[hider=Grant Raskstål]
[b]Name:[/b] Grant Raskstål
[b]Sex:[/b] Male
[b]Age:[/b] 27 (Born 6/24/1988)

[b]Appearance/Personality/Biography:[/b]

[b][i]5 May 2014 // 05:29 UTC-04:00[/i][/b]

Grant sat up, twisting towards the night stand to press the button on his phone's alarm clock before it struck the half-hour and woke the person lying next to him asleep. He couldn't remember her name. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, clicking the light switch on after the door closed behind him. There was an expensive-looking purse on the counter, a wallet poking out from the top. Grant flipped it open, thumbing through the cards. Victoria Fong, 25. He shrugged and slid the ID back into her wallet. [i]Doesn't ring a bell.[/i] Grant started a shower and looked into the bathroom's long mirror while the water heated. [i]It must be the money, because guys that look like you don't get women like Victoria.[/i] His father, always an honest man, once said, "We're average men Grant, nothing wrong with that." And average was an accurate appraisal. Like his father, he had dirty blonde hair cut conservatively short and angular but symmetric features. His eyes though, were a gift from his mother. Ice blue and expressive, they were a painful reminder of things lost in the past. He was in good shape from a martial arts regimen that had been his passion for the past 13 years, but he'd never gotten the muscles to go along with the strength. He showered quickly and quietly and looked back into the bedroom. His suit was in a pile next to the bed.
		
"Grant?" Apparently he hadn't been quiet enough.
		
"Victoria, I'm sorry, I really need to go." He walked over and picked up his pants, feeling for his wallet. "Here, take this. Should be enough for a cab back to, uh, where'd you say you live?"
		
She stretched and rubbed her eyes. "Oh, I've got a place at The Marlowe, but honestly, I'm fine."
		
He pulled on the suit with practised motions. "If you're sure." He buckled his belt. "Room's paid for - your purse is in the bathroom. I saw a room service menu over there if you're hungry." She saw it too. Grant babbled when he felt guilty.
		
"I saw it too." Victoria picked up her phone off the night stand. "So, why the rush? Have a meeting or something?"
		
"Yeah, actually. I always get in around six, looks like I'll be late today though. Oh well, meeting's going to be boring anyway."
		
Victoria was polite enough to force a chuckle. "Where do you work?"
		
"Sullivan & Cromwell."

"Oh, so you're a lawyer then?"
		
"Guilty as charged," said Grant, then winced when he saw the clock. "Well, uh, have a good day."
		
The night stand buzzed. "Hang on," said Victoria, "You forgot your phone." She handed it to him and he saw the caller ID.
		
He headed for the door and tapped the screen. "Hey honey."
		
[b][i]17 January 2015 // 15:21 UTC-08:00[/i][/b]
		
"So, Mr... sorry, how do you pronounce that?"
		
Grant sighed. "Raskstål. It's Swedish." The office was one of the most inoffensive he'd ever been in. He didn't know if the splotches of color framed on the walls could rightly be called paintings. The furniture was simple and wooden. His chair was subtly uncomfortable. Likely it was all by design.
		
"Alright, I think I've got that Mr. Raskstål. As you probably know, I'm Dr. Hanson, but please just call me Jim." The psychologist smiled and adjusted his glasses as he looked up at Grant.
	
"Ok, Jim. Call me Grant. We going to start now?"
		
Jim pulled out a notebook and pen. "Sure Grant, let's get started. Can you tell me why you're here?" Jim had a soft, carefully modulated voice.
		
"Ever since the divorce I've been less productive at work. I'd like to fix that." Grant couldn't believe he was doing this. He was used to solving other people's problems, and he'd thought solving his own would be easy. He was wrong.
		
"I see. Can you tell me about yourself?"
		
"What do you want to know?"
		
"Start wherever you think is appropriate. We're just having a conversation here."
		
Grant thought about that for a moment. Things had been a blur for the past 7 years. Law school, marriage, work, divorce. He decided to be concise. "My mom was an American lawyer and my dad a Swedish fisherman. He's retired now. By the fact that I can afford your rate, you can probably guess whose footsteps I followed in. I had no life throughout high school other than class and studying; that won me an acceptance to Harvard where I spent four years doing Philosophy. After getting a 2.5 in my undergrad Harvard had second thoughts about me spending another two years at their law school. My mom pulled some strings and got me in at Princeton Law - I didn't deserve it. Sullivan & Cromwell hired me straight out of school and I moved to Manhattan and got married. I made a lot money there. I screwed around. One day, I just couldn't deal with it any more, so I told her. She filed for divorce. I asked for a transfer out to the boonies. So here I am." Grant looked out the picture window. The afternoon sun glinted off the L.A. skyline. January and 73 degrees. He hated California.
		
Jim was writing carefully in his notebook. After a few moments he looked back up. "I see. That's a lot to take in at once. Let's start with your parents. You said you 'followed in your mother's footsteps.' How does that make you feel?"
		
Grant sighed.

[b]Skills:[/b]
[list]
[*] Martial Arts: Grant has studied martial arts for 13 years. He is practiced in traditional Chinese Wing Chun, a 3-dan in Japanese Kendo, and has studied HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts), specifically the longsword.
[*] Law: Grant has studied United States law.
[/list]
[b]Elemental Cores:[/b]
[list]
[*] Aether
[*] Cold
[/list]
[b]Abilities:[/b]
[list]
[*] [b]Materialization of the Blade[/b] [Metal: Earth + Cold]: Condenses mana from the user's reservoir into the body's hand in order to materialize a sword or other bladed implement. For quick creation, the form of the blade must be memorized. New designs may take some practice before perfection of form is reached. Currently, Grant remembers the form of a European longsword and a Japanese katana from his time on Earth.
[*] [b]Mark of the Sojourner[/b] [Aether]: The user identifies a point on their line of sight and marks it with mana. This consumes a small amount of mana. The user may then consume more mana to travel through hyperspace to that location. A user may have multiple marks simultaneously, but the target mark must be on the user's line of sight to perform a hyperspace jump. The marks persist for several hours before they dissipate into the environment if they are not manually removed.
[*] [b]Serenity of the Dispassionate Mind[/b] [Cold + Aether] [Passive]: The user's mind is stable and not easily inflamed into rash or emotional behavior. This ability lends its user a certain cold, removed objectivity, as well as a resistance to less subtle mind-altering magics.
[/list]
[b]Possessions:[/b]
[list]
[*] [b]Tom Ford Charcoal Grey Suit:[/b] A $4000 suit with white shirt. The tie has been lost. The owner is likely compensating for something
[/list]
[/hider]