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Saimat Morzän

"I hate bunnies. They're evil, I tell ya', EVIL!"

0 · 243 views · located in Cindertown

a character in “My Lovely, Bloody Coven”, as played by R.T.M.X.

Description

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Full Name: Saimat Morzän (Pronounced Seh-mot MOR-zon)
Nicknames: Reserved by his most trusted of allies and closest of friends, they are allowed to call him "Sai", but to everybody else, he is simply known as Mr. M or the Wildcard.
Titles: The Hunter
Gender: Male
Role: Hybrid
Appearance: Tracing back to the very foundations of Cindertown and rumored to even before those times, Saimat is pretty damn old for his youthful appearance. That said, consequently, the Wildcard dresses ordinarily casual. A gray blazer and slacks, sharply tailored to rest pleasingly atop his 5'6" frame, open to reveal a white collared shirt, sans tie. Spiffy black shoes tap along the ground he walks upon, and he sports a rugged but appealing gunmetal silver watch clad over his left wrist.

Straight black hair has been slicked back long enough to assume that as its natural shape, crowning a sharply angled, wolfish visage. Thin lips and a hawkish nose give him a menacing yet tempting expression, only compounded upon by his devilish grin. His is a very enticing face; one that is menacingly repulsive and yet daringly inviting at the same time. It has attracted many... and spared very few.

His eyes are steel blue-grey, perhaps his greatest and most accurate betrayers. It has been said, "The eyes are the window to the soul," and that is certainly evident in Saimat's eyes. They are too edged, too piercing. To hold his gaze is to behold a very analytical and cold mind, one capable of revelry one moment, and indifferent business the next. They are doors into a mind that samples pleasure and sin, and will destroy all of it on a whim.

When he shifts, he takes on the image of a traditional werewolf, his arms and legs stretching out, muscle mass builds and shifts, his face taking on that of a wolf's. When in this form, he stands at a whopping 6'2", effectively gaining half a foot in height. His nails becoming razor-sharp claws, silver fur covers his body, but he moves with such grace and speed that whatever he's stalking knows that's too late if they see the fur.
Personality: Mr. Morzän is cunning and mentally dangerous. He takes quiet satisfaction in dissecting the minds of those he's dealing with, allowing him to be all the better in interacting with them--but also so that he can string them along however he pleases. He dwells in a world with intellects ranging at either extremity; from the incredibly sharp and devious to the broken and trodden. It makes for quite fun sport.
Species: Lycan
History: Ah, Cindertown. Mr. M remembers vividly the days when the town was founded. You see, not only is a lycan, he is an immortal. You don't believe me that he is an immortal? Go look at the founding pictures of the town. You see, that's him on the left, in the second row, third from the end. Oh, you didn't know he was a lycan either? Now you know. Well, about that... he wasn't one of the unfortunately inflicted, he was actually born into it. It's a bit of an advantage over the other lycans, since he isn't limited to just the nights that fall on full moons. He's old, he's ancient. He had time to master his transformation. This advantage has also helped him... hunt his prey. He's also an information broker, trading tadbits of information with whoever pays for the information. He knows alot of secrets, because it's his job to know them. He might even know your family secrets, if you have any that is...
Special Traits: Being biologically immortal has its perks. He will not grow old, he will only grow weak through damage and lack of exercise. He is, however, still affected by injury. Silver still hurts like a bitch, and he can "accidentally" infect non-lycans and convert them by mixing his blood with theirs.

Another trait of his, being lycan, he can take on a more bestial wolf-like form. However, unlike the other lycans, throughout the many years, he has become able to control the transformations at will, becoming more like a shifter than a true lycan. This allows him to be able to throw off any suspiscions of him being a lycan or not, when he walks around Cindertown some nights during a full moon. The drawback is he still becomes more bestial in personality during those nights. The more passive traits, and minor advantages, of being a lycan is that he is immune to disease and a higher regenerative power, though this is easily nullified through the use of silver, in addition to the obvious strength and speed boosts. He acts a bit more "feral" than humans and blood-starved vampires, but this has yet to betray his bestial heritage.
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Special Abilites: He's a lycan. 'Nuff said.

Unknown to most, and a secret held to only the closest of friends, he is an assassin, a hunter of lives, and an immortal on at that. He has been walking alongside the living for centuries, giving not a single clue about his existence.

Being an ancient through technicalities, and being around both the number of vampires and witches over his many years, he has gained some resistance their magical charms.
Your Story: Saimat is an information broker; an unarmored, exposed secret agent--spy, watchout, double-agent, and more. He frequents the criminal underworld and highworld. His clientele involves junkies, hitmen, Mafioso, hookers, and petty crooks in the streets, clubs, and shady alleyways; and likewise politicians, corporate heads, and the rich elite in their penthouses, offices, and country clubs. He is an ear and mouth for the Lycans, listening to the current that flows in these circles and, when beneficial to the pack, starting new ripples. But this is just his day job.

On his "off hours," he is keen to partaking of the revelries of his calling, sampling the sins of the flesh and other pleasures circulating in these dark environments for personal enjoyment, not just to fit in. That is not to say that even in these moments he is unguarded; for even then he is still immersed in the criminal culture and still aware of its happenings. In truth, he is always "on duty," but it might be said that he is merely combining his hobbies with his work.

