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[color=#ffcc99]Graham Tosches[/color]
[color=#ffcc99]◆[/color]22 [color=#ffcc99]◆[/color] March 15 [color=#ffcc99]◆[/color] 5'10"[color=#ffcc99]◆[/color]Guardian
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[sub][color=#ffcc99]◆ A P P E A R A N C E[/color][/sub]
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Graham is the product of a peculiar set of genetic coding and overall outward stimulus to produce something akin to a well made building of sorts. His is the body of the Vitruvian Man, a body seemingly constructed from the outset with the goals of a rigid symmetry to it, each part focused and melded into the next as easily as the underlying network of sinew and bone beneath the skin works. Graham was always a relatively slender child partly due to the active metabolism he thanklessly acquired from his mother and partly because of his own state of growing up where food sometimes did not grace his presence for days at a time. Training at Oakridge had supplemented this adding well needed muscle and mass to a frame that was once barely a husk. Though he is still what most would be considered of a slender frame not as large as some of his other male compatriots his is a body meant not for brute force but rather built around speed and of acrobatic skill used to surmount obstacles in quick and effective maneuvers

The rest of his outward appearance serve as fractured glimpses at the soul that resides within. His hair flaxen, is kept long and unkempt as if Graham had not brought comb or brush to it in years, each wayward strand moved in its own direction as if having a mind of its own. Slight hints of a growing mustache crest upon his upper lip and strands of hair dance about his chin but the rest of his jawline seems free of any major sort of growth. His eyes, a light blue something akin to the sky on a clear day and despite his own circumstances and life are bright and hold a fragment of hope to them, hope for a better future, hope for anything really. The smile that will more than occasionally ghost over his face is in direct contrast to the rest of his body crooked and the teeth themselves seem perfectly unconcerned with uniformity in terms of size and alignment not that he seems to care. Though there is one more curious imperfection in the outward symmetry and that are his arms stretching from the tips of his fingers to where they meet the shoulder they are covered in marks: a series of patchwork cuts and burns that dance haphazardly across his skin seemingly chemical in nature.

Graham's choice of clothing is plain and is based more on function than outward appearance. Most takes the form of athletic gear in shades of gray and black almost always accommodated by a pair of well worn sneakers whose laces are a vibrant pink in color.
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[sub][color=#ffcc99]◆ I D E O L O G Y[/color][/sub]
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[i]Always. Keep. Running.[/i] These three simple words are the driving mantra of the young Tosches's life. He realized from a very young age that if you end up depending on others, it all ends up going to shit eventually. So to be happy, to be content you just gotta pick a path and just keep on running. People are going to try and slow you down but you can't let them, you just keep on running and don't look back because there is nothing back there for you, everything is ahead of you. This results in something of a odd foundation for his life; he seeks thrills and pushes forward without thought of consequences. It's a spontaneity not of childish glee but of the primal frantic state of a stricken animal being hunted, blindly pushing ahead just trying to get away.

Despite this if one manages to 'catch' Graham or at least manage to keep up with his frantic almost self-destructive vigor they will find he is at least personable. Graham believes highly in giving people a chance - note the singular tense of the word. He is amicable to those around him generally the life of every non-existent party focused almost singularly minded on finding that next rush. Life to him is something of a game, a terribly cruel game where the deck is stacked against your favor, the rules are vague and clouded at best and everything you do seems to have no inherent meaning to it but a game nevertheless. He laughs at the seemingly nonexistent joke whose punchline has been lost by time as he himself spirals deeper and deeper towards the ground.

Despite this he is in desperately over his head and he knows it. He is a coward, not the hero that the world is waiting for; a lowly fool in a gambit meant for kings. The dark ichor of self doubt and self destruction swirls about him and threatens to throw him off of an already precarious balancing act. But that's what it all really is isn't it? An act. A play in which he is nothing but an actor playing his part during the past to convince those around him that he is nothing but a charming if a bit off centered adrenaline junkie but eventually the curtain has to fall.
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[sub][color=#ffcc99]◆ B A C K G R O U N D[/color][/sub]
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The crashing of water against sandy beaches a dark gray in color a mixture of decomposing wood fibers and volcanic ash. The modest city of Tyre stood against the ocean far to the southwest of Oakridge. The town was known for its relaxed and almost resort-like atmosphere that hung in the air and was a popular locale for vacationer wanting to escape away to a softer world if only for a moment of time. The primarily lifeline of the city beside it's tourism was of course Nexus Industries who had created a large offshore power plant that loomed on the horizon built to harvest the geothermic energies deep underneath the ocean waves. Graham's father Ulysses was a systems technician at the plant and his mother Claribel served as a teacher at one of the local schools. Graham was the first child of two, the second a younger sister Anna was two years younger.

