Name:
Graham Gavin Turner

Nicknames/Titles:
Shrimp. Pipsqueak. Ginger. Red. Fairy. Pansy. The Spaztastic Mr. Turner. Look, we’re talking about a short, scrawny, pale, redheaded, nerdy, gay guy with a hair-trigger temper and glasses. He’s like a playground bully’s wet dream. Chances are good that that clever little quip bouncing around in the ol’ thinker? Yeah, he’s heard it before.

Age:
16

Gender:
Male

Race:
Human

Sexuality:
Homosexual

Year:
Fourth Year

Ranking Class:
Warlock

Magic:

Medela:
-Rapid Regeneration-

Fell and got a nasty scrape? A particularly bad boo boo? Don’t worry, Graham’s got you.

As a Medela mage, healing is the name of the game. Graham’s particular magic is no exception. Rapid Regeneration does...well...what it says. The guy can accelerate the body’s natural healing rate. How much? Enough so to make most intermediate non-fatal wounds disappear in a matter of minutes, with more minor wounds going away in seconds. But it really does hurt like hell. And don’t even ask about major non-fatal wounds. He can take care of them, alright, but it’s going to take a while and being incredibly, excruciatingly painful. So fun times for all!

But though it may be magic, he’s not capable of miracles. Fatal wounds are a bit above his skill level. While not impossible, the dude’s got to be on the ball. As in both he and the target bursting with energy, preferably with a juicy donor nearby, in a nice, quiet, secluded area immediately after the wound occurs. So long as it’s not an instant death and he’s already right there, there’s a very slim chance he may be able to do something. Otherwise, he can try to buy as much time as possible, but if somebody’s already passing through Death’s Door, he’s not going to be able to pull them back. He’s good, but death is better.

Now this can all be done via range or close contact. The ranged healing is something rather new to Graham, but he’s quickly getting the hang of things. He can reliably heal from about twenty yards away. But it’s not going to do much at the range. Rule of thumb: the closer Graham is to the wound, the more effective he can be. So it’s definitely preferable for him to get all handsy, but sometimes a guy’s gotta go with the flow.

Strengths:
Graham’s healing is strong enough to combat most injuries rather easily. And so long as he’s either nice and refreshed, or the target is bursting with energy, he can patch up the person in question rather quickly to boot! Depending on how close Graham can get to the wound, he can be rather precise. And the more precise he is, the less effort is required on both his part and the target’s.

While the ideal situation for a heal is the target remaining still while Graham violates their personal bubble, it’s not required. So long as they’re in range of either his healing hands or the ranged variant, and he’s still focused, he can work his magic. Great for in-combat repairs. Terrible for broken bones.

Luckily for everyone involved, this magic does NOT require intimate knowledge of the body to be effective. So long as the body is remotely capable of repairing itself, Graham can supercharge it. Excellent for healing up non-human individuals. Also great because trust this unseen writer, Reader, you don’t want this guy making medical decisions.

Weaknesses:
So there’s got to be a catch, right? Surely somebody couldn’t be that handsome, talented, awesome, cool, and powerful, right? DING DING DING! RIGHT YOU ARE, DEAR READER! Why, aren’t you the smart little cookie. Speaking of which, have one. Go on. It’ll be our little secret.

The catch would be the energy required for such feats. Little bumps and bruises and the occasional scratch are all fine and dandy. Graham could heal those up all day and be just fine. No, the problem comes with the much larger boo boos. The ones that are sadly much too common in this hellho- err...lovely school. Large wounds, burns, cuts, etc., not only eat up the lad’s mana pool something fierce, they require energy. Whether supplied by the target or Graham himself, it doesn’t really matter. The mana and energy cost associated with the healing depends on the size and complexity of the wound as well as the desired rate of repair. The quicker the fix, the higher the tax.

As mentioned above, the energy supplied in the healing process can be supplied by either Graham, the target, or a donor. That’s...only partially true. Should Graham be healing from a distance, the burden of energy lies with the target. If they don’t have enough energy or nutrients for the repair, the body will rapidly eat fat and muscle to acquire it. This can quickly lead to a person becoming malnourished, so it’s advised to be incredibly careful. Healing a gaping chest wound is great and all, but it the target is just going to essentially starve immediately afterwards, it’s kind of a moot point, no?

If he wants to donate his own (or a third party’s), he’s got to have physical contact (in case of the latter, he’s gotta have physical contact with both the target and the donor). And in either case, he has to remain focused on the repair: getting distracted will disrupt the acceleration. It doesn’t help that he’s not exactly the healthiest guy around either. So more often than not he relies on the target for the energy donation. Heavier people make for the best patients here, so go eat yer damn cheeseburgers, people!

Now let’s address the elephant in the room: how does this boy fight? Quite simply, he doesn’t. Medela: Rapid Regeneration has zero offensive application. Well...he could always try to heal his opponent into submission but uh...if his foe is willing to forfeit after the equivalent of a gentle caress, he probably wasn’t in much trouble anyway.
And don’t worry, Reader, I know what you’re thinking. “But Beautiful Writer Man! Couldn’t Graham just constantly heal himself and cause a stalemate?”

Oh, Dear Reader, you flatter me...that’s another cookie! But to answer your question: sadly no, he cannot.

Graham is unable to use his magic on himself, outside of repairing very minor wounds. Why? Well...when the body heals normally, there’s not much discomfort. Maybe a little irritation, but that’s it. When Graham ramps up the acceleration...Mother of God, it’s painful. REALLY PAINFUL. No, it won’t damage the body, that’d be counter-productive, but the pain is enough to make concentrating insanely difficult. And since Graham needs to focus to use his ability...well, connect the dots. It’s just a no go.

