[CENTER][IMG]http://i.imgur.com/YSfTeCl.jpg?1[/IMG]

[i]"If experience has taught me anything, it's that this is going to get a whole lot worse before it even starts to get any better."[/i][/CENTER]

[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| NAME(S): |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]​Jon Turner. It's not his real name, merely the latest of his many pseudonyms[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| NICKNAME(S): |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]He's gone by a lot of different names over the centuries, mostly by necessity, and while he's been fond of some of them he's unlikely to share them with anyone now. Leave the past in the past, that's Jon's motto, even if he struggles to live by it.​[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| D.O.B.: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]03/15/1820[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| AGE: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]195[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| SEX: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]Male​[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| APPEARANCE: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]The first thing somebody will notice upon meeting Jon is that he's big. Real big. Bigger than just about anyone else in the room. Now if you were to measure him he only just tops 6'2", and while that is tall it isn't enough to warrant the sheer sense [i]size[/i] that he extrudes. Likewise, while broad and brawny, this single fact still doesn't equal to scope of largeness that he encapsulates. It's something indescribably that leads one to surmise he is gigantic, a primal aura that surrounds and suffuses him, making him seem to tower head and shoulders over other people.

He keeps his curly hair and beard short, the once uniform black now shot with iron grey,  a fact that bothers him not a jot. In fact, he feels the grey makes him look distinguished, though he'd never admit out loud to such a superficial fancy. His features appear to be chiselled out of granite, and he tries to show just as much emotion. He isn't a man who typically allows himself to outwardly express his inner feelings, or at least not in any ostentatious manner, instead endeavouring to affect a casually impassive air, though the act is a flimsy one, as the years have forced him to admit that he is a man ruled by his passions. This shows as cracks in his cool façade, the clench of a jaw as something angers him, the twitch of an eyelid when he has to deal with fools, the twist of the lips as he fights the urge to smile.

He always comes dressed to the nines, preferring understated tailored suits and jackets of dark colouring. He is partial to matching his suits with a suitable waistcoat, a practical decision as much as cosmetic one, as a waist coat allows a man more pockets to conceal things. He affects no jewellery or sartorial adornments other than expensive belts, and an old fashioned pocket watch. He prefers riding boots to shoes, a quirk he's held ever since he's youth. 

Runic tattoos adorn the backs of his hands, pectoral muscles, and shoulder blades. The few times he's met other Magni they've assumed they served as conduits to better focus his powers. The truth, however, is far more mundane. He got them while drunk.[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| GENUS: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]​Magni[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]|CLASSIFICATION: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]Morteni[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| ABILITIES/SKILLS: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[indent]Wields the power of a venerable and practised Magi, though it's with the ruinous skills of a Morteni that he finds he truly excels. He has a few preferred tricks, such as carving fell runes into the caps of his bullets before firing them, guaranteeing the death of anyone struck by them, or placing hands upon a person and draining their vitality until they are nothing more than a withered husk, though it should be noted he is capable of snatching a beings life force without physical contact, it's just much easier that way. 

His absolute favourite technique though, the one he uses more than any other, is actually one of his least flashy. It is to merely remind his victims of their mortality, to use they're own specific fears of the grave against them in their own personal hells. For instance if one man is afraid of drowning, then Jon will lock him in a grim fantasy of being lost at sea during a storm, the man's strength gradually giving up in the face of the tempest, left with no other option than to slowly succumb to the cold grasp of the sea, and to sink down into the ink dark waters, lungs burning as he realizes there's no other way out, nothing else awaiting him than a watery grave. Jon doesn't even need to know what these fears are to use this power, he merely serves as the nudge that sends the victim spiralling into their own nightmares. The effects this has own people is myriad, but mostly they are left babbling in terror, lost in their own delusions. Those of weak constitutions have even died from being subjected to this horror.

However Jon hasn't really utilized his powers as a Magi in decades, and as such has become 'rusty'. Where once his spells would roll of his tongue with all the grace of the familiar name of a lover, now he stumbles upon the words like a student learning a new language. His halting magecraft is not just as simple a thing as being out of practice though, it's more down to his own apprehension about using his own powers. Too many times in the past has he tried to utilize his gifts for good, only for it to end in disaster. He has come to see the Vis as a drug, and his use of it akin to a junkie giving in to his habit. The powers of a Morteni he finds especially intoxicating, and especially detrimental to his better judgement. 

It should probably go without saying that he has almost no affinity for Sani magic’s, as manipulating the Lux to heal and protect runs completely contrary to his Morteni sensibilities. He knows just enough to seal a cut or set a broken bone, but the act of doing such is incredibly taxing. 

Has fought in two wars, and spent years performing as both a law man and a bounty hunter. Knows how to fight, track and shoot. He was once an accomplished quick draw. 

Believes himself to have quite a deep understanding of the human condition, though he's willing to admit that he's quite the cynic, and constantly views other with a jaded eye.

Can play the guitar reasonably well.[/indent]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| BACKSTORY: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]Born to African American slaves in early nineteenth century Virginia.