However, just because he carries few weapons does not mean he is defenseless. He is more than adept in using knives and guns, however he finds the latter harder to conceal and carry, resorting to the former most of the time. One of his favorites is his ceramic composite blade, harder and sharper than most blades made of steel. Nevertheless, he still carries a traditionally made switchblade, primarily because bodyguard searches will always find that one first, and then presume he's defenseless, especially after a walk-through a metal detector comes up negative. Guns can be taken easily enough when necessary, but for the most part he prefers the intimacy of small bladed weapons. For Saimat, dancing, fighting, and sex are, when done properly, all the same art form. And there is something to be admired in the footwork and grace in melee fighting, the same with any intense dance, and of course with techniques in bed. He is also fond of hand-to-hand combat, exhibiting a style that might be described as half minimalist martial art, and half brutal street brawler.

Finally, there is a subtle side to the Wildcard, one that underlies him in his entirety. It is a fact few truly realize, and it is perhaps the deadliest thing about him. He is corruption. He is perversion; the taking of something good and pure and defiling it into something subtly and yet distinctly wrong. His goal is to undermine from the inside out, and twist things to his ends. He is the proverbial rot that ruins the tree, betraying not a single sign until it's too late. At first glance everything looks normal and in good order, yet on closer examination it becomes glaring that something terrible is amiss. That is truly what satisfies him, and it always guides his hand in some form or another. And it is this that truly makes him an epitome of the lycans' darker side.
Theme Song: I Stand Alone - Godsmack
Favourite Colour: Black
Likes: Information, Money, Power, Good manners, The hunt
Dislikes: Little brats getting their noses into things they're not supposed to be in, Silver bullets, Bunnies
Extra: Being the informative gentleman that he is, he has an uneasy alliance with the other groups, trying to keep the lycans out of this little blood feud between the witches and vampires, though he is known to visit each side once in a while.

He usually carries a Zirconia Ceramic composite blade, a little something that he doesn't have to worry about sharpening or being detected. He also carries an ordinary switchblade for reasons already discussed.

Money isn't a problem, seeing that his clients are wealthy and they pay alot for the information he has. However, he views himself as a "protector" of the town, and will only leave Cindertown when he's on business calls.

So begins...

Saimat Morzän's Story

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Character Portrait: Analise Rose Nox Character Portrait: Saimat Morzän
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Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of Mr. Morzän spinning and tapping the tip of his ceramic blade against the dark, hardened surface of his 18th century mahogany tablestand, overlooking the acres of trimmed, but slightly flooded, grass that made up the beautiful lawn of Morzän Mansion. His personal study room was the size of a living room within an average-sized house, filled with thousands of books and tomes, ranging from multitudes of subjects in different languages. Morzän leaned back into a plush swivel chair, and tossed his blade onto the stand.

The day was still young, and clouds had covered the small city with a fluffy blanket of rain, coming in without warning during the early morning. The mansion itself was located deep within the northern forests, a good thirty minutes of driving on the outskirts of Cindertown. Nobody fucked with the mansion, or the occupants, unless if it was strictly business regarding with the owner. It was built like a fortress, and is commonly regarded as one... and for good reason.

This is the home and headquarters of the lycans. There are rules set in place between the three councils, keeping somewhat an uneasy peace between the lycans and the other two. Vampires and witches are not to venture within the mansion's property, and the lycans stay out of their business. Lycans are to stay on the premises during all full moon risings, to stay away from the local populace as well as not accidentally attacking either a witch or vampire. These words were directly taken from Mr. Morzän himself, and his word is law to the lycans. To enforce these rules, Mr. Morzän has enlisted over a hundred armed guards, each trained in how to properly defend against all three "societies".

Behind him, the door to his studies opens, and a seemingly old butler reaching into his seventies stepped through. The man had a lanky appearance, yet it still held a proper posture dispite how old the man was.

"Sir, Miss Nox is here and wishes to speak with you. Should I send her in?" the butler asked in a wispy voice.

"Thank you Walter. You can send her in."

"Very well, sir."

After a couple seconds of muffled words, the butler had escorted the young lady in before exiting and closing the door behind him. Mr. Morzän had spun around in the chair, facing his mahogany desk and pointed a chair with an open palm.

"Please take a seat, don't be nervous, and make yourself at home. Walter should be coming back with some food and coffee. How are you adjusting to your new... family?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Analise Rose Nox Character Portrait: Saimat Morzän
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Analise Nox


Analise roamed the halls of the mansion quietly, her eyes scanning the walls and her bare feet making no noise as she walked across the smooth floor. She had never quite seen anything like this mansion, nor had she ever met anyone quite like the occupants. But it felt more like home then her home had ever been. She didn't feel the need to look over her shoulder as much as she used to.

When she saw the butler, out of force of habit she jumped back, away from him until she remember who he was. She gave him a gentle smile. "Um, sir? Would you know where I could find Mr. Morzän?" She asked politely in a little voice, and he walked her to his office and slipped inside. She glanced down at her clothes. Her hair fell in soft blonde ringlets that fell down to her waist, and she wore a white blazer with dark fitted jeans.

The butler escorted her in, and she gave him a soft smile and a quiet 'thank you'. She looked over at the dark haired man before her, seeming slightly intimadated. She sat down in the chair he gestured to, tucking her legs underneath her. When he spoke to her, she gave him a little smile. "Well nobody has struck me, which is all I really ask. It's very nice to have people to trust." She told him softly, her blue eyes bright and her expression gentley. She seemed to be careful not to upset him in any way. "So far, I like it here."