Editing Robert Grimm (section)

==History==
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===General History===
Robert Grimm has always had a bit of a temper. He's kept his cool. When he has to let it out he goes to the gym, or on a long run, away from people. His self control has allowed him to live out his life without any major problems, so far. He finished high school, tried out the college scene for a while, and found out he could make more money on poker than he'd be able to with most degrees.

He's been a loner most of his life. He's got friends, a very few - he's had a few girlfriends, though never for more than about 6 months at a time. Vegas was a good move for him, he thought. He makes his money preying on weaker players, his young face disarming many of the veterans of the game. He's got an easy smile and an amiable demeanor. He chit chats at the table, hoping to goad other players into displaying their tell, learning when they bluff. He knows most of the dealers in town casually. On the nights when he's not playing he checks out Vegas's overcharged night life, living fast and furious.

Furious ended up being the key word, ultimately.

===Exaltation===
Rob was just sitting at the bar, minding his business, drinking a beer and being exhausted after spending the previous hour dancing madly. A drunken biker type spun him around on his bar stool and decked him - solid - right in the face. Rob careened backwards off his barstool, slamming ungracefully into the woman who had been sitting beside him and rebounding off her and onto the floor. He clambered to his feet and hotly demanded, in short "What the hell, man?" It was not, he thought, an unreasonable question. He temper was spiking, but he was really -really- trying to keep it under control. 

"You was dancin' wit mah girl!" the man insisted. He didn't really look the type to get girls, Rob thought. He was wider than was normal and not very tall, which emphasized that. He smelt of beer and weed and tobacco and, Rob thought, shit. His face was several days worth of scraggly blond hair. He was obviously balding, but attempting to cover it up with a bandanna - red and white. Behind him was the ugliest excuse for a woman Rob had ever seen. He vaguely recalled recoiling from her involuntarily on the dance floor at one point - not something that would commonly be mistaken for dancing.

He'd just made some money the previous night, so he was willing to try to slide out of the situation, "You've got it wrong, pal. Some other guy, I've got one of those faces, you know? Let me buy you a drink and we'll put this," he had been standing and stopped himself from saying 'ugly incident', "misunderstanding behind us."

"Howz'bout I take that outta yer hide instead?" the squat man suggested. Rob thought he saw the suggestion of fangs behind the man's too-large lips and tobacco stained facial hair.

Instead, Rob gave his most wolfish grin, his temper was reaching a breaking point and he was ready to be rid of the man rather than try to talk things out, "You're welcome to try."

The man responded by letting his fangs show and sprouting 3 inch claws on every finger. He displayed a self-satisfied smile, assuring himself that the fight as already won. He was a predator, a creature of the night, and no fresh kid was going to beat him in a fight.

At least not until that fresh kid erupted with power. Cool even light billowed out from Rob as he took his Second Breath. A silver disk burned on his forehead and strength, raw power, coursed through every fiber of his being.

Rob saw things a little differently. In his memory he remembers seeing the ugly man grow his claws and fangs - and then freeze. A silvery woman, achingly beautiful, walked through the crowd, passing through those that were in her path rather than moving around them. She was clad in wispy, reviling white robes and sashes and moved with an unfathomable grace. Rob was unable to move, still in the low crouch he had assumed as he was standing up. He could only follow her with his eyes as she moved in front of him and smiled - dazzling - then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. That was when the burning power entered him. This was his vision of the Silver Lady. That was the moment he was Exalted above normal men by his new goddess.

The man recoiled from Rob's shining aura for a moment, having been caught completely off guard. "Wha'tha hell are you!?" demanded the creature.

Rob got to his feet as his iris altered into their new color - a yellow ring around his pupils. He thought for the moment before responding. "Reborn," he replied as flashes of memory from time out of mind flickered through his consciousness.

Suffice it to say, his opponent did not survive the night. Lots of conflicting stories circulate around the city now regarding what exactly happened. Some suggest that he did actually transform into a giant man-wolf hybrid and savagely destroy his opponent. Others state that his aura blinded everyone too much to be able to tell what was going on, but that his opponent seemed to burn to ash. Still others contest that it was simply a fist fight, or that they took it outside before actually fighting at all. In any case, Rob has tried to encourage as many different rumors as possible, and in most cases, to spread the idea that it was someone else.

Rob is trying to go about life as usual as much as he can. He has terrible, glorious dreams now regarding a time and place that is long gone from the world. He wears sunglasses virtually all the time now to hide his Tell, which he doesn't quite realize that almost no one can actually notice. He tries to, when he can grab the free time, experiment with his new abilities. He is, he knows, at the very least, better, faster, and stronger than he has ever been, and that virtually anyone in recorded history has ever been.

But they're out there, he knows. That first night taught him. There are other creatures that lurk in the shadows, much more terrible than himself. Some of them probably want them dead. Little does he know that some might even herald him as some kind of modern day messiah - literally blessed by Luna herself with fantastic prowess and power.