Lives the life of a slave for nine years, until his father joins Nat Turner's ill fated slave rebellion in 1831. The rebellion is crushed, Jon's mother, who never formerly joined the rebellion is killed to set a bloody warning for the other slaves. Jon, still young and relatively healthy, is spared by his masters, who pragmatically decide they can still get many more years of work from him. Though Jon desires vengeance, he has just witnessed what standing up for oneself actually gets one. He keeps his head down.

In 1835 he see's his chance for freedom, and escapes into the north. Though he would have liked to have extracted some form of revenge from his former owners, he was under no allusions as to his own capablities or the obstacles facing him if he pursued that path, feeling it was wiser to forgo his own desires to escape and earn the freedom his parents had wanted for him, as that would be the truly right thing to do if he was to honour their memories. He would later find out, after finally crossing the Canadian border, that his former owners killed twenty slaves in an effort to find out where he had dissapeared to, not out of any real desire to catch him, but as an effort to dissuade any other slaves from making escape attempts. 

While in Canada he meets a man going by the name of Elon Rothfuss. Elon claims to be a Magi, a being able to wield great magic. He goes on to state his belief that Jon is also a Magi. While Jon is initially skeptical, he is eventually won over, and agrees to tutor under Elon. The apprenticeship of a Magi is a long, slow process, but Jon revelled in the power it gave him, after feeling powerless for so long. He showed the beginnings of being a highly talented Magi. 

In 1852, Jon becomes restless. He looks at the plight of the slaves and realizes that he now had the power to actually do something about their problems. Elon, however, disagrees, and tries to convince Jon that he isn't quite as powerful as the younger man believes. They fight, going their seperate ways, Jon going south. Jon attempts to free a plantation of slaves, though the attempt goes disastrously. He and the escapees are tracked and caught, Jon being injured by the southern owners and left for dead. He survives, but only barely. 

After his first, great failure he retreats north once more, looking for Elon, hoping to make ammends. He never finds him, and is left alone with his feelings of inadequacy. For several years he mopes, ignoring his skills as a Magni to instead work on his skills as a drunkard. 

Civil War breaks out in 1961, this proving enough to break depressions hold on Jon. He joins the North and fights through the war.

After the war was won he held many jobs, all the while practicing his magic. At one point he became a sheriffs deputy in a small gold rush town, where he witnessed the towns populac murder a mexican family due to nothing else than racial prejudices. He chose the path of a Morteni, and with his new found powers he slaughtered the towns inhabitants, all 97 of them. 

After that he became a bounty hunter, one known for ruthlessly gunning down his marks. That lasted until the turn of the century, when he hung up his guns. He also stopped practicin magic, feeling his skills were too tightly entwined with his Morteni sensibilties to make themselves truly useful in civilian life. 

Travelled to Mississipi to become a Delta Blues guitarrist. Recorded one record, though it has very few surving copies today. He married a white girl, and they had a daughter together. White supremicists took umbridge, killed his wife and tried to kill him. They failed, and he extracted swift and terrible justice, though the aftermath made him sick. He realized he was an unfit parent and gave his young daughter up for adoption.

He wouldn't fight again until the forties, when he joined the allied's efforts against Nazi Germany. For once he felt justified in pursuing violent justice, as if anyone deserved to have guns levelled against him it was the Nazis. He took part in D-Day, one of the most horrific engagements in human history. . . and enjoyed it. His savage joy in the face of combat terrified his comrades, and it was the frightened looks in their faces that made him realize that, other by the magic of a Morteni inside him or by some unbalance psychosis in his head, that he held a monster inside. For the remainder of the war he worked hard at tempering himself, never quite succeeding.

As a way to make up for past wrongs he joined the 1960's peace movement, though was never the most commited of members. It was a pipedream, he knew, to end war. Men just enjoyed killing each other too much. He knew that better than most.

Opened a music shop in Pointe Bordeux. [/INDENT]
[colour=darkslategray][h3][B]| MOTIVATION/OBJECTIVE: |[/B][/h3][/colour]
[INDENT]Honestly, he doesn't know. Has he decided to hitch his wagon to the hypes in a long overdue quest for redemption, is it out of a dislike to see the rights and freedoms of others quashed by those in power, or is it out of a simple ennui? He suspects rather than being one of the above, it is actually a combination of all three, along with dozens of other smaller motivations. After all, his long years have taught him that men aren't so simple as to be easily boiled done to one simple want or need, and he is under no allusions as to believe himself any different.[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| REFERENCE POST(S): |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT][url=https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/before-the-dawn-ic.127091/#post-2635438]Before the Dawn[/url] Ser Faen of Amor, greatest hero of Amorynthia, is rough as shit.
[url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3032106]Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice[/url] The Wildcat prowls.
[url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/2894178]Teen Titans: Divided We Fall[/url] Simone never loses her cool.
[/INDENT]
[h3][colour=darkslategray][B]| NOTES: |[/B][/colour][/h3]
[INDENT]I'm not fussy when it comes to pizza. As long as it doesn't have pineapple I'm happy. Gherkins are always welcome though.[/INDENT]