had not liked the idea of her son becoming something like an artist and forced him to pursue something scientific or productive like a military role or working for a tech/weapons company, as to better the state of the galaxy, and increase the defence of the Hanar and the Drell alike.
During combat simulations it was observed that on occasion he had the tendency to execute opponents in a very specific manner, going against protocol and training, what was particularly noted was his way to kill in a certain order - the order of their deaths was only seen by the Drells eyes, and none of his own race nor the Hanar who witnessed could fathom it.
Despite everything of his odd mannerisms and actions, his proficiency was still very high and got the job done regardless of it; it was brushed aside as nothing of import - later in his life the Hanar who run this operation begin to connect the dots in thinking that he performs his art now in the only way he knows how, artistry in death, perfection in destruction his canvas is the galaxy; its people the paint; his hands the brush.
The training was rigorous and intense, it departed a great deal from anything Gilvert was ever thinking of doing, or ever thought of doing - he understand that his body had been honed into a weapon now, it would have it’s uses, it meant that he could keep himself alive - it meant that whilst others would die, inevitably he would be doing a justice, the people he would have to kill, all of them were disgusting- vile creatures that made life insufferable for the majority; but regardless of the justifications, something changed about him that day.
His first job - given that he was adapt in chemistry, and that he had been specialised in the use of explosives as well as long range elimination Gilvert was outfitted with a set of explosive charges and mines - his job had two tasks; eliminate the target, a Krogan warlord who lead a group of mercenaries that mainly dealt in the narcotic Red sand, and stolen cargo vessels.
And destroy the cargo ship that had over 1,000 kilos of red sand on board.
This job, changed Gilvert for the rest of his life; for better or for worse, is yet to be seen.
Gilvert was outfitted with a Haliat armoury sniper rifle with tungsten rounds, designed specifically to take out the krogan in a single shot - assuming it landed in the head.
As well as a number of different explosives, and one special bomb that was mean to be placed on the ships hull - it would be mojre than capable of destroying it.
Once he had been given his full briefing and handed a large sum of credits to pave his way, he left Kahje for the first time.
It was a daunting episode in his life the first off world place he visited, out of all of them, was Omega the ship provided to him took him there within a day and the only help he got on it was the fact that this place was basically the ass-end of the galaxy - all sorts of deplorables, and honest people alike come here - a friend of his called it the Anti-Citadel, and after 48 hours on the space-station, he could only agree, there was plenty of information regarding what the Citadel looked like and how it was back on Kahje, it looked amazing, truly a great place, this however, has quite the opposite.
Despite how many different races were on this station, he - as a drell, got quite a few looks of surprise and skepticism, many people did not know what a Drell looked like, let alone have the “fortune” to see one in person.
The one person he did know to go to however, was an Asari named Aria T’loak, the defacto leader of this station, if he wanted any better intel on his target, she’d be the one to ask.
After giving the bouncer at the doors to a club named Afterlife an “entrance fee” he made his way inside.
The music could be heard clearly, if not slightly muffled from outside, but inside the atmosphere was unlike anything he had ever witnessed or experience it was incredibly loud, flashing neon lights and exotic dancers, almost every race was mingling, drinking, dancing…
Gilvert tried his utmost to look as if he knew what he was doing, to put on a mask to make sure he didn’t look as if was fish fresh out of water.
He probably wasn’t doing very well, but Drell facial expressions are hard to read without actually knowing the race well, which will prove to serve to his advantage a great deal through his career.
He asked the bartender how he could talk to the Asari, and got pointed towards a set of stairs that lead upwards, she clearly had the best seat on the house.
A burly looking Batarian blocked the way, he didn’t even attempt to stop the Drell and simply said in a coarse, but clearly audible voice.“Go on up, she’s expecting you.”
Now that elicited a very easy to read expression of surprise on his face, the batrain grinned, baring his many pinprick like teeth before stating once more “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting, do yourself a favour and hurry up.”
Without further hesitation Gilvert did exactly that.
The meeting with the “Queen of Omega” proved to be very enlightening, she offered him more than enough information on how to get the job done, but on one condition.
The ship filled to the brim with red sand must be left untouched, if he did so - she would pay him 10% net worth of its contents as a thanks - part two of the payment, part one was the intel he received.