Then everything changed. Soon ideas of vacations and relaxation quickly vanished as the Calamity struck. Tyre lost its most stable source of income and became even more heavily dependent on the mysterious power plant out at sea for their main source of income. Many were recruited and shipped off to fight creatures that they could not possibly comprehend, Graham's father being one of them recruited as a field engineer to service the many arms and armaments used in the defense of the world. Like so many others like him the last time Graham would see his father was him waving goodbye from the window of a train as he was ushered off with the hope and desire to protect his family. He would die several weeks later claimed by the war like many others before him.

Alone and taking care of two young children Claribel tried her best to provide for them but it was not enough. As more and more left Tyre many concerned that the tremendous flooding that had swept across most of the continent would hit them next fled to the safety of land further in. Soon the city itself was a small fragment of what it once was and many of Graham early childhood memories are wandering those streets with his sister. But mysteriously enough the flooding that had conquered many other coastal towns and cities sweeping them beneath the waves did not claim Tyre. The water remained rough but low enough to keep it underneath the flood barriers. Some of the survivors pointed this 'miracle' to the power plant off shore and the seemingly memorizing waltz of lights and flashes that came from it during the night. Those still employed at the plant though maintained that all it did was it's original intended purpose.

Then something cataclysmic happened. Graham was ten and the air that night was unnaturally frantic high winds whipping across the lonely streets. He and his sister watched from their bedroom window out at the sea. The horizon was alight with a crimson glow as the power plant at sea glowed furiously with a light that had not been seen before. The glow became brighter and brighter until the sky itself seemed almost awash with red daylight and then a beam of seemingly light pierced through the main tower of the plant and a large explosion followed. Almost immediately following the explosion, the sea churned and moved with a torrent and great waves of water swept over the flood walls of the city. Claribel was one such soul to be swept away in the resulting torrent. The city was left like a decaying piece of driftwood, corpse swept out to sea.

In the early morning of the next day, a 'relief' team came from Nexus Industries members of their private security force. The survivors thought that they came to help but the truth was revealed quickly after as the gunshots began to ring out. Whatever had happened at the offshore plant was not supposed to happen, it was a fluke, a mistake, a mistake that had killed hundreds within the city. It was something that Nexus needed to not escape, not to be spoken off. The official story was that Tyre was swept away by the ocean that night, but Graham remembers what happened. Through sheer luck and tenacity Graham was able to ghost him and his sister out underneath the defense perimeter that had been formed by Nexus' men and escaped. Eventually they found their way to Cetra where they managed to vanish in the slums like many others before them.

Eventually Anna would die in those slums of common sickness as they were too poor to get proper medical treatment for her. She would die with a smile on her face telling her older brother a simple joke from a time long ago. It was in this rage and grief induced state that Graham found out he was a guardian, several weeks later they found him. He did'nt know how they did but they did they found him in a gutter only a few days before he would've jumped and just ended it all. He needed to forget and they needed soldiers. It was a perfect match really. Soon afterward he was shipped out to Oakridge.
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[sub][color=#ffcc99]◆ W A R F A R E[/color][/sub]
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Graham uses a rather interesting trick weapon that he lovingly has nicknamed Sera. Usually Sera appears as two metallic daggers that fit very comfortably in his hands and uses them to perform a flurry of blows at very rapid speeds cutting into an alien threat. These two blades can join together as the handles slide into one another and the two daggers become a strange thing which could mostly easily be described as a bladed boomerang. Graham uses a style of fluidity with the variations of the weapon using it to keep forward momentum going carving inwards with his blades than using his acrobatic ability to make distance when he is overwhelmed but continue the assault with the boomerang.

[sub][color=#ffcc99]◇ Delvosh[/color]|[color=#B9BABC]Lighting[/color]|[color=0072bc]+Frenzy[/color] The spirit engulfs Graham in a thundering cascade of electrical energy empowering his strikes but also channeling attacks that strike him with the same power
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Kreos[/color]|[color=#B9BABC]Fire[/color]|[color=ed1c24]-Curse[/color] The Spirit encases a foe in a burning embrace preventing it from being healed.  
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Tywin[/color]|[color=#B9BABC]Lighting[/color]|[color=0072bc]+Empower Fanatic[/color][color=0072bc]+Leech[/color] [color=ed1c24]+Pain[/color] The Spirit grants Graham increased attacking abilities and allows for him to gain life from the damage he causes to his foes but it opens his defense up to more pain
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Lesalo[/color]|[color=#B9BABC]Fire[/color]|[color=0072bc]+Protect [/color][color=0072bc]+Shell[/color] [color=ed1c24]+Zombie[/color] The Spirit surrounds Graham in glowing and fiery aura that makes him more resilient to attacks made against him but for as long as the protection is maintained any healing done to the boy will cause the flames to strike inward towards Graham.[/sub]
   