What rotten luck, eh?

“Well, what if he just constantly overcharged his enemy’s regeneration?”

Careful, Reader. You’re cute and all, but don’t be too pushy. The problem with that is simply that the body can only heal up so much. After a certain point, the boy would just be wasting his mana while doing fuck all to the other guy. Just trust us when we say that he’s not exactly the guy you want to bet on winning the Golden Gloves.

Catalyst:
His glasses, oddly enough, act as his catalyst. Runes are inscribed on the inside of the arms, but the motherlode would be the lenses. Written incredibly small, runes are carved on the glass, from top to bottom, left to right. Luckily for Graham, they are made so small and light, that they do not hinder his vision. And while at first it did bug him something fierce, he has managed to basically completely ignore them. Just don’t point it out to him or he’ll obsess over it for hours.

Inventory:
-Janky little prepaid cell phone
-Janky little pen
-Janky little pocket notepad
-Chewing Gum
-Glasses Case
-Lens Cloth

Familiar:
n/a

Squad Name:
n/a

Personality:
Some people are content to bask in silence, pondering the nature of the universe and one’s self. Graham would not be one of those people. A loud foul-mouthed hothead with a silver tongue and a rather low boiling point resides in the frail outer shell. Graham is one to find something to talk about with anyone. He hasn’t met a stranger yet. Not to say that he is beloved by one and all. He’s usually a pretty blunt guy, saying what comes to mind be it cruel, stupid, or otherwise. Not that he means to be rude, his filter is just terrible and he is a TALKER. Understandably, some people don’t like that. Naturally, those same people can kindly go fuck themselves for all he cares.

The boy’s also a coward. Bears, heights, spiders, bears, fires, large bodies of water, bears, darkness, bears, death, the supernatural, large crowds, bears, serial killers, supernatural bears...the list just goes on and on. Basically, don’t give the kid a medal for bravery or courage. You’ll just be insulting the other winners. When right spooked, Graham’s verbal diarrhea increases tenfold, with even less of a filter and the fear shuts out the anger completely. It’s a nervous reaction or something. Feel free to slap him out of his hysteria.

So Graham considers himself a pacifist. As such, the boy won’t fight and quite frankly, it wouldn’t help him much anyway. He’s little more than skin and bones. His arm would likely snap in two if he tried to punch anybody. Besides, he’d rather hit a fool with a few harsh words than a harsh roundhouse kick. Also, Graham is unable to perform roundhouse kicks, so uh...yeah.

The lad, mainly due to his unfortunate combination of genes, has been a target of bullying for...well, most of his school life. That made him a bit weary of people, of course...but it also made him rather desperate for acceptance. As such, he’ll make friends with literally anyone that’ll have him. Even if they are freaky, potentially cannibalistic stalkers. Ugh. Graham, like an idiot, can’t bring himself to refuse somebody’s request. If they’re being cool to him, he wants to keep that. So he’ll bend over backwards, breaking his back if need be, just to keep ‘em happy. Oh, the places he could go if he just learned how to say no...

Backstory:

Liseranna…

Graham’s still not convinced that there wasn’t some sort of mix-up that got him involved with the place. It really felt like a dream. In one moment, there he was, some snot-nosed kid barely getting by in some shithole town in the middle of Kentucky. The next moment, boom! Congrats kid, you’ve won the Magical Lottery Jackpot. Go directly to Liseranna Academy. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Well, perhaps it was a bit more complicated than that. But it really did seem to come out of nowhere. He was the only magic user in a family of six, and despite looking back as far as possible, he couldn’t find another user on either side of the family. Liseranna was...well, honestly it was just a joke application. He didn’t REALLY think he’d get in. After all, he was skating by with a solid C- in school. But apparently he had a little bit of a knack for magic. Go figure. Well, maybe it would be alright. He could go learn how to use an actual gift, rather than wasting his life away in a factory. He could make some friends and maybe even find love!

Worst mistake of his life.

Shortly after starting, he met the evil, evil, evil, cruel, monsterous black shadow that would loom over him for the next two years. It called itself Meredith Hillard. But the boy could recognize Ol’ Scratch when he saw ‘em. Or if she wasn’t the devil himself, she was damn close to it. And this was a place with ACTUAL demons walking around. It didn’t matter. She was more evil.

Still, when that THING approached him asking for help, his will shattered and his pride abandoned him. It’s amazing, really. One can prepare oneself to take any action one wishes, but the moment one stares death in the face, one suddenly becomes much more flexible. Again, this place housed even a couple literal personifications of death, but Meredith was much more intimidating. So he agreed to help her learn his sort of magic. Medela, as it were.

And after that, she didn’t leave. Rather, she clung tighter. She claimed they were close friends, but Graham could see through her. He could see the darkness at her very core...

And he was honestly terrified of her. Disobeying her was out of the question. Especially when she decided that she was done lugging around a catalyst...and she...well...she had him…

We don’t speak of THAT time. Ugh…

Still, it wasn’t all terrible. The lad managed to make a few other friends. And he wasn’t dead yet. That was always a plus. Outside of a back-alley surgery, the guy’s had a relatively average school life. Well...as average as one can have at an academy that catered to magic, mayhem, and things which should not exist.

But he’s a fourth year now. All he had to do was keep his head down and not die. He’s technically in the homestretch now, yeah? And the universe couldn’t possibly hate him enough to take another hearty dump on him...right?

Right?!