__________________________________________________
   "Have the courage to disobey."
   

Name(s): Ross Mercer
Nickname(s): Just Ross.
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Birthday: 23/04/X761
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Class: Scout
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Rank: D Class
Guild: Fairy Tail
Guild Tattoo: Right breast - Blue
Face Claim: Yato - Noragami

II. APPEARANCE

Height: 5'3''
Weight: 132.7 lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Sapphire
General Appearance: Even though Ross is rather short, that doesn't mean his body isn't toned. He doesn't have muscles, but he is obviously athletically built. Ross's clothes change depending on what he wants to wear, but he usually wears a signature blue scarf around his neck that he obtained from a dear friend. Sometimes, a pin holds up his bangs to the top of his head. Also, there is usually a sheathe for a blade located upon the blackette's belt, pointed sideways.
Extra: His chest is riddled with numerous whip-induced scars, his back marked with an A with a circle in sword work, and his chin has one scar on the left side of it. His sapphire eyes glow brighter blue when he is greatly angered.

III. PERSONALITY

Personality: Where does on begin with Ross? He's a fun guy. Fun being subjective, of course. He's a good guy at heart, but he's been through enough crap that it hurt his development as a person. He still loves being socially adept, and prefers being around people than not, despite his demeanor. Ross is very nice when around other people. Well, the ones he can stand anyways. Throw a short joke his way, and he'll explode with anger, but its almost a rite of passage for his friendship.

Beneath the skin, Ross suffers from guilt. In his repressed mind, he still mentally suffers from his past. The loss of his friends to that one man. But that's only the tip of the iceberg, as what really hurts is that Ross let him do it. That he disobeyed too late. It haunts him like a ghost that will never leave him alone. He doesn't intend to hurt himself by it, but he often finds himself staying up at night due to his inaction, his guilt consuming him whole.

Of course, he knows better than to be depressed all the time, and hides it a lot of the time. Besides, he is happy to have a new family around him, and he's glad to show it. Though he may view them differently, as the perverted ones are...annoying for obvious reasons. That's not to say that he himself isn't one to some extent. He just covers it up well... he's a nineteen year old boy, at the peak of untapped hormonal levels. If he wasn't, there might be issues to be had.

In terms of humor, Ross is overly serious so a joke doesn't usually come from him. However, he does use humor through use of snark. Though the things that happen to him are sometimes humorous... and... people will probably laugh.

To opponents, Ross treats them like an equal, unless they are lawful evil... in which case, they are lower than dirt, and Ross will get flashbacks of Belial. He might go into a frenzy if such an aligned person appears before him. He will fight them into the dirt. But he will not kill them. He is far too gentle a soul to kill anyone.

In total, Ross is a nice guy, who loves company that doesn't joke about his shortness. He lives with what he has done and betters himself because of it. His repressed memories he does not want to deal with it, so it may make it an issue for him to grow. He is coming to terms with who he is. He wants to fix what he has done, without having to confront it.

Likes:

• All forms of magic; call him curious, but the loves seeing magic for himself. Even going as far as taking a hit just to witness first hand how magic works.
  
• -Stories; Such as Lionel's stories, he loves them, and even more to make his own.
  
• -Those who follow the law, but abuse it. (Lawful Evil) Ross may break rules, but he doesn't abuse systems.
  
• -Music; he may hate musicians, but he can definitely enjoy a good folk song.
  
• -Swords; to the point of haggling with merchants just to obtain a cool one. He favors fencing foils, even though he isn't amazingly proficient using any kind.
  

Dislikes:

• -Perverts; no explanation necessary.
  
• -Short jokes; self-explanatory, and he WILL break your legs.
  
• -Rules; Lionel Mercer "Have the strength to make your own decisions... but the courage to disobey." This mindset has followed Ross since. He doesn't like rules. He doesn't hate them all, but some need to be broken.
  
• -Musicians; anyone who prides themselves off being able to play an instrument clearly needn't be a mage.
  
• -Murder; he may like to fight, but he has no intention of ending life, no matter how much they may mess with his.
  

Motivations: Ross' motivations lie mostly with his love for the stars. He wants to learn about them. He wants to understand them. He wants to create magic in tandem with them. But over that, he wants to make Lionel proud of him. Probably somewhere during their four years together, he wanted to make him proud because Lionel became to him what he never had: a father figure. And so, from the heavens above, he wants him to look down on him and guide his spirit.