Gilvert knew it was not a request, as “kind” as she stated it, he had already accepted by receiving the intel from her, the payment was merely a bonus on something he now didn’t have a choice in doing.
The entire process has been mentally overwhelming, the constant barrage of new information and adaptations he had to make in order to do his job properly and effectively, it took its toll.
Eventually Gilvert got to the private hangar that this Krogan warlord had access too, docked into an airlock was the cargo ship, which was currently being stocked with the substance red sand, it was nearly fully stocked now so time was of the essence.
It was as he looked through his scope; over 300 meters away from his target that it happened.
It was like a bolt of lightning flashed behind his eyes, his first psychotic episode was especially traumatic for Gilvert due to the fact that they have eidetic memory which allows them to remember almost everything in extremely vivid detail, however when there’s a black patch, when there’s nothing over a period of time - that is one of the most worrying things a Drell can undergo- to always know what you’ve done in your past, and then there’s just a break in that clarity, where he knows he killed over 60 innocent dock workers.
That realisation traumatised him beyond repair, the aspiring Chemical scientist that was Gilvert is gone, memories of that time seem like they’re of another person now.
It's cause is not certain as the mind cannot be really understood - however Gilvert felt a hostile presence from Omega from the moment he stepped onto this gods forsaken station, it was oppressive and overbearing, its quite possible that this was the trigger, landing into a place full of hostile, or potentially hostile entities - his training made him think of that as all assassins do, everyone is a potential threat, they can cause a discovery or try to be a hero - get in the way, so many things the average person can do to ruin an assassin and in turn, their life; the fact that this place disgusted him too, did not help the people here- pathetic all of them, scum of the galaxy, they were a taint.
How could perfection ever exist if such a glaring imperfection such as Omega exist?
He was an artist, he needed his work to be perfect, it was this line of thinking that began him to traipse slowly down a decline which inevitably broke him, or fixed him depending on your views - he struggles to draw the line between the real him, is the artist the real him - or is it the mercenary?
During this episode, which last just over 46 minutes, Gilvert had managed to flawlessly infiltrate the dock and tactically place 75% of his explosive ordnance around the port, as well as the specially modified bomb designed for the transport vessel.
Moved to a safe distance, executed his target with one shot from his sniper rifle, and detonated the explosives - the sheer force made the station rattle slightly - the ship which was outside of the actual station itself survived; in his episode he seen no need to destroy it.
But he knows how he felt after he came to about 3 miles away from the place that he had just destroyed, he felt elated, he knew that but moments ago he had made something great, he had begun work on a masterpiece that he would inevitably obsess over for the rest of his life.
He also knew, that something had gone terribly wrong, two sides of his mind conflicted, spared all the way back to Afterlife.
When he got to the Batarian who was at the stair case he just said with a look surprise on his face “Shit, I know keeping Aria happy with your work is a good idea, but you clearly wanted to impress the boss on your first day huh? Keep it up killer, you might make a good thing here.”
He gestured upwards indicating he could go up.
Aria ended up somewhat scolding him in a similar way a mother scolds a child for taking the last cookie, she wasn’t entirely bothered about how he executed the job, he had still made sure she got her cargo and for that she was happy.
But he had proved to be reckless, next time things may not go as well, was the gist of what she said to him - in turn she transferred a large sum of credits to his account and also went on to say that the cargo ship “was destroyed in the explosion” or at least that’s what the news will say, meaning that in turn he had still fulfilled the task for the Hanar.
Not that they would be happy about his methods.
Before he left to face the music however, Aria said that if he needed work, her door was open to him.
That was exactly what he needed for when he went back to Kahje, he almost instantly faced a tribunal for his actions, despite the fact that he had completed his task, he had done so with a complete disregard to innocent life in the process - Gilvert didn’t even try and defend his actions as he himself was still warring over them, he felt as if he had done the right thing, but ultimately knew he had done something bad- as a result Gilvert was exiled from Kahje, he was to leave the planet tomorrow with what he already had on his person, and never to come back; he wasn't even allowed to see his family or friends.
This hallmark of his life, was probably the most significant out of all others we will have, it set the pace for him, that path he would now walk, everything from here on out was defined by this moment.
