[hider=Morrigan Cade]
[center][b][h2] Morrigan Cade[/h2][/b]
[img]https://img00.deviantart.net/8025/i/2009/113/2/0/sketch_by_keileena.jpg[/img]

[url=https://youtu.be/b6CCcTClgYE]Theme song[/url]

[/center]

[u]Additional details[/u]
[Color=gray]Morrigan stands at a towering six foot even. After being part of the track team back in high school he kept up with his daily fitness routine giving him a limber and lean look to his body. His dark tresses are stylishly kept tousled and cut to frame his angular face while hiding a thin scar that goes through his right eyebrow and back towards his temple. He also has his sister's childhood nickname, 'Moog', tattooed on his left wrist. 

He prefers darker jackets and mute colors such as grey and black when it comes to attire.[/color]

[u]Age[/u]
[color=gray]Twenty[/color]

[u]Gender[/u]
[color=gray]Male[/color]

[u]Personality[/u]
[color=gray]There’s warmth despite the fact his body holds no heat. A certain sad joy that could be seen etched in the corners of his eyes. Morrigan wasn’t the brooding type—not by nature at least. His humor bubbled to the surface with ease; a peculiar method of coping he would claim if pressed. His need for social ties seems deeply rooted in his past human life, for when left to his own devices Morrgian's mood dampens and a sense of restlessness settles in. [/color]

[Hider=Bio]
[color=gray]Dying is an art. 

One humankind is adept at. It is pain and peace all swirled into one. And while Morrigan stood on the threshold between life and death his boiling mind could only form one coherent thought, [I]Did it matter?[/i]

In his human years he never found the deep seated hatred that most humans carried for vampires. Did he trust them? No. But it was more like he had accepted their existence just like they had accepted his. But there was fatal curiosity he felt towards them and a deep desire to improve things between humans and vampires.

When the ritual came on his birthday there was a small mixed feeling of disappointment and relief when the stone stayed dull in his hand. For his older sister it had apparently lit up brightly. An adept mage at the ready to help keep the peace between the two. And while some families rejoiced in a better life for their child, Morrigan mourned for the loss of his only sibling. 

He went on in that manner in life. Both curious and cautious, until he happened upon an accident on his way home. Rouge vampires driven by blood lust were few and far between these days. The pairing system worked well to sate their need for blood. But there were still reports in the news—fear  mongering, he had thought.

But the creature that dripped blood before him was not that of the ones whispered in fairy tales. There a young bleeding mage frantically whispered incantations while pressed limply against the street light. While his vampiric partner engaged in a struggle against the towering foe. 

He was losing.
 
Morrigan could see it, the frenzied vampire was older, stronger. And to this day he wasn’t sure why he stepped in. His thoughts a mess from the conversion. Only the sting of pain as something sliced through him and the watery voices that faded in and out for what felt like years. 

Turning wasn’t something one could easily describe. It was like feeling your body fill with molten lead, liquefying and scorching before your brain shut down and brought with it blissful numbness. And awaking was a new world of its own. The peaceful cold of a life long gone but a corpse still animated. 
Now he finds himself caught between the scornful eyes of the pure ones and the distrust of the humans he once belonged too.  [/color][/hider]

[u]Sexual orientation[/u]
[color=gray]Pansexual[/color]

[u]Likes[/u]
[color=gray]Star gazing, reading, listening to people talk, laughter, and music.[/color]

[u]Dislikes[/u]
[color=gray]Conflict, not being able to watch the sun rise, being left alone, and rudeness.[/color]

[u]Habits[/u]
[color=gray]Morrigan still falls prey to his old human habits. Small things like grabbing a cup to make coffee. Or holding his breath when going over a bridge. He also seems to have developed a need to touch objects from time to time—a method to help cope with his new reality.[/color]

[/hider]


[@Achronum] let me know if I need to fix anything.