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[sub][color=#ffcc99]◆ A S P E K T S[/color][/sub]
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[color=#ffcc99]◇ Fanatic[/color]
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Adept [/color]
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Lancer[/color]
[color=#ffcc99]◇ Lucky [/color]
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[center][color=#ffcc99][sub][i]◆ Secondary Characters ◆[/i]
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[hider=Roxelana  Cacciatore]
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[color=#6A5B7E]Roxelana ‘Roxie’ Cacciatore[/color]
[color=#6A5B7E]◆[/color] 23 [color=#6A5B7E]◆[/color] October 11[sup]th[/sup] [color=#6A5B7E]◆[/color]5’11”[color=#6A5B7E]◆[/color] Guardian 
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[sub][color=#6A5B7E]◆ A P P E A R A N C E[/color][/sub]
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Roxelana is the prime and proper expectation of somebody that grew up in the upper echelons of high society where money and power come in great amounts. Elegant is the word that is mostly easily used to describe the girl as her body seems to flow together cohesively with each lithe muscle moving in concentrated tandem with one another. Her pale skin below is a subtle patchwork of light scars that run up and down her body produced in her training with her father long ago as the rapiers clashed until blood was drawn. The muscles were earned not bestowed upon her and the time she spends focused on personal fitness primarily in relation to the heavy training regime she runs through every day primarily focused on deadly efficiency. This mixture of fine tuned femininity and deadly efficiency speaks volumes of the duality of the girl.

Her attire is generally of darker shades mostly blacks consisting of standard attires of zip-up sweatshirts, loose fitting tee shirts beneath, tightly fitting pants and some impressive looking combat boots.[/indent]

 [sub][color=#6A5B7E]◆ I D E O L O G Y[/color][/sub]
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In a perfect world those fighting for the safety of the world are heroes. They fight for courageous causes and for the betterment of humanity. They value human life and they follow strict moral codes that keep them down the straight and narrow. In a perfect world knights in shining armor are not just relegated to fairy tales. Libra is far from a perfect world and it’s knights are far from galant paladins of virtue. Roxie is something akin to a blunt instrument than a hero that once set upon a task will complete it no matter the cost. Moral codes hold no sway and are as easy to pick up and drop as cards. This strong conviction results in a savage ruthlessness of a whirling dervish with no qualms of taking lives and burning down the bridges that lay behind her. Each task completed with a deadly combination of precision focus and seemingly suicidal fearlessness.

This brutal exterior is juxtaposed against a sense of charm  and sophistication that is carried with each step of her feet. A sweet and considerate voice thrown off by the dead eyes of a well tuned killing machine. For in the end society, friends, and even close allies serve the same purpose as a well used tool; they are means to an end upon which goals are met. The honey like sweetness can quickly turn bitter into something much more akin to coarse and callous contempt. A cynic who is able to wear the mask of an optimist in order to fulfil an agenda.

This outright rejection of the standard fare of heroic virtue is matched only by a deeply set pathological rejection of authority based on unresolved childhood issues. These outside visage of cold and brutal efficiency is brought down inwardly by repressed personal issues of insecurity, abandonment among others. Friends and family are concepts that are now strangely foreign as even those she draws in close are held at an icy distance in the end. In her own mind she slipped too far already and can only proceed to go deeper all the while plagued by the fading fragment of her morality as the face in the mirror looking back at her seems strange and alien.

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[sub][color=#6A5B7E]◆ B A C K G R O U N D[/color][/sub]
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Roxelana Cacciatore was born into the lonely and snow covered world of Valeheist. Valehesit  stands alone nestled deep into the foreboding and treacherous Rajim Mountain range nestled within northern Suji. Valeheist a land plentiful in resources prospered greatly due to its trade contracts with the mighty and powerful. This lonely city-state surrounded by soaring crags and peaks held a deep secret that lay beneath a facade of prosperity and upper class sophistication. Bound in blood and tradition the people of Valeheist did what many would consider unthinkable or lead to damnation, built upon the long dead corpse of a great Eidolon the people of Valeheist studied the creature, study which lead to insane dreams of power and conquest leading them to not live in coexistent with the spirits that surround them but rather harness their power into a sort of forced enslavement similar to the use of Aggressors to fuel their industry and progress.