After he made his way back to Omega, and got in touch with Aria once again, she gave him the location of a merc group that worked for on occasion; turns out they were in need for someone just like him after their last demolitions man stepped on his own mine.


Life as a mercenary - Year 2161- 2186
Despite everything that had happened, this merc group took him in with no reservations, they were a 6 man squad, now 7 with his addition.
The leader was a Krogan warlord, a literal juggernaut of flesh and armour
The second in command at that time was a Salarian engineer, adept in hacking and disruption of enemy systems
A batarian vanguard, proficient with biotics and; oddly, extremely laid back.
Two turians, neither like the other, one was biotic and the other was a sniper.
And finally an asari - ex-commando
The Krogan took a liking to Gilvert very quickly, after he heard the space port incident was his doing he stated that they were going to get on very well with each other if he kept up the work like that.
The group was an effective one, highly skilled and very capable; the number of missions they took had them head to the likes of Tuchunka, Ilum, the dark streets of the Citadel but mainly they operated in the traverse and terminus systems - from the Ismar frontier to the Hades nexus.
It was during one specific mission that he acquired one of the newly designed M-97 Widowmakers, which had been tinkered with for greater suitability for use by a single user, Gilvert ended up sinking over 300,000 credits in modifications and updates to keep weapon always one step ahead of any other sniper rifle in circulation.
During these years Gilvert became very familiar with Omega and its filthy streets, he also got very well acquainted with Aria T’loak; it wasn’t uncommon to find him, on occasion, and assuming she wasn’t attending any business, with her in afterlife - more often that not it lead to a job for the merc band, but it helped that she liked him, in a way.
His time on Omega also lead him to meet another Drell, in 2171; his name -Thane Krios.
He had heard from a few whispers back on Khaje that this was one of the most successful assassins the Hanar had at their disposal, and Krios too knew who he was, the disgraced assassin that was exiled, they had a somewhat cold feeling talk with one another and parted ways, Thane was not fond of Gilvert, that much was certain.


The mercenaries memories - Year 2161- 2186
(i’ll add to these as the roleplay progresses, these are specific mission he has undertaken, and he’ll recall in memories or in telling stories to others.


The Battle for Earth: Year 2186
The merc band that Gilvert was apart of ultimately ended up fioghting on Earth itself for the fianl battle against the reapers, after they and various other merc groups aided Aria and Shepard remove Cereberus from Omega, they were hired and sent to Earth for the final battle, where upon their numbers were halved by the end of it, Only the Krogan warlord, himself and the asari commando remained- it’s fair to say that there already tight bonds were made tighter after this battle.
Despite all the odds, Gilvert managed to get through the entire battle without a single episode occurring, which is very happy about, their frequency has been increasing and that was one battle, he did not want to forget or miss remembering.
After the Battle was over, the merc group, which has been named “Heroic outcasts” by their leader given their role during the Reaper invasion, they aided in the reconstruction of London and took the time to have a break from all the fighting and killing, it was a well-paid, well fed endeavour as well as good for their ranks, of which they easily replenished with some truly incredible outcasts, perfect for their merry little merc band.
Things were looking up, but it would soon be time to get a move on.

Psyche Profile:
The psyche profile of Gilvert is slightly worrying, it’s progressing into something that shows signs of psychosis, sometimes in the heat of battle he can begin to lose grasp of reality making his
actions erratic and strange, he begins to talk as if the world were a tapestry and his hands hold the only brush that can paint it’s dull blank canvas: in reds, blues, purples and greens, every death signifies a step closer to the completion of this masterpiece, whilst he’s going through a psychotic episode he can still tell the difference between friend and foe, for now at least, in his addled mind he perceives friendlies as people whom contain the wrong colour for his work, and as such, there is no use in killing them as they would ruin his tapestry, this can lead him to protect certain people with ruthlessness, they must survive, as they would mar his work.
This side of him does not show often though, although as time passes its frequency will increase and the length of each episode.
Otherwise this drell is a bit of a wiseguy, he will be picky and is oft sarcastic, and takes delight in the strangest of things, especially when he nails one of the enemy with one his many explosives, the cain mines being the crescendo of his symphony of death.
