Name: Joshua Sorrell
Hair: Golden blond 2' kept clean cut (May make it shaggy later on not sure)
Eyes: Cobalt Blue
Build: Toned; slim
Birthday: September, 24
Joshua has never been the most intelligent student, but he always finds a way to win, and this helps him survive without killing or seriously harming his most opponents. In losing every part of his old life Joshua has become distrusting of everyone he meets; including those who are trying to help he throws all forms of generosity back at them preferring to just be alone.
Organic Matter Decay: The Curse of the Ouroboro cult has wrapped itself around poor Joshua resulting in a curse he'll never escape. The highly powerful curse has created a magical barrier over the boy's skin that causes any organic matter that comes in contact with the boy to begin to decay rapidly. Joshua cannot turn off this ability and cannot make contact with another's skin without permanently damaging them. Brief contact may result in brittle bones and damaged muscles but prolonged contact can reduce any organic matter to dust. Joshua's powers do damage on the atomic level and infuse powerful dark magic into the destroyed organic matter they attack; no attempts to heal wounds resulting from his curse have been successful thus far. With advanced training Joshua may be able to shape the field and extend it. But first he'll have to come to terms with the fact he can't remove it.
Street Fighting: Having to fend for himself in this harsh world has taught Joshua a unique style of combat that focuses on take downs and chokes that place his life destroying limbs near the vitals of another. While he knows that a fight will surely result in permanent damage to his foe sometimes Joshua cannot (or will not) convince the opponent it's better to just walk away from the small boy.
Alphonse Marai: business man, war monger-er, cult leader, or sociopath. These words alone are not nearly enough to describe one of the few men who dream of world domination, and yet may actually have the means to do so, Growing up in the Cult of Ouorobos had caused Alphonse to have some very ambitious life goals, but he was nowhere near a place he would be able to achieve them at such an early stage in life. Becoming the Head priest was a relatively simple task;a few deaths, a few lies, and control was his, The next step in his plan was amassing a large stockpile of wealth to go along with his new found power.
He used the same methods to work his way to the top in the business field as well, and in taking control of a mercenary group he could now have the army he wanted as well. The cult's word echoed in him throughout his ventures though, and he wouldn't begin his plans until had the successfully obtained the one true Ouroboros mark. The power to truly hold one's life in your hands was what Alphonse described as true Godhood. He sought all the cult's ancient knowledge of the subject, and set himself to work. He set all pieces of the rituals in place, and sacrificed the blood of the three of his most loyal servants to form the intricate markings inside the ritual circle, and began speaking the ancient incantation. He felt the power burn inside him, but he wasn't strong enough. The power rushed out of him with only one last glimpse of the Ouroboros left behind.
Alphonse felt his own death in that ritual, and knew that despite being strong enough to live once he could not survive another attempt. The failure left his face grotesquely scarred, but despite failing his first attempt at what believed to be Godhood he planned for far too long to fail now. He had already successfully laid the foundation for his new world, and now he needed to ensure it's creation. The Ouroboros had obsessed him; he saw the power in the distance, and he knew what he would need to hold it. Everything was secondary to it, and he would live his life subservient to the one true dream in his dark heart. Forging a business empire was merely a front for the true empire he wished to build; an empire encompassing everything. As his influence grew so did his cult of followers who secretly listened to his preachings and helped him manipulate anyone he needed to.
Having a family was a simple manipulation of the truth that he wanted a legacy; when in reality he dreamed of weapon he could control. His picked a wife from a long line of mages; even if the magic in her blood had run dry the power within remained, and power was the one thing this host needed if they were to survive the ritual of undeath. True internal power was the one requirement, but this in and of itself was difficult to create, and he would not waste the time it would take.
The daughter Anna had been far to frail to survive the Ritual of Ouroboros, so he needed to wait even longer. Eventually she met her love; some reporter of no consequence by the name of Jack Sorrell. They were married within the year, and Alphonse played the doting father, but inside he was hoping for a grandchild with which he would salvage his dreams. The baby was born two long years later, and named Joshua after Jack's father, and after several year of waiting Alphonse would have his weapon; his legacy to the world.
