Brutal - 3 Fatalities

AFFILIATION

Alignment: Hero

Team: Sentinels

VITAL STATS

Strength: Superior

Agility: Superior

Mind: Superior

Body: Superior

RECORD

Personal Wins: 0

Personal Losses: 0

ThreeDark

In the beginning, in the true beginning as it was and shall always be when there is a beginning, there was Nothing. The Void was all inclusive and infinitesimally small and then, Creation Was. The Powers that Would Be felt it was prudent to Create and so they did, from this creation all matter was born. Stars formed and planets coalesced in what had once been pristine nothing, chaos and order clashed and came to an agreement and so the Multiverse was, the basis of all realities.~Soon, however, even this came to be boring to The Powers that Were. So, then, was The Arena created. In the light of a solitary blue star the Arena was placed and it was here that the Powers decided to center All Things. Beneath the arena, they placed the Crux, and with the Crux came the Allroad.~Through the Allroad the Arena was open to every corner of the Multiverse, and so they Came. Great beings with egos to prove and deific boredom to abate against the mounting eons. Yet, too, came the great Fluxes.~Any time a reality would die, devoured by the waiting Void, or would change in some significant way it reflects and pulses down the Allroad. Usually this has no discernible effect on the Arena or the Crux, however there are times when multiple realities die, appear, or both and it is then that the Crux has to adjust. This is a great Flux, and when there is a Flux the Arena dies. This death is never permanent but it is never the same afterwards. Usually, it comes back improved in some way, however there are also losses that occur. Fighters vanish, sometimes even The Powers that Are themselves change or vanish. There have been, in recorded existence, at least four such Fluxes.~After the last such Flux the most involved Power, a being with such power that when it walked amongst the cities that had grown around the Arena it's very presence would cause even the most simple electrical devices to malfunction and was known for this very fact, grew jaded. The Arena had become more of a chore than a pleasure, and rebuilding seemed no longer worth it. However, there was yet hope.~Over the eons that the Arena has existed, another singular Power had watched over the growing Arena from his ship in the cosmic Aether. As time marched on he and the Power of the Arena had conversed and gained a rapport. The Power that Watched was a veteran of varying degrees, having wandered the Multiverse and had his hand in innumerable activities even prior to the creation of the Crux. Following one of these along the Allroad had lead him to the Arena and he has been keeping track of it's activities since. At this point, the Power that Watched presented an offer to the Power of the Arena: He would bind himself to the Arena itself, becoming it's memory and serving as a backup should another Flux occur.~It was then, at this point, that Master Graves became a maintainer of balance in addition to his original role as a collector of information. Now with complete access to every bit of information that flows through the Arena he waits for those who would cheat The System. Watching the Game from his ship, the Osmena Pearl, deep within the cosmic Aether...

Master Graves is truly neither hero or villain. He is a Power, beyond mortal conceptions of morality and alignment. His purpose defines him as much as he defined his purpose. There is no distinction between what he does and what he is, and as much he works to protect himself from those who would act against the Arena. So, as such, he is often looked upon as a Hero of sorts, in that his activities benefit those who consider themselves on the side of Right.~He is both accessible and aloof, merciless and benevolent, those who spurn him find themselves dealt with before they even realize they have done any wrong. Those that knowingly act against him find themselves rebuked to the point of true impotence, unable to act under their own power any longer. Yet those who he befriends know he is an infinite resource of knowledge and is as resourceful as he is intelligent. The facets that Graves maintains are as numerous as those he watches over.

Te Ipsum

     Detective: Ultimate

Even before the binding, Graves kept a very detailed ranking system of other Players of the Game. So once he became one with the System, the complexity and scope of this ranking system increased a million fold.~At first it only included very basic statistics about the success rates of supported Arena Fighters. This slowly evolved to encompass the varying other bits of information available to other Players of the Game. Once the binding occurred, however, new worlds of data opened to him and he devoured it voraciously. Almost as literally as you can get when concerning multidimensional entities and concepts of information.~Once he had integrated these facts and calculated their relevancy to his ranking system he began to restructure the processed figures to use more readily in defense of the Arena. The greatest threats tend to come from within the castle walls and the greatest defenders are those who know what to expect.