Overall this Drell is disturbed, but nevertheless an oddly reliable and exceptionally capable killer and explosives expert, just expect a mess when he finishes a job.

"Yeah that was one hell of an operation, should have seen Giles when the artist came out... We get asked alot if that side of him is a liability, fuck that nonsense - let me tell you guys a story of how the artist makes our job 10x more fun, and 10x easier!"
Virtak had successfully entrapped his audience around the table, a number of patrons in one of the many bars on the Citadel - the group had been taking some time off and spending some of their hard earned credits, and Virtak being himself refuses to buy his own drinks, and gets them via storytelling.
Oddly successful at it too.
"So... it begins when we..." Virtak began a large vulpine smile on his lips.

-At an undisclosed system in the Traverse- Year:2181
The Mercenary band had finally made it after traipsing half way across the galaxy chasing one goddamned ship, it had managed to land on one of them many numerous seemingly dis-interesting planets that scattered hundreds of systems throughout the galaxy, perfect place for those whom don't want to be seen doing what they do.
"What's the info we have on this piece of rocky shit?" Virtak asked their pilot; the Turian in the cockpit replied with "Nothing interesting about it in any files or records, its orbiting a G class star at around 9.2 Au, barely got any atmosphere, but what it does have contains trace amounts of methane and nitrogen, means if you're outside you gotta wear a helmet; surface is cold as fuck too, -134 Celsius, I don't recommend going for a stroll; get in, kill them all, get out."
All's the pilot got in response was a growl as Virtak lumbered off to assemble the crew.
Within 10 minutes they were all outfitted and ready to go.
Their landing was fairly smooth, it appeared that the enemy knew they were being chased and offloaded their cargo as swiftly as possible before getting inside the bunker that stood before the 7 mercs; Giles had been off long before arriving on the cold rock that was this planet, and no amount of medication that he took was making him feel any better, everyone knew what this meant, and that meant Giles himself.
After the airlock was hacked open the mercs moved in and waited for depressurisation before removing their helmets, the first room they entered had been cleared mostly of clutter but its design offered a fair bit on what the rest of the place would be like.
It was a recent construction and clearly a very expensive build, this place was a veritable bunker designed to survive bombardment, the naturally hard surface outside helped as well, clearly they were dealing with one paranoid fucker.
As they prepped to siege the next room - since Giles' recon mine outlined several hostile entities inside, it was then the episode started.

The Artist awakens!
"NO! THIS CANVAS! IT'S. SO. DULL! PLACID AND DEPRIVED, IT NEEDS COLOUR, IT NEEDS A BREATH OF LIFE IN ITS SOULLESS HUSK OF A CORPSE: I MUST, I NEED, I WILL GIVE IT LIFE! I WILL PAINT IT WITH CRIMSON REDS, BOLD BLUES, STARTLING PURPLES AND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL COLOUR OF THEM ALL! IN VERDANT GREENS!"
The Artist stood, in front of him stood his audience, they always stood and observed his show's they were loyal, they respected his work they cheered when he began his work, they wept tears of joy when they seen him place his brush down when the work had been completed and above all the always returned to watch him perform again, they had beautiful colours in them, they'd make a fine painting, but he enjoyed admirers of his work - alas what is the point of art if there is none to admire its beauty?
The big one spoke "Giles, blow the door, its time to to get to work."
Ugh, his voice was so crude, it hurt his ears to listen to it, but he spoke of something that mattered greatly the performance was to begin, the curtains were in front of him, the only colour in this world that he in stood a shocking veil of velvet red curtains, and on it was one of his brushes, something he used to splash many a colour across a large area of the canvas, in his hand there lied the magical ability to commence the show, to draw back the curtains and begin his show, his performance of perfection, his symphony of death, so much paint and colour lied ahead of him, and he most make them pour it free.
His hands shook with anticipation, a mad smile covered his face, his eyes wild with excitement.
"It's time to begin the performance! This, will be my greatest work of art as of yet!" And as he finished his sentence he blew the door of its hydrolic locks and hinges, a tonne of metal flew free from its hinges and crashed off a pillar within the room behind it, his audience moved forward to take their seats, he stopped to take in a large gulp of air, and drew his most prized instrument, this brush of his, it was unique in that it was capable of creating the best colours, nothing - no other instrument did he ever have at his disposal create the same dark and deep colours as this did, he caressed its smooth surface and cool metal as it began its tune of unlocking, it was now truly an instrument of which he would sow the seeds of death, and with one stroke reap its harvest.
