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Morgan Walker

"There is nothing wrong with wanting to live your life. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

0 · 110 views · located in Delilah's Gourmet

a character in “Blood and Pastries”, originally authored by CNAGamer, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

❝ Morgan Walker ❞


❝ I do believe you wish to ask me some questions, no? Just be warned, I'm not particularly inclined to answer them. ❞



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❝ The Basic Facts ❞



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| Nickname | "I don't have one."
Mo-mo | Unless you're a part of his Coven, I don't suggest calling him that. You might just find yourself with a pair of holes in your neck.

| Gender | "What, you want more proof?"
Male

| Age | "Ah, that's a tricky one...which would you believe?"
21 in physical appearance. In reality, Morgan is 155 years old. He was turned in 1857.

| Sexuality | "I'm not picky, I'll take what I can get."
Bisexual

| Race | "I got fangs! What, no! I'm not some mangy mutt. I highly doubt werewolves even exist."
Vampire

| Face Claim | "Me, myself, and I."
Orihara Izaya

| Role | "I bring home the bacon, litterally. Except it isn't bacon, which is good. I hate bacon."
Vampire 3 | Hunter



❝ I'm sorry, did you ask me something? Oh, basics? Just what do you expect to be basic about me, honestly? ❞



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❝ What I See In The Mirror ❞



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| Eye Color | "Ha, what a question. I suppose you want to know why, too, right?"
Red

| Hair Color | "What, never seen a guy with black hair before? Considering it's natural, I highly doubt it."
Black

| Height | "Yes, we all get it, I'm tall. Now shut up."
6'0"

| Weight | "What the hell does this have to do with anything?"
134 lbs

| Skin Tone | "Questions, questions, questions, nag, nag, nag. God, you're like Virgil."
Pale

| Body Markings | "Um...do freckles count? Oh wait, I haven't got any of those..."
Morgan has a plethora of scars running all over his body. Other than that, he is mark free.

| Physical Description | "I'm buff!"..."Quit smirking at me, Virgil!"
Morgan is tall and thin, but all wiry and lithe with corded muscle. Morgan tends to wear simple, dark clothing. Jeans, a black t-shirt, a black jacket, and combat boots. His hair is usually mussed, like he simply woke up out of bed and didn't bother to brush his hair. His face tends to hold a bored expression.



❝ Oh, what I look like? Why do you have to ask? Can't you see, or do your eyes not work? Also, I see nothing in a mirror. I'm a vampire, remember? ❞



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❝ Behind The Façade ❞



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| Habits | "Wait, where's my lighter? Crap, don't tell me I lost another one! Where's the closest store?"
[*]Smoking | Healthy or not, Morgan is an avid smoker. I suppose you could call him addicted, but really...it's a bit hard to tell. An odd thing about him, he's constantly losing all his lighters.

[*]Being Rude | Much like the leader of his Coven, Morgan tends to come off as brash and rude. Truly, it's more that he's bored. Truth be told, Morgan is bored with his life as a vampire, and as such, tends to ignore everything and everyone around him to the extent where he will get lost in his own little world. Because he ignores them, when called upon to remember something or actually pay attention, he'll complain to no end about it.

[*]Reading | One thing that Morgan can do without complaining about it would be reading. He'll bury himself in a book for hours on end without moving, save to turn a page.

[*]Complaining | As said in the habit[s] above, Morgan tends to complain. About everything. From walking to hunting, everything is a bother to him. And he'll make it known to those around him.


| Likes | "Huh...? Uh....sure...now where did I put my book?"
[*]It is hard to say whether Morgan actually likes anything at all, seeing as he views everything with a bored look on his face. If hard pressed, he'd probably tell you that he likes smoking and reading.

| Dislikes | "Get that mutt away from me. He's probably filthy and flea infested."
[*]Again, due to his lack of enthusiasm, you'll be hard pressed to get anything out of him as a 'dislike'. Perhaps the closest to come to this would be sunlight, vampirism, canines, and questions.

| Fears | "I'm not afraid of anything!"...."Damnit, Virgil! Come here so I can punch you in the face!"
While Morgan would tell you he fears nothing when asked, in truth, there are a small number of things that might elicit a reaction akin to fear from him, thus being,
[*]Fire | Morgan was turned with his younger sister at the same time, and after they were turned, they were left on their own. Being new Vampires, and not knowing what to do or where to go, they made the mistake of wandering too close to a village. Morgan managed to escape, but his sister was burned at the stake in the town's center. Morgan watched helplessly.

[*]Holy Items | Morgan's parents were avid Christians, and when he and his sister tried to go home after being turned, their parents threw powdered silver and holy water at them, burning them. As such, Morgan fears what might kill him, even as he constantly complains about being what he is.