Res Gestae

     Tactician: Standard

When a being that is approximately as old as time itself has consented to become at least partially made of pure information, it is safe to assume that this being knows what it is doing. A keen mind given access to inexhaustible versatility is sure to come naturally to tactics.~This is not to say, of course, that Graves has a plan for everything. That is not the way that he works, more to the point, he plays to play not to win. It is not that he does not appreciate the possibility of winning, just that the journey is more important than the destination.~Indeed, a plan for everything is unnecessary. All you need to do is be adaptable. As the Game changes, so should you. Unpredictability is as appropriate as stability within a system built for directed chaos. So too does Graves' mind shift and turn, weighing possibilities and adjusting tactics as they may be needed for the longest and most enjoyable Gaming.~The Game would not be worth playing if we knew what was going to happen.

Onus Probandi

     Force of Will: Standard

When a mind such as Graves' focuses, neither hell nor high water is enough to derail it from it's highly specialized tracks. This is if you can even call it a mind in any sort of conventional or singular sense. Perhaps Graves' mind is actually some sort of collective consciousness, the manifest sentience of the Arena itself. Perhaps he has merely become the natural result of such knowledge collected and compressed for such a long period of time.~In any case, no matter the truth of the matter, Graves' mental prowess is indomitable. When his mind is set, there is little that deviates the thought process. A centered mind is a strong mind, and a strong mind is difficult to resist. Graves' mind is not so much centered, but his is more the exception that proves the rule. The mind that attacks from multiple directions is harder to resist than that which follows a singular path.

Semper Vigilo

     Thermal Vision: Standard

What, exactly, does knowledge look like. Were one able to visualize reality as such. Would it be the common line of thought that it would appear as eternally sprawling lines of undecipherable code? Or perhaps it would be some abstract cosmological formula that shifted constantly with the inclusion and subtraction of the infinite variables of reality. Mayhap, there is a middle ground, a shifting transcendental representation of existence with swirling glowing color that goes beyond our wildest expectations.~Graves could tell you, were he inclined to do as much. However, how does one who sees information describe it in a way that would make sense to those who do not. Whose primary senses are of sight and sound. When color is both a play of light and a hexadecimal and a chemical reaction in the ocular nerves how do you describe it so it does not confuse? A quandary, to say the least. Nevertheless, Graves sees the world in it's most basic form: All inclusive, unadulterated, Fact.

Passim

     Teleportation: Standard

Knowledge flows easily from place to place and is rarely hindered. It is, unsurprisingly, that Graves himself can flicker through reality just as easily. Especially when such as it concerns the Arena. He is, of course, known as one who does not waste any movement. He walks only when it suits him and does not extend himself too far with his powers of Teleconveyance. He finds it sufficient enough to blink meager distances in order to best locate those he seeks and to maintain his own mysterious aire.~Or, of course, shifting his consciousness ahead to account for any tactical adjustments, should it come to defending himself against a perpetrator of the System. Arriving instantly in the location of suspicious activities and watching until as such a time he deems it prudent to make a move against those who would attempt to destabilize the Game for their own selfish wants.

Corrigenda

     Psychic Vampire: Standard

• Ranged Attack Only
• Auto-Hit Attack

It is said that the Truth hurts.~Should you come to fall under the wrath of Master Graves, you will know all too well how much so.~Graves is not one to use violence in any direct manner. In fact he refuses to do so on his own. This has never stopped him from accommodating fighters that are little more than Violence given physical form, but that is neither here and now. Such actions are best left for those who's only recourse is physical retaliation.~No, Graves never attacks. Only speaks.~Words echoing the deepest truths his infinite mind contains about those he confronts. Each fact driving itself like a hammer and chisel against a stone wall. Perhaps merely cracking at first but crumbling after the following blow. Strengthened by the weakness of the mind it is devouring. These words do not merely destroy, they clarify the mind and show it the error of it's ways. They show the world for what it is and render the mind incompetent as it is forced to contemplate the nature of existence. As though they were forced from it, never allowed to return by will of the Crux.