He moved swiftly, moving onto the stage and within mere seconds clocked his first target, setting up his instrument of beauty he peered closer at it through the scope, this target, large and unsightly was its exterior but insie he knew, it contained that precious colour that he needed for his first stroke - an Azure blue, a perfect rendition of the skies of Khaje.
This colour, he needed it, he must use IT, it was time to dip his brush in the paint, and begin the work of a master.
He pulled the trigger back, it giving its master no resistance as he did so, it begged to be pulled back as both he and his instrument wanted the same thing.
And the Choir began their hymn, the barrel shook as their voices pierced the heavens and the projectile was unleashed from its captivity.
It blazed through the air, and as the choir hit its crescendo the bullet pierced through its target spilling forth in large quantities life's most precious liquid.
Giles' eyes watered at the sight, it was the very incarnation of perfection, the first kill, the first stroke of the brush it always moved him the most, joy bloomed in his fragile heart and he buried the memory deep inside him, with all of the others, every other first stroke he had made.
The painting had begun, the performance in full swing his audience begging for more.
He would have to continue, he had to to ensure that they were sated; his work was in high demand and he would gleefully fulfil that demand.
Giles danced around the room, with every step he sowed further seeds of his perfection, spilling more and more essence of life that painted this tawdry setting.
His work was getting more and more complete, every step that dawned closer to the finish of this artwork made his eyes swell with tears of pain and sorrow, but equally his lust for more increased, he wanted nothing more to see the end result of his work to see the perfection of his art and the mastery of his strokes.
For every stroke on this painting meant it was always one step closer to the next painting he would make.
As his performance drew to a close he his from the crowds eyes, concealing himself! One of the beings in front of him held that alluring Crimson red that he loved - he used one of his other tools for this one, activating a cain mine he placed it on his target before revolving around with incredible speed and unleashing a powerful kick into its chest, sending t flying over towards another person whom held a dark but soothing light green.
The explosion that ensued joined their colours together and splattered them around the area, truly outstanding, the perfect merging of them blossomed into a cascade of colour; it was like the flowers in Thessia coming into bloom.
There only lied one last are he needed to paint, and only one person held the final colour, a navy blue, it would complement his work nicely and add the perfect finishing touch.
Leaping to a piece of cover he prepared his main instrument of artistry and executed a perfect shot, it punched through a piece of the theatre and into the head, exploding to release voluminous amounts of paint.
Giles placed his weapon on his back, swivelling on his right foot as he did so, and falling to on knee he raised his hands to the heavens, outstretched as if to hold the gods themselves, and with a voice filled with joy he stated to his audience.
"My work is complete! Truly my best work to date, its magnificent colours blend perfectly together, there isn't so much as a single blemish, upon its once pale canvas; I have restored it to life! I have bestowed upon it the greatest gift any can be given..."
PERFECTION!



Specialty:
Gilvert would shame some of the most prominent STG explosives experts, this man is truly gifted with that art of explosions, he looks at the work of others with disdain and contempt, mere children trying to grasp at the concept that only a master can truly understand, this is his art, his passion!
He can rig up most explosives as well as use volatile equipment to his advantage to make almost homemade bombs, his knowledge in chemistry is expansive and is certainly on par with scientists in that field of study.
Despite his proficiency with explosives he remains an effective sniper and can hit targets from up to 700 meters away with relative ease, however when he uses his explosive rounds which makes the gun fire slightly erratically, his competency drops to around 450 meters, although the explosion could still nail one of the intended targets.
He can adapt to many combat situations given his expansive experience on the front and in general combat - he’s fought pirates, raiders, reapers, cerberus, hostile indigenous life forms, asari commandos, STG operatives, high grade security and mercenaries.
The only thing he hasn’t fought is the geth and a thresher maw, 
Powers/Skills:

Tactical Cloak (“I love sticking a cain mine on someone's back”)
Recon mine(“I can see you! *detonates* Awh, where’d you go?”)