[*]Ephraim | While he won't ever say it out loud, his leader scares the shit out of Morgan. Since he also trusts Ephraim with his life, yet respects him, it causes some mixed feelings towards his leader.






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| Strengths | "Uh....why do you ask? Isn't it obvious?"
[*]Vampirism | With increased strength and speed, heightened senses, and an acute taste for hunting, Morgan is a lithe machine made for killing. Arguably the best in the Coven [apart from Ephraim, of course] Morgan knows how to kill quickly, quietly, and effectively. He has mastered the art of hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and covering his tracks.

[*]Smooth Talker | Despite his constant air of being bored and zoning, if pressed, Morgan can be quite the charmer, able to talk his way out of many, if not all, situations. This however, only works on humans and vampires apart from his Coven. Those of his Coven have been around him too long, and therefore know his tricks.

[*]Analytic Thinker | Another side effect, if you could call it that, of being lazy, is that Morgan is very good at thinking up ways and moves in order to get out of a situation he does not wish to complete. It makes him very good in games like Chess and Shogi, as well as an asset on the battlefield.

[*]Shape-Shifting | Morgan also has the ability to change his form. He can become another person, or into an animal, but the object he turns into must be something living, nothing inanimate. He also must have seen the person or animal he is turning into beforehand.


| Weaknesses | "Pff. Waste of time."
[*]Vampirism | While it has its benefits, it also has its downsides as well, weaknesses to sunlight, holy items, and silver being the most severe. Also, while this may not actually be a part of the vampirism, Morgan either cannot, or simply refuses, to enter even the grounds of any type of church, regardless of its religious affiliation.

[*]Women | Morgan has a heavy weakness not to women in general, but to women around 15 years of age, with long brown hair and blue eyes. They remind him too strongly of his younger sister.

[*]Laziness | Despite its ability to make him think in order to get out of situations, Morgan tends to put everything off to the extent to where his Coven members will get rather annoyed with him.

[*]Zoning | Morgan is...rather easily distracted, and has even been known to zone out completely, even if he's in the middle of a fight.


| Personality | "I'm like a Rubix Cube. Every time you turn me, you get something different, but you can never figure it all out. Virgil said that about me once. Probably the only thing he's ever said that didn't piss me off or freak me out."
While most never see it, Morgan is a rather complex ball of emotions. Really, the only ones who know this are the others in his Coven. Morgan's natural state is boredom. He will go around, day-to-day, with a look of sheer and utter boredom on his face, as if nothing and no one is actually worth his time. In truth, this is actually how he feels. He hates having to exude effort, and will avoid it at all costs [with some exceptions]. The only thing he ever seems to care anything at all about is reading. He loves a good book and will instantly bury himself within its contents should he be presented with one.

An exception to his constant state of boredom is loyalty. While offhand it would seem rather unlikely for one such as him, Morgan is loyal to the other members of his Coven to a fault. Without hesitation, should the need arise, Morgan would put his life on the line to save them. Morgan's state of self-sacrifice is unreserved and quite distinctive. He won't do it for just anyone. Hand-in-hand with the self-sacrifice comes anger. Morgan can be a very angry person when provoked. Namely, if one of his Coven is in danger, or he is provoked enough, Morgan can very well snap, something you don't want to be on the receiving end of.

A Morgan who has snapped is almost like an alter-ego of sorts. Only the same in looks, where a normal Morgan would be complaining every second, a snapped Morgan is quiet, reserved, calm, even, if you could think of it that way. A normal Morgan would only go into and finish a fight half-heartedly and with as little amount of effort possible, also preferring to let his opponent live, whereas a snapped Morgan would bound head-long into a fray, and fight tooth-and-nail to end things, and utterly destroy his opponent. Truly bloodthirsty when he has snapped, Morgan is a friend to no one in this state, and when pushed far enough, has even been known to attack his fellow Coven members.

On the reverse side, every summer, for about four days, Morgan will become very, very quiet, stop complaining about anything and everything, and simply retreat within himself, become almost completely anti-social. He does this in remembrance of his sister, burned to death just a month after being turned all those years ago.

Yet another side is one only ever seen by the rest of the Coven. This is the Morgan that is truly happy, and he can be laid-back, joking even, and quite kind. This, however, is a rare sight to be seen, and is coming forth less and less with each passing year.