He rarely saw the boy in the fifteens years of his life, but on the boy's sixteenth birthday he put his plans into action.After so many years the waiting was finally over. He sacrificed far too much over this lost time; this boy's strength would have to be enough. He invited his "family" over for what they assumed to be a birthday party for the young teen; they were unnerved when they discovered no other guests, but it wasn't until they noticed the blood on the ground that they tried to escape. Alphonse Marai would have his power even if it was contained within another host, so the families blood was spilled in order to begin the boy's rebirth. Knocking a teen unconscious was a simple matter while the man, and his followers prepared the ritual.
Joshua stirred at the center of a large circle covered in markings written in blood. He was only conscious enough to hear the people before him mumbling in some unknown language. The terror in his heart paralyzed him, but something in the back of his mind began to stir as well. This voice could not be heard, but it was there just beneath the surface. Joshua had no idea where he was, but he knew he was in danger of these mysterious weirdos. The one in the middle; clearly the leader among them; had stepped forward, and picked Joshua up from off the ground. It was only now that Joshua had recognized his generally absent grandfather; the faded scar just barely visible in the candle lit room. "Calm down Joshua; you were brought here, so you could be given the greatest power any man could ever hope to achieve in this world. The Ouroboros will give make you living death…an Ouroboros incarnate." The voice in his head grew into a faint whisper just barely audible; it promised secrets, and power. A terrified Joshua looked around the room, and his eyes locked on to corpses drained of blood; he couldn't bring himself to look, but deep in his heart he knew that they were his parents.
As the chanting grew louder, and a light swirl in the old man's hand as he began to slowly press into the center of Joshua's chest. At first Joshua was shell shocked at the sight of his parents to even notice the pain he felt encompassing his entire body, but the voice started to grow louder, and louder offering him anything. The mark of Ouroboros had been burned into Joshua chest, and the old man knew that the boy had succeeded where he failed. The Ouroboros was beginning to claim the boy heart, and soul. The voice became a scream in Joshua's head springing him back into consciousness, and for a brief moment the boy knew that the only way to save himself was turn this power back on it's source. With one overwhelming burst of power Joshua grabbed the arm that placed his mark, and sent all the energy he had in all directions. This turned all cult members to ash, and his grandfather fell before him with skin faded gray "I won't be your power" He collapsed in a fit of rage, but knew this would get him nothing; no matter what he couldn't go back to the perfect life he had before.
Alphonse breathed life once more in the chamber of his second death; all the candles since gone dark, but faint light remained from the door left open during the child's escape. He truly couldn't understand why he had been spared the Ouroboros wrath; it's power had destroyed all of his followers. He could barely move due to the pain that pulsed through his entire body, but he remembered this pain it was the same as all those years ago. After a time he moved once again, and he realized the truth as he eyes glanced upon the mark he wanted for so long. His entire life it was just out of his reach, and now it laid upon his very arm. His body had been transformed to living ash, as he breathed he knew there was no air; just as there as was no blood. The voice he wished to hear once more began to speak a clear message. He would become death by seeking out the other, and taking his power. As he spoke one meaningless line to his long departed grandson "Whether you like it or not; no matter where you hide; your true power resides in me,"
Joshua ran as far away as could, but nowhere seemed far enough. The voice had left him, but he could still fell a trace. He just kept going city after city; fake stories told, because no one would believe the truth. One day Joshua had the random luck of being recognized by one of his father's old reporter buddies. The man that found him instantly wanted to take him in after his families sudden disappearance, but upon catching up with boy his power's accidentally activated for a brief moment. It only did minor damage, but the man seemed to understand, and told Joshua about a school made for people just like him. This school sounded like a dream something that may not even exist, but Joshua knew that this school would be the one place he could find a new life. The next chapter of his life would finally begin at the Academy for Super-Powered Youth…