Cain mine(“These are my babies, wanna hold them? They don’t bite.”)
Explosive rounds(“Turns my rifle into a Rocket launcher?! Give me 50!”)
Lift grenades(“Can’t blow up the cover? Get those cowards up from behind it!”)
Multi-Frag grenades (“Why have one grenade when you can have several?!??!?”)

Equipment and Resources:

M-98 Widowmaker X-II - Heavily modified variant of the M-98 Widowmaker, it’s got a 50% longer barrel than its smaller brother which both increases its already substantial weight and moving instability meaning that this rifle requires to be set-up prior to firing, it can still be utilised effectively by a skilled and well organised sniper, but inevitably this weapons purpose is to deal maximum damage in a single bullet, Krogan and heavily armoured targets are the favourites for this weapon - typically a Drell wouldn't be able to wield it due its absurd recoil and extremely damaging recoil at that; the fact that he acquired it in an already modified state, clearly being redesigned to allow non-synthetic races, or anyone with substantial modifications to fire this gun without the worry of losing an arm.
It wasn't usable by Gilvert until 2180, when sufficient modifactions had allowed it to be fired - painfully mind, but still able to be fired by him.
Other than its massively reduced accuracy and increased recoil (this is with heavy modification into recoil dampers as well) the rifle is extremely powerful, it’s got one round per thermal clip and has a long reload time as well as overheating problems since there’s no current clip in circulation that can properly cool this gun, it can only be fired twice per minute at the very most lest the frame start to overheat and fracture.
Designed to eliminate vehicles, heavily armoured targets, multiple foes with a single bullet, or busting through a bunker - its penetration value is exceedingly high; the explosive rounds have been modified to detonate upon secondary collision, meaning it can retain its capability to pierce through targets, and then detonate when it comes into contact with something else: e.g: Bullet pierces through a brick wall, hits a poor volus and then blows up.
M-21 Locust submachine gun - due to its already high level accuracy the gun has been modified to favour damage and a larger thermal clip capacity.
A satchel filled with explosive templates: 25 grenade templates, and 50 mine templates.
Templates are literally just an empty mine or grenade shell, meaning that they need to be “coded” with their designated primers via omni-tool, this means that templates are safe to carry around without fear of them accidently blowing up on your person, and to stop Gilvert from throwing every explosive he has at once at people.
The satchel also contains his homemade medication to lower the chances of him having an episode, its a mixture of red sand and various other drugs.
A modified Savant Omnitool - The omni-tool is designed to work with the plethora of explosives that Gilvert has access to, it can code in the necessary primers to activate the templates, priming them when they are launched, or thrown.
He can switch primers by accessing his omnitool quickly in battle.
Also the omni tool can launch grenades and mine templates up to 100 meters away, or alternatively eject them for manual placement, grenades are partially primed when thrown, but armed as soon as they come into contact with an object - mines are only activated the moment they latch onto a surface, and will only be able to detonate a second after priming, they can be remotely detonated via omnitool from up to 250 meters away, if the user exceeds this distance they automatically detonate cain mines are the exception, they detonate when someone passes the laser tripwire, but lose the ability to be detonated by trigger from the user.
No armour, but a powerful kinetic barrier keeps old Gilvert safe from harm.

Sample Post:

Year -2178
“Why don’t we get Giles to blow the door?” The large Krogan battlemaster, and their leader stated in an almost monotone growl - he was starting to get impatient now.
The group of them had been waiting outside of the facilities main doors for at least 30 minutes now. The mention of explosives elicited a gleeful smile from Gilvert, with a practised hand, began sifting through his satchel of various grenades and mines.
“When you say blow up the door, how blown up do you want it? I can get the door to fly inwards and crush whoever’s standing behind it? That’d be pretty fun.”
But before the Krogan could reply the Salarian technician shot the option down in flames “I’m nearly done, so don't give the drell ideas Virtak - we are breaking into a facility to one of biggest weapon and technology producers in the galaxy, you are aware of this right?” The Salarian almost spat the sentence out, speaking at the speed of light as most Salarians did, Gilvert was surprised the translator in his Omnitool could keep up with them at times.