❝ My personality? Just what is relevant about that? Oh, well, I suppose... ❞


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❝ My Past and My Present ❞



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| Interest | "I'm sorry...what? Didn't you already ask me this? Wait, you mean a girl? What girl? Is she A+?"
TBA

| Family | "I......don't want to talk about that. Please don't ask."
[*]Terra Walker | Younger sister | Deceased
While she was turned with him by the same vampire in the spring of 1857, she was burned at the stake by villagers not a month later.

[*]Naomi Walker | Mother | Deceased
Naomi was a kind woman who died before her time. There were complications with her birth of Terra, and died as a result.

[*]Thomas Walker | Father | Deceased
While originally a kind man, Thomas went slightly mad with the death of his wife, blaming the midwife who had been there to help her, claiming that the African woman had cursed his wife. He became hard and cruel to his slaves, and died at the hands of a curse, cast by one of his slaves.


| History | "There's not much to tell. The history of a vampire is almost always a dull one."
Unnaturally long, Morgan's life has not been an easy one. He was born in a little town in the middle of Georgia, on the plantation his father owned, along with twenty slaves. His sister, Terra, came along when he was six, and his mother died giving birth to her. Morgan and Terra were raised by their nursemaid, Ariwa, a black slave woman who had worked for their father from birth. However, Morgan's father, Thomas, was very hard on his slaves, literally working them to their death beds. Ariwa's father was one of those slaves whom were worked to death, despite all her pleading to let the poor old man be at peace in his old age. In a fit of rage, Ariwa used the ancient dark magic of her people to lay a curse on Thomas, and the man slowly went insane by way of visions of his dead wife returning, and ended his life by burning down the plantation house with himself inside.

Ariwa however loved his children, Morgan and Terra, who were 17 and 11 at the time, and took them with her as the three of them traveled through the wilds of American, keeping to themselves and moving from place to place. Due to her skin color, Ariwa was normally run off, and the children always went with her. If they stayed anywhere, the people always seemed odd, to the children, as if they were all dreaming standing up. They didn't know what Ariwa was. Not until Terra got sick with what Ariwa said was the Scarlet Fever. She thrashed about for days, with Morgan fearful for her life, when Ariwa finally came to him and asked if he wanted Terra to live. Morgan said yes without hesitation, and three days later, Terra was up, healthy, and...different.

Unbeknownst to Morgan, Terra had been changed by Ariwa into a vampire, and that night, Ariwa came to Morgan while he was sleeping. She bit him, and changed him as well, with the words, "I'll always be with you now." When Morgan finally awoke two days later, Ariwa was gone. Terra and Morgan never saw her again, and it was soon after that Terra was burned at the stake. For years after that, Morgan wandered alone, hunting, killing, and simply surviving. In the year of 1937, he came face to face for the first time with another vampire. It was his first meeting with Ephraim Raphael Solomon, and also his last, for Morgan never left his side. He joined his Coven, and from then on, stayed with them.



❝ You, I am afraid, are not a part of my past. However, you are very much a part of my future. ❞


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So begins...

Morgan Walker's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daniel Chase Parker Character Portrait: Abigail Snow Character Portrait: Ephraim Solomon Character Portrait: Arya Character Portrait: Morgan Walker
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Arya
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❝ So annoying, this Coven....sometimes I wonder how I wound up here. ❞




"And for you ma'am, what would you like this evening?"


Arya had barely paid any attention to her surroundings or to Ephraim as he spoke. Her mind had gathered and comprehended it, and she would make the right response, but her conscious thought was elsewhere. She found herself wondering yet again about Lilith, and where she was, what she was doing....why she was late.

Until of course words interrupted those thoughts. Very human, and very male words. In a flash, Arya, forgetting where she was, what she was doing, and who she was supposed to be, turned a sharp yellow glare on the man who had spoken to her. Indeed, there was obvious murderous intent in her eerie yellow eyes as she stared the man down. But it was all gone within the space of a second, if that. The man would probably never take notice, believing he had wrongly interpreted her. Ephraim, on the other hand....

But then Arya was not known for her jolly temper and gracious moods. Recomposing herself, she gave the waiter a smile and simply said, "Tea, please. White Ivory, if you have it. If not, whatever is your best." Her voice was silky, smooth like chocolate. How she hated acting. What a part of her wouldn't give to simply sink her fangs into every one of these pathetic insects' necks, and make Ephraim watch. And then she'd kill him, too.

