Post by hound2 on Sept 2, 2012 5:09:11 GMT
a year from now we'll all be gone...
MORGAN SKY JONES
morgan. 24. male. gay. immortal. neutral. hound.
MORGAN SKY JONES
morgan. 24. male. gay. immortal. neutral. hound.
Morgan Sky Jones. He�s 23 and has been since January 27 of this year. They would say he�s the strong and silent type, but he wouldn�t agree. This is a young man that likes to fade into the background a lot of the time, simply so he can watch. Yup- Morgan is a bit of what they would call a voyeur. Not in the sexual sense (that you know of)�he likes to watch people. He likes to watch people a lot. It�s what one would call a pastime, and he does it often. Morgan looks for ways to pass time. He knows he�s a warlock but it�s no skin off his back. Either way it doesn�t horribly particularly matter. Right now he�s an overgrown teenager trying to find his niche.
When you�re raised up in the Midwest you know how to say your �yes sir�s and your �no ma�ma�s. Morgan�s been drilled on his manners since a young age. His mother was strict with him, not letting the young man get away with much. His father wasn�t much better, keeping a rigid practice schedule. The young man was fit to be the next great saddle bronc rider from the time he could climb into the chute. He�s the middle child, with an older and younger sister. Both siblings resented the fact that their father was so fixated with their only son�their father never noticed. Morgan just found the attention stifling. He doesn�t like to be cooped up, held back, or caged in. With the iron fisted rule at home, the young felt as if he was stuck in the middle of all three.
Sure, Morgan liked rodeo well enough. It was fast paced, exciting, and there was always something new and different going on. He can�t really think of his younger years without the sport, and it�ll always be a part of him. Still, in his teenage year as he was drifting from old friends and making new ones on the road through the summers, he learned something about himself that was far different than any of the other guys out there. He�d never been that much into girls, sure he knew they were there and he�d made a friend of a barrel racer or two, but that interest was never there. It was with a young man who went by Landon over the course of the summer after he turned 17 that Morgan accepted himself.
His family still doesn�t know of his sexuality. They don�t know much of anything anymore, just that he�d gone off to pursue something new. He never heard from Landon after that summer. Rodeo stopped being interesting. All in all it was time for a change, and with his grandmother�s power cropping up the young man has made his way here. It�s like a moth to a flame, and he�s been sucked in to the point of burning.
As for looks, you could say that Morgan is a good looking kid. He�s just shy of six feet tall with a rancher�s body- shocker, right? The color of his eyes, the unsettling violet, has always perturbed him, leading the man to wear a greenish hazel shade of contacts. He�s shed most of the cowboy style of dress as well, not putting too much effort into appearances so long as it�s clean.
Morgan is an introverted creature until you put a bit of liquid courage into his system. The man avoids alcohol except on what are considered special occasions, and it�s probably for the better. When drunk he�s stuck in the middle of a polar personality shift. What�s usually a polite young man becomes vulgar, crude, and rude. He�s mastered the art of driving while intoxicated, but that gets quite ugly quite fast. It�s the one time that any sort of rage breaks through the man.
Overall, Morgan has a placid surface. He keeps himself bottled up, which can end badly. The young man longs for a community of his own, but would much rather view it all from a distance. He�s an amateur photographer, and feels much safer behind the lens of his camera.
Recently, there was something that changed. Morgan�s world fell apart around him and he was driven off to the dark side. It was into the arms of an immortal man that he went running. Casidhe fixed him. The warlock became immortal� and he wasn�t sure how he felt about it. He still couldn�t tell you. Morgan is returning to Manuka from being away for what feels like a long time already.
app by kel <3
rp sample
Her mind is reeling and whirling and really she feels sick. Anath hasn�t felt sick in a long time, and that�s cause to worry. Usually the times when that thick pit settles in her gut are the ones she�d rather forget. Not the ones she regrets, no. No regrets. The mare that had always flown by the seat of her pants would live without a regret. If she gave thought to all the things she could regret there would have been enough weight and sadness to break her heart. The champagne couldn�t do that. She would keep her head high and marching on.
And so she marched her way into the Lagoon. There was no other way of doing it. Something had passed between them and something was a strange and wild thing. What Anath can�t really find a way to understand is the different structures in the places they live. The Lagoon had a singular king and a right and left hand man. As far as she knew, the only position to be filled was that of king. Thane. In the Peak, the leader of each faction had equal footing and equal power. When there was only one leader, only one had power. If another leader rose of the other factions, they would split the power. A 50/50 split of level headed creatures wasn�t bad. A man hanging above the rest� that could be dangerous.
It was beginning to look like Anath simply lived for danger. The champagne could have been just another female thrill seeker on her way into the Lagoon� she could have been if she hadn�t approached in the dead of night. After putting out the fire that had been started by a mare that couldn�t keep her nose in her own business and checking on the rest of her girls it was late. It didn�t keep Anath from needing to find Thane once more. There was a simple drive and determination to finish what had been started. What had been started, after all? She couldn�t tell you. Of all the things that the champagne knew, what was going on between herself and the king of what should be a warring faction was not one of them.
She cursed herself for not keeping up on her tracking. Like anything it was a skill that needed to be honed and sharpened. It was a talent that had fallen by the wayside to the dun mare, but she could still damn well try. A part of the Lagoon, shrouded deeply in trees and other brush, was darker than the rest. It was here that she found a concentration of his scent and a certain brooding atmosphere. Yes, this must be the place. Like Thane had in the Peak, she stole quietly in under cover of darkness and did not speak. Anath�s eyes and ears were wide awake, tuned on the world around her. �How different the dark is at ground level.� Out loud she muses, a shiver coursing through her body at a passing chilly breeze. Winter is coming.
And so she marched her way into the Lagoon. There was no other way of doing it. Something had passed between them and something was a strange and wild thing. What Anath can�t really find a way to understand is the different structures in the places they live. The Lagoon had a singular king and a right and left hand man. As far as she knew, the only position to be filled was that of king. Thane. In the Peak, the leader of each faction had equal footing and equal power. When there was only one leader, only one had power. If another leader rose of the other factions, they would split the power. A 50/50 split of level headed creatures wasn�t bad. A man hanging above the rest� that could be dangerous.
It was beginning to look like Anath simply lived for danger. The champagne could have been just another female thrill seeker on her way into the Lagoon� she could have been if she hadn�t approached in the dead of night. After putting out the fire that had been started by a mare that couldn�t keep her nose in her own business and checking on the rest of her girls it was late. It didn�t keep Anath from needing to find Thane once more. There was a simple drive and determination to finish what had been started. What had been started, after all? She couldn�t tell you. Of all the things that the champagne knew, what was going on between herself and the king of what should be a warring faction was not one of them.
She cursed herself for not keeping up on her tracking. Like anything it was a skill that needed to be honed and sharpened. It was a talent that had fallen by the wayside to the dun mare, but she could still damn well try. A part of the Lagoon, shrouded deeply in trees and other brush, was darker than the rest. It was here that she found a concentration of his scent and a certain brooding atmosphere. Yes, this must be the place. Like Thane had in the Peak, she stole quietly in under cover of darkness and did not speak. Anath�s eyes and ears were wide awake, tuned on the world around her. �How different the dark is at ground level.� Out loud she muses, a shiver coursing through her body at a passing chilly breeze. Winter is coming.