Fears:

• -Death. This is pretty self-explanatory, as Ross has been around it all his life. He has witnessed his friends dropping all around him like small potatoes. He doesn't want to die, and he knows that he wants to cling to life.
  
• -His repressed memories. He hates delving too far in the past before Lionel. To the point where he'll attempt to avoid direct lines of questioning. He cannot take it. If the memories flash before him, he doesn't know what he'll do.
  
• -Complete darkness. The feeling of isolation... he has experienced it before, but after being taught about the light... he may never be able to witness it ever again or go through it.
  

Positive Traits:

• -Athletic (+3): You have a knack for athletic endeavors.
  
• -Diehard (+2): You can remain conscious after attacks that would fell others.
  
• -Fortitude (+3): You are tougher than normal. You can take more hits than the regular Joe.
  

Negative Traits:

• -Depression (-3): Symptoms of this illness include changes in appetite, weight gain or loss, too much or too little sleep, persistent feeling of tiredness or sluggishness, and feelings of worthlessness or guilt, leading in severe cases to hallucinations, delusions, stupor, or thoughts of suicide.
  
• -Intolerance [Lawful Evil Peeps] (-1): You have an irrational dislike of a certain thing. It may be an animal, a class of person, a situation, or just about anything at all. Note that some dislikes may be too trivial or ridiculous to count--a dislike of Bavarian-crème-filled donuts or mechanical pencils, for example, has no real dramatic value and will not be allowed.
  
• -Cautious (-1): You are uneasy engaging in behavior that carries a chance of failure. You must spend twice as long performing any skill that requires an action. For example, deciphering a page of text would take 2 minutes for you instead of 1.
  
• -Aloof (-1): Your manner is cold and unapproachable, distancing you from friends and strangers alike. Your preternatural intelligence lends itself to viewing others as slow-witted and a waste of your precious time. Your charisma is lowered.
  
• -Merciful (-1): For a villain, you have a terrible weakness--you don't like to hurt people. Given the choice, you'd rather exile your deposed brother to another country than do him in. Whether this is because you want him to live knowing that you beat him, or whether you just have a small soft spot down in your heart somewhere, the result is the same: your enemies keep coming back again and again.
  
• -Curiosity (-1): You're a naturally curious person and you find mysteries of any sort irresistible. In most circumstances, alas, your curiosity overrides your common sense.
  This forces you to investigate something unusual, even if it looks like it might be dangerous.
  

IV. MAGIC

Magic: Heavenly Body Magic
Caster or Holder: Caster
Description: A magic allowing for use of properties of many astronomical objects for battle, preferably in offense. Properties relying primarily on astronomical objects like meteors, or the creation/manipulation of stars from the body. Heavenly Body Magic can be used to surround the caster, amplifying their speed. Or perhaps it could be used to cast light in form of power from the body in some way. It may even use gravity to provide punching power.  
Strengths: Being a caster spell that not only amplifies physical performance but can be used offensively, one could wonder how strong this spell is. Ross uses it in such a diverse manner, much as the magic is meant to be used.
Weaknesses: Ross doesn’t have too much of a grip on using this magic in reality, so to its uses leave him drained. He has yet to learn to control his power in a contained way and exerts way too much. Through training, this may be amended, but added upon that, is dark magic. As known, the stronger the light, the stronger the dark. In such a way, Ross has an apparent weakness to darkness, from such.

V. HISTORY

History: Ross was born as a slave. At first, he had never known his true parents. Confined to his shackles within a giant tower, one of which Ross does not know the name of. He would be at this prison for many years to come.

His repressed memories start somewhere around his fifth birthday, where he would meet a couple of friends whose names he has too far repressed. Living within this prison of dirt floors, hay beds, and rocky walls was a challenge. But with the help from friends, it was made all the better. In fact, it got to the point where Ross was happy. His self-esteem grew with his friends, and things were good for a time. One of them would teach him about the outside world, and about ‘magic’ Beyond his wildest dreams, he’d never thought of such things existing. He’d often dream of such things.

The years went by, and Ross continued to grow albeit with tortured whip wounds. About the lovely age of eleven, he managed to find a hole in the wall of his cell. A mouse had crawled through the space, and Ross, in his own amazement, watched the mouse crawl around a bit before entering the cell. At first, Ross was reluctant to touch it, but with time, the boy did. He’d stay up all night, and see the stars above through the smallest possible window to the outside he could find with the mouse. The first arrangement of stars he saw was…

The Big Dipper.

