Lakon soupira avec soulagement quand l'aumônier leur a assuré que les horreurs auxquelles ils allaient faire face étaient vraiment cauchemardesques et peut-être insurmontables. Il garda son exhalation silencieuse, mais la façon dont le stress semblait s'écouler du corps de hos avec son souffle était perceptible pour quiconque prêtait attention. Il ne se souciait pas beaucoup de ce que les autres pensaient de lui, tant que le guerrier couvert de crâne devant eux disait la vérité. Cependant, il n'est pas d'accord avec la déclaration de l'Ange du Sang qui les a déclarés incompétents pour de telles choses. Les Astartes n'avaient jamais été aussi prêts pour quoi que ce soit de sa vie. Il a supposé que l'intention de la formulation était vraie, cependant, il n'a certainement pas eu d'expérience de combat contre quelque chose qui menace vraiment la santé ou le bien-être du meilleur de l'Empereur.
Il perdit son train de pensée lorsqu'ils furent accueillis à la Watch-Fortress, et l'aumônier leur demanda de le suivre dans leurs chambres. La marine était impatiente de trouver les armes et les armures qui lui avaient été fournies, et de commencer à bricoler, si seulement pour avoir quelque chose à faire. Malheureusement, leur destination s'est avérée être une salle à manger, et non leurs chambres. Le super-humain a décidé qu'il n'y avait rien de mal à ce résultat non plus, car il pouvait certainement utiliser un repas ou six. Cependant, Lakon était très délibérément le dernier à entrer dans la pièce, et il s'est rapidement fléché après l'aumônier alors que l'officier blindé de puissance sortait de la pièce comme s'il était un fantôme. Calculant l'écho du couloir, il parlait assez fort pour être entendu, mais juste.
-- Excuses, pour mon irrespect antérieur, aumônier. Je m'efforce d'équilibrer mes humeurs. » il a offert dans le même ton, fortement énoncé. Il ne s'attendait cependant à aucune réponse, voyant comment il parlait au dos de l'homme, et était de retour dans le réfectoire aussi vite qu'il était parti. "Torik." Il a dit le nom de l'homme comme une demande, "Je vais manger ce qui est commode. Apportez autant que vous pouvez, je suis sûr que les autres ont faim aussi." Ayant survécu à un régime très douteux pendant un certain temps, il n'était pas tout à fait sûr, la nourriture réelle sonnait assez attrayant pour le guerrier. Et manger était une bonne façon de garder tout le monde tranquille, ce qui signifiait que Haakon aurait moins de temps pour poser des questions inappropriées.
Code Name: Lakon
Chapter: Black Shield
Chapter Demeanour: Ambitious
Personal Demeanour: Stoic/Pious
Character Type: Kill-Marine
Rank: Freshly-Promoted Battle-Brother
Power Armour History: A cobbled-together and partially-scratch-built suit of power armour, the sum of the experiences of its individual parts is estimated to near a thousand years, and at minimum spans several centuries. However the unorthodox nature of its creation has resulted in a machine spirit that has not yet properly coalesced into a single entity. While this has not caused any actual issues, the tech-priests that participated in the construction claim that performance will improve when the armour has properly bonded with itself and its wearer, and spend a good deal more time than is healthy performing obscure rites, waving censers, and chanting in binary when the armour is not in use. When asked, the tech-priests will insist that it is a suit of Mk 6 "Corvus" power armour, but the obviously Mk 8 "Errant" helmet lends a great deal of confusion and suspicion to that statement. Performance reviews thus far are consistent with Mk 6 power armour, however, and the tech-priests insist that it merely requires time for the machine spirit to mature.
Description: Lakon is a fairly typical superhuman brick shithouse. He stands just a hair under eight feet tall out of his armour, and even when he isn't wrapped in ceramite and plasteel his palpably indomitable will lends a more decisive air of indestructibility to the Astartes, moreso that most. Relatively young, especially when compared to other members of the Deathwatch, his flat grey eyes hold the deadness of someone who's lost a good deal more than they ever imagined they would, and a callous, determined disregard for his own life. At least as far as things that do not pertain to his mission. Where many might have broken in the face of the adversities he faced, Lakon simply carried on with his mission. Evidence of that is everywhere in the web of scars he's acquired, but is most noticeable in the bio-acid burns running down the left side of his head, and the quartet of deep gouges torn from the right side of his face. The scars prevent him from growing a real head of hair, so the Astartes has taken to leaving only a three-inch strip of black down the middle of the top of his head, which he keeps slicked back to ensure a comfortable fit under his helmet. Nowhere else on his head can grow hair with any kind of consistency, so he had it removed. The scars of such permanent removal are largely hidden by the much more obvious battle-scars that tend to glare at anyone staring for too long. Combined with his permanent radiation tan, and some wonder how he's even alive. He'd be more than happy to explain, and would even throw in a great deal of revving his chain bayonet for free, but thus far everyone has been wise enough to let sleeping Astartes lie.
Skills: Jump Pack Mastery, Astartes Shotgun Mastery, Astartes Boltgun Mastery, Close Combat Expert, Breaching Expert, Mental Fortitude Expert, Overwatch Expert, Advanced Navigation(Ground), Advanced Navigation(Void), Advanced Dangerous Terrain Negotiation, Advanced Grenade-throwing, Intermediate Survival(Void), Intermediate Survival(Urban), Intermediate Sleight-of-hand, Intermediate Trap-laying, Intermediate Stealth Tactics.
History: A Space Marine arrived unannounced to the Watch Fortress. His vessel was little more than a glorified space hulk, though it consisted of only a single escort-class void ship. An investigation revealed that it had been a pirate vessel, heavily contaminated by the warp, and had been home to more than just human pirates. The hydroponics bays had been overrun, turned into jungles, and inhabited by feral krootoids, and the foremost quarter of the ship had been home to a tribe of slightly-less-feral Orks. That hadn't seemed to slow the pirates down, though. They'd even been coping with the warp contamination and phenomena surprisingly well, though the occasional manifestation of a minor daemon was sufficient to keep the group from getting out of hand. It would have taken at squad of Space Marines had put an end to all that, however, but there was no evidence to suggest anyone else had been on board, and no life to be found when the shuttle touched down inside the Watch Fortress. The Space Marine exited his shuttle clad only in the plain black bodyglove he would have worn under a suit of power armour. No evidence of a former Chapter was to be found, even after scouring the temporary vessel. He reported directly to the Watch Commander, and didn't make a sound toward anyone else.
Equipment and Armament: Hesh Pattern Boltgun with Kraken rounds, Hesh Pattern Breaching Shotgun with Breaching rounds, Chain Bayonet, Combat Knife, Blind Grenades, Frag Grenades.
Miscellaneous: Really likes Jump Packs, Drop Pods, and anything else that is good for hurtling toward the enemy at unhealthy speeds, preferably in the cramped quarters of a Voidship, but anywhere will do, really.