Again her attention was caught by something other than her thoughts. This time, it was laughter. Some of the human patrons to the cafe were laughing at a man outside, who was getting back up on his feet. "What an idiot, he just ran into a pole!" Arya was about to completely ignore it, when someone moved and she saw who it was they were laughing at. She couldn't help but grin. "Oh look, it would seem Morgan has found his way here as well...though he seems to have had almost as much trouble as our little Abigail did with getting into the building." However, Morgan did not enter the building, but instead simply walked past it, with barely an upward glance, book in hand, bored expression on her face. That made Arya frown. It would have put her in a somewhat better mood if he had come in. At least then she would have someone to poke and prod. She sighed, putting her chin in her hand, watching Ephraim fly through a crossword puzzle. How boring.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ephraim Solomon Character Portrait: Arya Character Portrait: Morgan Walker
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Morgan
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❝ I totally...did not...just do that. Nope. Not at all. Wasn't me. ❞




It wasn't smart. He knew it. But that tiny little voice in the back of his head was ignored by the words on the page floating off of the paper and into his mind via his eyes. As per usual with Morgan and his books, his nose was buried in it, and he was paying absolutely no attention to where he was walking. The only reason he was walking at all was because he had finally moved to stretch and he felt his spine snap back into place in five different places and the muscles in his lower back had all but frozen in the effort to move after being immobile for so long. He had glanced at the clock, and then the calender next to it, and realized he hadn't moved in 57 hours.

So, he had continued his book, but was now walking around the small town of River Lake in order to keep his body mobile. He had also unconsciously been following a rather enticing scent. It smelled rather tasty, and offhand Morgan knew it was human, but was still too engrossed in his book to realize it. He had ran four people over without stopping and barely registering their swears and curses at him, and had subconsciously turned around to avoid walking into a small church.

And then, finally, not hearing the two young women who were calling out to him, he found himself flat on his back. He had assumed that they wanted to talk to him in hopes of getting a date or possibly a one night stand. In truth, they had been trying to prevent him from walking headlong into a pole.

He felt it first, something hard, cold, and metal connecting with his nose, chin, and forehead, and then his chest and groin area caught up with the rest of his body. For a split second, all he could feel was the pole. He was dimly aware of his book slipping from his now outstretched hand to hit the pavement below, and the giggling and snickers of the men and women both around him and in the shop behind him. And then he felt the pavement connect with his back and head as he fell backwards, his vision swimming as he found himself staring up at the pink, blue, and purple neon of a sign, which read in bright letters, "Delilah's Cafe". He slowly turned his head to the side. So that's where that delicious scent it coming from...

His thoughts were interrupted by the humans' laughter. "What an idiot, he just ran into a pole!" He could feel the anger deep within him that he tried so hard to keep smothered for years trying to break free. Filthy, pathetic humans....worthless trash...do you know who you're mocking? Do you know?! I could tear out your throats and drink away your life in seconds, I hold your lives in the very palms of my hands, do you know that?! DO YOU KNOW?!

He stood up, his eyes almost flashing red, until he noticed two things: He was surrounded by humans, and Ephraim was right there. His Coven Leader hadn't moved from the paper he was looking at. Most people would have thought he hadn't even noticed the commotion around him. But Morgan knew. He knew that Ephraim was aware of everything, perhaps even his anger.

And he felt his rage smolder down to embers. The flashes of unbidden memories came flooding back, and for a second Morgan couldn't move purely out of fear. And then he realized Ephraim was not alone. Arya was sitting at the table with him, her yellow eyes laughing at Morgan through the plexi-glass window. Morgan did nothing more than pick up his book and resume his walking, burying his nose within the pages once more, blocking out the rest of the world, closing off what had just happened, putting the memory away for another time. It was all he could do, lest his rage gain a hold over him again. The two females that had tried to call out to him before called out to him again, only to be completely discouraged by his blatant disregard for them as he walked away, reading.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Daniel Chase Parker Character Portrait: Cassiel Fenix Character Portrait: Virgil Solomon Character Portrait: Lydia Hennessy Character Portrait: Ephraim Solomon Character Portrait: Arya Character Portrait: Morgan Walker
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#, as written by Ion
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On some days, he was certain that this whole coven thing was a joke and he was just babysitting.

It was like they couldn’t help but be dysfunctional. On most occasions, he didn’t even mind it that much. In public and around humans, their little… quirks became incredibly annoying at times. The waiter was on the receiving end of one of Arya’s patented yellow glares, though thankfully she remembered to control herself in quite short order. His lips compressed into a slightly-thinner line, but otherwise, he gave no indication of his feelings on the matter. He could have been reacting to what he was reading for all anyone could tell. Short-sighted, that was what it was. They often forgot how to look beyond this moment, beyond their visceral satisfaction and desire. They forgot that while they could level towns without effort, the same could not be said of armies. They forgot that, ultimately, it was hiding in plain sight that would make their lives the easiest, free them the most to pursue those pleasures which they took to be their right.

