Character name: Jorma-Ensio Gram Age: 27 (June 9th, 1983) Profession: HR representative of Ad Meliora. Specifically, a headhunter.
Power, if applicable: n/a
Where do they live?: Standard agent apartment, shared with Kai Drustan.
Personality: Jorma can be a very pleasant, personable guy. He knows how to talk and relate to people, knows how to set his own issues aside in order to focus on someone else. Actually, he's gone through the greater part of his 27 years trying to not focus on himself, so he isn't so much good at putting others first, but he does get a gold star for effort. Following an extremely sheltered childhood, Jorma learned that most of the world didn't care to know people like him. From the day he was born, everything he could ever want was provided. Without lifting a finger, he would be above and beyond provided for for the rest of his life. He was so well off that even the act of sharing his good fortune with others would be met with disdain. In school, the other boys were only trying to be his friend so that he would buy them things or were too proud to continue to be his friend when he offered to get them an extra chocolate milk at lunchtime. It seemed he could never win. And even that, thinking he could never win, made others only hate him more. Poor little rich boy, so hard to be you. It's tricky to say whether he actively decided to fill the role that others cast for him or if it just started happening on accident.
By university, Jorma had turned himself into a grade-A asshole. He drank heavily, partied heavily, slept with girls who wanted him for nothing more than his money, strung those same girls along and dumped them with nothing. He was flippant and shallow and condescending. To some degree, Jorma still is all these things, but he noticed in his mid-late twenties that the opinions of the person he acted to be didn't match at all with how he really felt. He wanted to puke after only one drink and hated the company of others who were drunk. He didn't care much for parties, they were so sad and desperate. He didn't need to be with those girls- sometimes it was even a chore to get off with them. But he was trapped by the identity he'd crafted, and even as he wanted to change, he felt that he couldn't, that he shouldn't, that after so many lucky rolls being miserable with no one who could relate to him was all he deserved.
He's still stuck in the rich loser fratboy role, though there are some differences. He says and does all the same things. He flirts and drinks and scoffs, but his heart's not in it. He wants to change, he just doesn't know how. So, while he presents himself as a man without a care in the world, he's always hovering on the edge of giving up and leaving his money to the dolphins or whales or some endangered species of fern that can't roll its eyes at his charity. Probably not dolphins; he's heard they can be assholes, too.