The following year, he would ask one of his older friends, Bryce about the stars and what they were. Ross would be taught about star systems, and the stars that consisted in the Big Dipper. Dubhe, Merak, Phecda, Megrez, Alioth, Mizar, and Benetnasch. He was told stories about these stars. About how one symbolized power, one symbolized beauty.
Ross found himself interested greatly in stars. Every night, he spent looking through the tiny window, looking for the Big Dipper. Like a ray of hope in the night.

At night, he spent time digging into the hole, but not too much to raise suspicion. Enough so the glimmer of hope raised. He’d crawl out of here too, like a mouse if he had to. Such childish innocence he still had would come to an end soon. For the following nights, new batches of criminals or scum were put into the tower prison. And each new inmate had a darker record than the last. Whether they were serial killer mages, or brought smaller, unknown ‘guilds’ to their needs, they all came together. Soon, the dynamics of the prison changed.

Someday soon after another three-hundred day cycle, Damien, one of Ross’ friends managed to cross one of the bigger guys, known only by Belial. And it was the first time Ross got to see how fragile life was. In one movement, Damien’s neck was broken by the obviously bigger man. Ross stood there for a moment, half in anger, and half in fear. With clinched teeth, the blackette felt true sadness. He collapsed to his knees. If he did anything, the slavemasters would torture him near death. It was the rules they were told as prisoners. This man… Bel didn’t follow the rules, but abused them to better fit his own way of doing things. He himself would abuse the rules and place blame on others. Like that, he understood the weight of all of this… the fragility of life…

… Ross didn’t know that at the time, the man that Bel pointed at was Ross himself. And like that, the blackette was taken away having taken blame for a crime he did not commit.

He would sit in solitary confinement for a whole year. Ross wouldn’t budge for anything but food on a plate. As he sat in his cell with the jacket that confined his wrists behind his back, he’d look for a window to no avail. Those nights had no stars… those nights had empty skies…

Around the age of his thirteenth ‘350th day mark’, a habit he’d learn from the wise Bryce, Ross took in a deep breath as he was released from confinement. It was morning from the looks of things. His hair had grown so long now it was down to his lower backside. His sapphire eyes looked empty. As he crawled out of the cell due to muscle atrophy, he saw him. Belial had another of his friends in his grip. It was a girl about of seventeen, Hilda if he remembered correctly. To a normal person, the look in Bel’s eyes would have easily told anyone what he was going to do to her. Ross watched in fear. Another of their friends had jumped into the fray of things… but his mangled body was nearby.

… Ross only felt fear.

Ross cowered back to his own cell, ducking his head in-between his legs, wishing he could have done something. And he’d live with the guilt. The starry sky was something he wasn’t allowed to view, for if he did he’d be subjected to the beauty of the stars. The screaming never stopped, even after the sounds of more neck-snapping had been made. Ross could never undo what he had done… all because he had followed the rules. The rules had only lost him everyone he knew in this prison that he considered friend…

It was his fault.

His… fault…

But sadness took hold again, as his only friend left, the mouse, crawled through the crevice again. The little one, now grown bigger, moved closer to the blackette, now crying for one of his first times ever. The mouse would be there to ease his pains. And he’d even take the little guy to lunch with him. The two would eat sparingly, as to not draw any unwanted attention to them. Attention was all they got.

Belial, seeing Ross, gave a smirk, before taking his remaining friend into his hands. Ross begged and pleaded. Belial only needed to grab it all with one hand, and squeezed… Ross watched again. He couldn’t… he shouldn’t… but every moment he waited, was another his friend didn’t have.

He did.

Grabbing a thing of sand in his right hand, Ross immediately threw it in the bigger man’s eyes. The older man dropped the mouse… it had been too late though… the poor thing was bleeding. Mice could make their bones compact enough to fit into small spaces, but it had been forced that way… now he looked… broken.

The blinded man struck at Ross. Due to muscle atrophy, the boy took the blow, flipping backwards into the sand. “You piece of ****! I’m going to enjoy this!” as Ross got to his feet, Bel charged… and Ross felt more pain than he ever did in the torture sessions… the blackette’s body flung and rolled into the ground.

Bel was taken away… he had already been on death row, but his ‘first’ offense would end him. Despite all the damage he caused… the injured boy in state of shock laid there with all the guilt in the world… of his failure to disobey… when he was escorted back to his cell, he laid in his bed for what felt like an eternity, not even touching food when it came… perhaps he’d succumb to his wounds if he waited long enough.