He did not disagree, but he knew enough to understand that most would. And as romantic as the notion of they against the world might have seemed, the reality would be far different. Born, raised, and educated to statecraft and the management of nations, Ephraim knew this with cold certainty. If they thought him wrong and resented him for it, he did not care, as long as they still obeyed the rules.

Lydia slid into the booth beside him, and Ephraim tensed, remaining perfectly still as her lips brushed his cheek, then shooting her a sideways glare that could peel paint. Yes, because outrageous behavior and making it clear that all of the bizarre newcomers were associated was completely rational. At least she was removing herself from the premises, it seemed.

He was considering doing the same, coffee or no coffee, when the laughter of the patrons nearest the window drew his attention. He didn’t move, but he could smell Morgan, and if Ephraim were the type of man that sighed, he would have done so then. He might have gone a bit… overboard on the occasion he’d reprimanded the younger vampire for killing a human, because it seemed that he was scarcely able to speak to him or be in the same room without the obvious smell of fear lingering in the air between them.

Rationally, Morgan did not enter the building, and Ephraim silently thanked him for it. They needed less of this chaos, not more.

Rather than let anything that happened at all affect him, Ephraim simply stowed his pen, turning the next page of the newspaper and continuing to read. If he were, in fact, a babysitter, he’d probably count as a fairly negligent one, at least until the time came to bring the children back in line.


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Blood. The scent was incredibly potent, even considering the rather miniscule nature of the amount. Virgil had the immediate urge to lick it off, but of course he restrained himself. It wasn’t terribly difficult; he’d had many years to practice and he’d just fed besides. Her somewhat rough language brought a close-lipped half-smile to his face. It was a bit incongruous coming from someone whose aesthetic was the very picture of demure innocence, but if there was one thing he could appreciate about humans, it was that they could sometimes still manage to do the unexpected.

Her hand slipped into his proffered one, and he graciously lifted her to her feet. He was contemplating the wisdom of brushing his lips over her knuckles in an outdated chivalric gesture that some people still appreciated, but decided against it. There was such a thing as laying the charm on too thick, and he had no desire to be nauseating, after all.

Instead, he released her hand gently, aware of her scrutiny but unconcerned by it. He knew what she’d find. Members of his species were supernaturally beautiful, and that was just a fact. Also a fact was that he’d been rather nice to look at before his changing, at least if the typical course of social events at his parents’ home was anything to go by (and it was; false modesty had never appealed to him).

He could sense a burgeoning feeling of awkwardness and considered simply banishing it with his mind, lulling her into a false sense of security, but he decided against it. It might be fun to see what kind of rapport he could establish with no use of his abilities whatsoever; it was occasionally entertaining for him to do so. Besides, he was curious as to what was so special about this little dear that made her smell like that.

“Oh, please, think nothing of it. The whole thing was my fault anyway.” He allowed a bit of shame to color that statement, then looked about himself as though noticing their surroundings for the first time. “Forgive me for saying so, but… isn’t it a bit late for a young lady to be walking around by herself? I’d feel much better if you allowed me to escort you to your destination, Miss…?” he offered kindly, flashing a smile and folding his hands behind his back. His very demeanor was about as nonthreatening as it was possible for a man of his height and build to be, and he stood with his head tilted innocently to one side, patiently awaiting an answer.

Privately, he thought she might even convince him to carry something, if the price was more information about her. Information was Virgil’s stock and trade, after all, and as a recent arrival to this town, he was currently rather bereft.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cassiel Fenix Character Portrait: Nickolas Mackrish Character Portrait: Abigail Snow Character Portrait: Ephraim Solomon Character Portrait: Arya Character Portrait: Morgan Walker
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#, as written by ceh12
Nickolas kept thinking of the embarrassment and shame he felt having someone else do the list. He was content until he saw a girl with red hair step in front of him, it was Cassie. "O-Of course I can." he said while she was leaving then let out a sigh as he made his way to the counter. He looked around and made sure nothing was amis in the bakery.

He watched the strange group of people in the cafe wondering why the males would be in a place like this. He loved it but than again most people thought he was weird, and he was considering he hated loud noises and was as shy as he was with his build. He guessed it had to do with the beautiful women they were with. He sighed wondering how far he would go for love as he checked the display case to make
sure there weren't any missing spots.

He then looked up seeing a girl by the counter. She was quite pretty but he sensed a strange presense about the girl as he looked at her eyes. "Y-yes ma'am may I help you?" He asked trying ton conjure up enough courage to at least look brave.
(Sorry I'm currently writing on my phone so excuse the short post/grammar)

(P.S sorry if I missed someone in the tags)