[Brodie Grant]

Brodie Ryan Grant
FACE CLAIM: Tom Hughes

♦ THE BASICS ♦

AGE: Twenty-Five
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
POSITION: Reporter and Photographer

♦ THE ABILITY ♦

POWER: Gravity Manipulation
Brodie has the ability to manipulate the gravitational field within a ten foot radius of himself. This can make objects feel to weigh more or less depending on the shift. If he concentrates enough, he can focus his ability around specific objects that are within that radius, but it is much more draining to do so.

LIMITATIONS:
He does not have the ability to change the gravity two ways at the same time (making one object seem heavy and another one next to it seem incredibly light). The further an object is away, the harder it is to do a dramatic shift. Size also effects his abilities; it is impossible to make a car float off the ground or a pebble so heavy that it cannot be picked up. The wider the radius he effects, the less he can shift the gravitational field. He has no other control over anything that he changes the gravitational field around.

SIDE-EFFECTS:
It's almost impossible to gather an accurate weight reading on Brodie. When he uses his ability, a headache almost always follows, growing worse depending on the duration and what he is manipulating. He also easily misjudges the weight of items in their natural state. He can become lightheaded and get muscle cramps as well.

♦ THE FREEFORM ♦

Do you miss her?
I never had the opportunity to. She was gone before I was here.

He played over the facts again in his mind. From such a young age, he had to learn of how easily a life could be lost. People asked why he didn't have a mother, and he always gave the short story. Car accident. He spared them the details of still being in her womb when the vehicle was hit from behind and pushed into an intersection, or how he had been born two weeks early because they couldn't save his mother. Technically, it was a miracle he lived. When the young boy would think on it too much, his father would remind him of that. He was a miracle - because the man would have never survived the loss of his wife were it not for the birth of his son. It gave him reason to push forward.

Raising a son single handed was no easy task, but his father tried his best. There were long hours put into work, but he always came home with a smile. He always insured there was a meal on the table, even if it wasn't executed in the best way, and there was always a book to read to Brodie at night.


How did you feel when your abilities manifested?
Miserable. I had to leave my home and move to a new country.

"What?" It was the first word that had escaped his mouth since the recruiters had knocked on the door. He felt the comforting hand of his father against his shoulder.

"There isn't a facility in Germany?" His father asked, voicing the confusion they both felt. "Why must he go to England? He's only twelve." The recruiters did their best to sell St. Bethany to them, even if it meant that Brodie would have to move. They also made it clear he didn't have much of a choice.

The young boy stood up, hands curling into fists before he ran up into his bedroom, the door slamming behind him. Just because his camera had started floating around him a couple days ago didn't mean he deserved this sort of punishment. He hid his face into his pillow, curling up on his bed. It must have been hours before his dad came in, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"It looks like you have to go, Brodie."


Did the idea of someone new being in your father's life bother you?
No. It'd been thirteen years. But it wasn't my opinion anyone was concerned about.

Gathered for a dinner to meet someone important. Actually, two important someones. A woman, whom Brodie had never seen nor heard of before in his life, and her son. Now him - he was familiar. He'd seen the boy around St. Bethany, but had never engaged. He looked like the sort of person that would punch you just for looking at him strangely in the hallway. When Brodie looked at him now, it looked like he was going to punch both him just or existing, and he hadn't even made eye contact with him or his father yet.

This was going to be great.

He spared a glance at his father, but his gaze was so fixated on her that he hadn't noticed.


"That's my brother, you piece of shit!" is what he yelled out.
Was it odd that he referred to you as a brother before your father and his mother married?
Strangely no. It seemed right. We were family after that.

It wouldn't have been the first time he'd been beaten up.

Books had scattered across the ground, an old camera following only moments later. Broody Brodie they liked to call him, just because he was reserved. Because he didn't play sports and spent more time in a dark photo lab than at parties.

As if his things weren't enough, Brodie felt the force of a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down towards the ground. It was probably the first time he'd ever fought back in his life, and all he'd tried to do was stay on his feet. It was enough of a challenge to the group of boys that were so determined to harass him. Fists curled around the collar of his shirt. Despite his height, he had nothing on the guys.

Suddenly, he was let go of. Bright blue eyes grew wide as they saw the backpack that had just collided with the person threatening him. Then he was there.


It was a small wedding, but beautiful. Perfect for them.
Did you photograph it?
No. My father wanted me there. Present instead of behind a lens. I had to give him that.

He looked nervous. Brodie couldn't recall the last time he'd seen his father so worked up. He supposed he would be too, if he stood there waiting for the love of his life to walk down the isle. Standing by his side, Brodie offered his dad a smile.

The doors opened, and there they were - the two that would become legally bonded as family - but had already felt that way for a while now. Another glance at his dad and he could see the water welling in the blue eyes he passed down to him. They had never talked about finding love past Brodie's mother, but in that moment it didn't matter. It seemed that the universe brought these two together for this exact moment.

"I'm glad you've found her," Brodie whispered before she took the stage with them.


You were angry with him?
Of course I was. He's smarter than the army.

Eli had been gone for months now, and Brodie had started to make his own mark in the journalism world. People loved his skills with a camera, even if they'd argue that he'd do too much to get an image a quote. The scrawny boy had a little scrap in him, after all. It just took the right push.

This though? This was absurd.

"You're not a war photographer, kid. You're not built for it." There was an opening, and everyone was surprised he was applying for it. Why would the German want to report on the English military?

"I could be." It was all he argued. Nobody bought it. Worse, was when the news traveled home to his parents. As if one child facing danger wasn't enough, let alone the one that nobody believed could handle it.

"There are different battles you can fight." His boss explained. He never got the job, and instead they offered him a little more danger on the job. Well, as dangerous as England was. It looked like a compromise, but Brodie took it for what it was.


What made you decide to go to America?
The so-called free world is falling apart. Someone has to tell the story.
Brodie was never good with announcements, so it felt fitting to mimic the way his father had introduced his now-mother. Dinner at the table. Eli had been back for some time now. It offered everyone a sense of security and ease. Really, it was the perfect time.

"I'm moving to America." Straightforward, as Brodie only knew how to be with such matters. His father laughed, only to quickly realize it wasn't a joke as he continued explaining. "To Stagfort, Oregon." With the reign of a new government threatening everything, he had to go. The meta hub of the United States was - if anywhere - the best place to be when ignorance and hatred ran through the veins of a country.

There was silence, he brought a wine glass to his lips for a moment, but didn't take a sip. "I leave in three weeks."

♦ THE PLAYER ♦

USERNAME: Sai
AGE GROUP: 27
EXPERIENCE: I lost track?
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? I will always find you

[★ MEL]

ACCEPTED! ►
► You know what to do!
BY EDWARD OF GS