His repressed memories ended when he was broken out. The rock wall exploded, almost like a hand taking him out of the dark. The sky was starry before him, and as he got to his knees in pain, he looked out into the vast expanse… For the first time for the thirteen year old Ross… he embraced freedom, as he ran out of the cell and into the wild. His atrophy meant little to him. His fears were gone. The only thing that mattered was him running. Running faster and farther away from that horrible nightmare of towers, Ross would trip up. He was free. Free, at last. He could breathe. He was rewarded…

The nights would be filled with countless stars. Ross would be forced to survive. For five hours, he was forced to learn how to catch fish with his bare hands, another three to learn how to start a fire, though it only took him ten minutes to learn that that hay stack was the comfiest thing he’d ever lay on. He’d force his survival instincts out, and day by grueling day, he’d move around the plains. Ross lived like this for six or so months.

Somewhere around his fourteenth ‘350th day mark’, Ross would enter Fiore. He limped in on a stick he had found. Having gained some of his muscles back, he moved around town with scruff growing on his face. As he entered the slums in his prison rags, the blackette saw many people like him… he fell into slumber on a strange haystack, so comfy that it was a bed.

When he’d awake, Ross would meet the old man. With a blue scarf around his neck, sitting upon a slab of stone in a position of sitting cross-legged, with his hands pointed upwards, rested upon his knees. With one eye, the old man gave the blackette a smile. Ross, tempted to see what he was doing, he asked. “What… are you doing?”

“Meditating, my boy-” the elder’s voice sounded wise, almost fitting for his age. His clothes were much better looking than Ross’ clothes. “-a great way to obtain peace of mind. You seem to be lacking of that right now. Am I correct?” As he said it, Ross for the first time felt irritation… but after ten minutes, he sat down and attempted to mimic the man.

The more he did, the further away the memories got. The more in control of himself he felt. That’s when the old man, Lionel Mercer, became the second closest thing to a parent he would ever have. Not only was he invited to live over at the geezer’s house, which was rather large, but he got a haircut, a shave of his face, and a much needed bath. He began to be inserted into normal life. And he was happy for a time.

Noticing that in his house, the old man had books about tons of magic long since forgotten, Ross asked to be taught how to be a wizard. In particular, one magic caught his eye. The magic of stars, Heavenly Body Magic, and as he read the book (even if Lionel never intended him to), he reconnected with the past a little. And so, through numerous times of asking, Lionel finally began to teach him the forbidden magic out of seeing something in him that reminded him of his son.

Lionel never talked about his son… but in his stead, he’d call the blackette the name his son had. “Ross.”

It took three years for Ross to be able to learn Heavenly Body Magic. One year to train his body to be able to use it, which required enormous amounts of workouts. Lionel was no pushover either, as he forced the boy to be able to fight if he wanted to learn the magic. Another year had Ross learn the basics of magic, to understand it in both body and mind, along with proper etiquette and common knowledge. One more year and Ross learned the basics of how to call out his magic. He understood how to bring out the power. On the last day… he pulled out the magic in one of his spars with Lionel through a wave of light. The old man brushed it off like nothing, but a smile came to his face. He said the words Ross wanted to hear the most. “Well done, son.”

Lionel had nothing left to teach the blackette, for in order to truly make the magic his own; he’d need to teach himself how to use it to its fullest extent. Ross nodded, and gave a smile to the old man. The two felt connected more than ever now… something Ross wanted more than anything.

An eighteen year old Ross would be there by Lionel’s deathbed. Through Ross’ tears, the old man would tell him. “You… Ross… you are like… the son I… lost. Do not… be sad… death… brings life anew… do not be afraid… I cherish every day… that I have known you…” he’d say… tapping his head once, the older man smiled, before giving one final lesson. "Have... the strength to make your own decisions... but the courage... to disobey."

Ross cried for a long time after Lionel was gone.

When he went through the man’s things to try and send him off, he noticed a symbol on a book. Looking like a fairy, with glorification on the tail. Ross immediately went out to find such symbol, but he didn’t have to ask too much before being pointed in the direction of ‘Fairy Tail’. A magic guild. From the stories Lionel heard, finally it made sense how he could go through such adventures. He was a mage!

Ross decided to join it, in hopes that he may continue his growth. Grabbing a blue scarf that the older man wore, he flung it around his neck, as he hurried off. When he was asked his name, the blackette hit his chest with his clinched fist. “My name… is Ross Mercer.”

And that is the story of nineteen year old Ross Mercer.