The leader of this vile and dark place was the Regent of Valeheist, a man seemingly turned immortal by his harnessing the spirit's power. Those in Valeheist knew him as the Undying lord, a messiah like figure that brought them great prosperity and prestige even as the world around them burned Roxelana knew the Undying Lord as father. She was born to his wife rather than one of the many whores that he had occasional dalliances with time and again and so was treated with all the respect and privilege that came with such a position. She grew up in the great castle like fortress that served as the center of the city, a series of towering spires dark as the void that stretched high into the sky and dominated the skyline of Valeheist. 

It soon became apparent that Roxelana much like her father had a queer aptitude towards attracting spirits and harnessing their powers, the only of the regents children to have such. Due to this the girl was treated as special rather than having a tutor like her other siblings, Roxelana was taught personally by her father to groom her into becoming a suitable heir to take over Valeheist from him when the time was right. He taught her everything from culture and etiquette to more important things like combat and treachery through this he ingrained his bitter and jaded worldview into his young daughter teaching her to only care about success and getting the job done.

It was around this time that a great darkness began to fall over Valeheist something which threatened to consume all those within. A corruption very much similar to the Stigma caused by the Mordhem but this was artificially caused by the people of Valeheist on rampant greed towards their seemingly endless ascent towards godhood. Man became nothing more than mindless husks and soon masses of these terrible human abominations slammed against  the doors of the Valeheist Castle. It was here that Roxelana’s father made a deal with those in a far away place in exchange for secrets and power his daughter was given safe passage and a place at Oakridge. She was ushered through the teleporter just as the beasts outside had broken through the door. After that all communication from the lonely city grew silent becoming nothing more than a cold dead corpse laying in the snow. The fate of Roxelana’s father remaining unknown to this day.

Roxelana was eleven years old when she arrived at Oakridge. Because of the girls mysterious origins she naturally drew others to her. Only for them to drift away as they found her as cold as the mountain home that she once knew. From that point onward she vowed to continue the dreams of her father, to return to Valeheist and raise it back to the pinnacle of civilization it once was. But first she needed to become stronger, much much stronger.
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[sub][color=#6A5B7E]◆ W A R F A R E[/color][/sub]
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Roxie’s weapon style revolves around brutally elegant  simplicity and she carries a trick weapon to match that style. In its standard appearance it as an elegant rapier with a underslung shotgun barrel jutting from its hilt used in combination Roxie slams the blade into her opponents before blasting them at close range. Though for situations that require more finesse or long range solutions the barrel extends and it becomes a sturdy rifle with the rapier blade now serving as a bayonet of sorts. [/indent] 
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[sub][color=#6A5B7E]◇Mrak[/color] [ [color=#B9BABC]Dark[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Imperil[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Pain[/color]] The spirits seem to burst forth from the veins in the girl's arm with a tremendous fury. Tendril in appearance black as pitch they circle about the girl's arm and upon a swift gesture they lash out from the arm lashing about an opponent and encircling them opening them up to attacks most viscous indeed. These spirits value savagery and anger.
[color=#6A5B7E]◇Toride[/color] [ [color=#B9BABC]Holy[/color] ] [ [color=0072bc]+Protect[/color] ] [ [color=0072bc]+Shell[/color]] The spirits appear as a burst of fierce light coming down from the heavens upon slamming into Roxie or an ally bestowing a translucent sheen of glowing particles about protecting them that harden into a sparkling crystalline shield upon impact protecting them from incoming damage feeding upon convictions most strong indeed nearly bordering on zealousness and dogma. 
[color=#6A5B7E]◇Sundara[/color] [ [color=#B9BABC]Dark[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Meltdown[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Curse[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Terror[/color] ] [ [color=ed1c24]-Nightmare[/color] ][ [color=ed1c24]+Vampire[/color]]  These spirits are most vile indeed responding to the most simplistic and primordial of emotions fear. They take the very fears and self doubts which drive young Roxie forward and channel them into a great destructive force. Veins go black as the void of oblivion and the eyes themselves cloud over with darkness and from an outstretch palm as torrent of dark energy is released at an opponent blasting them with necrotic energy. But upon use the darkness lingers upon Roxie opening her up to attacks of a more righteous sort.
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[sub][color=#6A5B7E]◆ A S P E K T S[/color][/sub]
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[color=#6A5B7E]◇ Ravager [/color]
[color=#6A5B7E]◇ Synergist[/color]
[color=#6A5B7E]◇ Saboteur[/color]
[color=#6A5B7E]◇ Sentinel [/color]
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