The Krogan responded to the Salarians outburst with a low growl before saying “Yeah yeah, we are here for the “supposed” cure to Keprals syndrome, that jelly offered a lot of credits for this so I’m buying the drinks if things go well, hell it even said you could go back to Kahje if you do this Giles; you know because blowing up hundreds of people when you were tasked to kill one guy is a bit overkill?
Pah, goddamn soft blobs they are, a bit of collateral damage never hurt anyone.”
The 7 of them Mercs were all stood outside the heavy metal doors to a Hahne Kedar corperation facility, where their client; a very prominent Hanar on Kahje has said the cure to Keprals syndrome is either in works, or actually is here.
The reward for completing the contract was 1,000,000 credits, which split between the 7 of them meant one hell of a pay day - they could all take a good bit of time off at the citadel with this money.
It was highly secure, and heavily guarded.
Thankfully though, things had gone pretty well thus far, they had managed to get to the planet undetected thanks to a special ship provided by the client, and their Salarian engineer - whom has second in charge, had also hacked into their security without being detected, meaning that for a while they had the jump on the guards.
Gilvert had already rigged up their comms dish with explosives, so they couldn't send a distress signal out once they started their assault. This would be a good operation, everyone here could feel it.
"Got it! get ready you lot, time to clock in and get a hard days work done." Their Salarian engineer had done it, took him a bit long, maybe he was slowing down in his old age.
The Krogan warlord gave a triumphant laugh and drew his shotgun - "Good job, Seryt - Giles, when the door opens, lift them up."
Ah, the cue he had been waiting for, a lift grenade was already coded and loaded into his Omni-tool, this was standard procedure for their breach and clear.
They stood in a line, about a strides length separated one from the next, their guns all locked and pointed at the doorway, on the Salrians mark, he would open the door, and then their days work would begin properly.
"3...2...1!" The door opened up, time seemed to slow as the guards stationed inside looked with bewilderment towards the heavily armed crew, they didn't even have time to activate their shields before the grenade collided with a crate and in a flash of blue light sent everything in the room up in the air - suspended there open before them without any defences barring their standard combat suits, they didn't stand a chance - everyone opened fire cutting the guards to ribbons, blue blood painted the air, stuck in the stasis field generated by the grenade, within a few seconds the effect ended, and with multiple thumps and crashes their lifeless bodies crumpled on the floor, blood splattered across it.
Their Asari - Deiynia, shook her head "Sometimes, this group makes the commandos look like children, if we keep this performance up we won't even have to use medi-gel."
"Yeah, good clear guys, lets get inside quickly - and Giles, blow the comms tower." The Virtak stated as he lumbered towards the now open doors.
Without hesitation Gilvert pressed the detonate button on his Omni-tool, the resounding explosion which seemed to shake the whole facility was the only answer the group needed to get inside and get to work.
After the doors had been closed by Seryt, he made his way to the console in the guard station, kicking a dead Turian out of the way as he did, the rest of them milled about and kept an eye out in case any reinforcements came.
"Right, the labs are at the far end of the facility, if we turn left out of the northern corridor we will get there in about 10 minutes, assuming we meet little or no resistance..."
The sentence was met with multiple snorts of derision and disbelief and the Turian sniper - Quintus laughed before saying "So basically it's gunna be a thirty minute journey and we kill about 50 guards and mechs - you know how it is, it's never bloody simple."
Seryt merely sighed before heading towards the corridor to their destination, the rest of them fell in and began their careful advancement forward, they done it in stages, a few moved at once whilst they were covered by the back-line, Quintus and Gilvert were always last as they could provide the best support with their snipers if they were at the back.
As they moved forward the odd noise of a Cain mine being shot at a wall could be heard - they wouldn't be flanked, that's for damn sure.
They worked like clockwork, when they reached another door, Gilvert moved to the front and tossed in a lift grenade, then Deiynia would detonate it with biotic explosion, Virtak moved in to tank any potshots or stragglers who managed to have the shields up and they would all be killed by the subsequent barrage of gun fire from the merc band.
Things were going smoothly, too smoothly.
Either they were doing everything right, or something was off.
This continued for the next 5 minutes, 3 rooms, with mixed personnel, some doing their typical work and guards just doing their jobs - cut down in a swath of gunfire, eventually Virtak stopped them, just as they cleared out the 4th room.
"Somethings not right... Septimus, go back the way we came and close the door, then shoot your gun, just outside it." It was a good shout, odd to see a Krogan with actual intelligence, sound proofing would explain a lot, and they force locked any alternate path into rooms they had cleared barring the path they took, which was laden with mines.
After he left and the doors closed, they heard nothing - a design choice was the only thing making this go as smooth as it was going, they all laughed when Septimus came back through, and kept going as they were.
At last when they reached the end, the final room before their destination, they finally hit a snag- it was a room that had YMIR mecs being built, these were experimental peices of machines that the company had just announced last year, not only that but they had one of them unpacked, there were several engineers and at least a full compliment of guards in this room - the room they needed to get to was just past this one.
They all took defensive positions, in a cone behind various pieces of cover, and it was up to Gilvert to begin the attack, he was focusing his sniper on the YMIR mecs head, as well as having a recon mine on call, ready to be fired straight at the things chest.
He fired the mine, and landed exactly where he planned it to, which caused the near by guards to look in confusion at it, moving closer as they did - and with a click it exploded, doing little overall to the mech itself but killing both guards instantly as parts of their once whole bodies scattered haphazardly around the room, painting it in shades of blue.
The YMRI mech gave a mechanical scream before issuing an alert in its synthesised voice  HOSTILE ENTITIES SPOTTED, OPENING FIRE."
It's statement was met in kind by the mercs as they unleashed a barrage of fire at the mech, it didn't last long, its shields and armour had already been partially damaged by the Recon mine, and it being hit all at once by the group overwhelmed it- but what happened next caught them all off guard, Quintus managed to blow its head off with a well placed sniper shot after its armour had been whittled down - the group though that was the end of it, but a increasingly rapid beeping commenced, it's core began to glisten white with heat, the metal around it corroding and melting to the floor, you could feel it on your flesh if it was exposed, the order to take cover didn't have to be said, you were an idiot if you didn't know what was going to happen, in a blinding flash of light and a massive explosion, pieces of corroded shrapnel and metal flew around the room, the production line that has many more of these being constructed was tore apart and brought everything to a halt - the sprinkler system kicked in and a blaring alarm kicked off.
After they stepped up from behind their cover, they had realised that the guards had either ran for it, or been killed by the blast.
"Shit, didn't expect that." Was all Virtak could say, the rest of them merely nodded or done nothing, wishing now to get this job over and done with, lest more of those mechs get here.
When they got to the final room, they weren't disappointed, within it lied the cure, at least partially.
It was designed to stop rather than actually cure it, meaning that subsequent injections of it were needed, it was clearly made to make credits.
This made Virtak spit with rage - he was happy he could do this for both Gilvert, and the Drell, for he knew that one day the same may happen for the Krogan when it came to the Genophage.
"Fucking scum! Is credits the only thing that matters?!"
The job when it came was taken for both its high pay day and its purpose, inevitably they all knew that even if the pay was low for this job, they would have took it regardless given its nature and the gravity of it.

Notes
Developing psychosis, episodes are rare but erratic, typically they door occur in a firefight, or in the preparation stages to an engagement, that does not mean they can’t occur at any time though.
Is trying his utmost to get his hands on the M-920 Cain, however he has been banned from acquiring the weapon via the blackmarket on Omega, orders from Aria T’loak herself; she wants to keep her station intact.
Since the Cerberus assault on Omega, he has been trying alternate markets to get access to one.
Still retains contact with his old Merc group, they can provide assistance if the pay is right.
Has the coordinates to multiple equipment and weapons stockpiles dotted around the traverse - only 4 out of the original 13 still have sensors active and articulate that the stash is still there in it’s entirety, the others could have been destroyed, raided, or simply be anomalous.
Holds the supposed cure to Keprals syndrome, as well as a holo-disk contain over 3,000 pages of information on the condition and the cure, however in it’s current form it does not cure the condition entirely merely prevents advancement, if a drug company got their hands on this they’d make billions in credits, he is currently attempting to find a way to make the cure a full one, instead of allowing it to be used for money.
Isn’t addicted to Red sand, but is reliant on it.