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Author: Subject: Southend on Sea characters
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[*] posted on 11-5-08 at 07:33 AM
Southend on Sea characters

So you want a character in Southend? You're more than welcome, the more the merrier. There's a couple of guidelines and a couple of requests to follow for the start of the game.

() It is not necessary for the characters to know each other at the start of the game, unless you want them to.

() Characters within the group are likely to be aged around 15-24 (or at least appear that way)

() At the start of the first game, the slayer has not been called, so would still be a slayer in waiting, training and waiting for the time of their calling. This would likely make the slayer at the younger end of the scale (probably around 15-16)

() The watcher is going to be a GM controlled character controlled by myself and TinyClanger.

() Levels of powers and abilities within the group are likely to be fairly low, or poorly controlled/understood at the start of the game. (ie consistant with a newly called slayer).

Apart from those things, knock yourself out, be creative, above all, have fun

Post here :)

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[*] posted on 12-5-08 at 08:34 PM

Henry Thomas Valmont
Age: 23
Height: 5’9”
Hair: Blonde, short cropped and trendy
Build: Athletic gym build

Personality: Henry or Hank is strong willed and out spoken young medic who’s brash and outspoken manner has gotten him into trouble a number of times in his time, especially in the authoritarian environment of the hospital. His life very much morally led, he stands up for his values often at risk to himself.

History: Henry was adopted at a young age, very little is known about his original heritage save that his parents had died young with no siblings or extend family, but that didn’t matter much to him. He was adopted by the Valmont family in Southend-On-Sea and lived a rather uninteresting life, the only thing setting him apart from the other kids were the three small ‘Star’ like birth marks up each of his fore arms. From a young age Henry has always been fascinated with medicine and drove himself to become a doctor, having always had a knack for healing and diagnosis he was a natural. Studying medicine in Brighton he had returned to Southend to begin his first year as a fully fledged doctor in a hospital i.e. 48 hour shifts and bottom of the ladder in the food chain of the hospital but hey at least the pay is good right?

Henry is a White, though he has absolutely no idea he is one. A normal child from normal circumstances he always just thought he had a knack for healing, until the day he saw two gunshot wounds close as tried to do CPR on a patient. Since then a number of strange things has happened around him, diseases healing, bones mending and generally people getting healthier.

This is has been happening on and off for a year, and he has only just realised that it is actually him doing these things, the how and why though… he still has to find out.

Powers: A White is essentially the antithesis of a vampire, rather than feeding of life force they are brimming with it. They need to ‘feed’ this life force into people periodically to alleviate the pressure inside. By feeding the life force into people Henry can heal wounds that would otherwise have killed people. At this point though he has little to no control over it and simply hopes and prays that it works as he treats the patient.

Abilities: Henry is a fully fledged doctor, and has extensive knowledge of most things medical; though not being specialised he essentially knows everything without knowing anything and still relies heavily on his medical books and journals. He keeps himself quite fit, gyming it when can and during his time university was part of the capoeria club, simply for the fact it was fricken cool… He’s not fighter, never thought of using it in a fight but it just keeps him fit.

You know i thought about putting something funny in here but it simply doesn\'t work
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[*] posted on 13-5-08 at 04:11 AM

I'm going to try my hand at playing a Slayer for once.

Name: Marisa Bowen
Age: 16
Race: Human
Occupation: Slayer

Physical Description:
Marisa is relatively short, even for her age; standing at about 5’ 4” and weighing 120 lbs., which is why she has never excelled at anything athletic. She has long reddish-brown hair that is usually braided on one side or otherwise worn in a simple plait, but it isn’t well-groomed or particularly taken care of. Her large brown eyes are usually staring off into the distance.

Her clothing typically consists of a plain shirt and a pair of jeans; she rarely shows any interest in the latest fashions and doesn’t bother with makeup.

Marisa’s family is originally from Southampton. Her mother, Angelica, died when she was five years old and her father, Nicholas raised her alone, making ends meet working at the port as an assistant dock supervisor. She has always had few friends in school and comes across as an antisocial, preferring the company of books to people, since she took to reading many of them on the days her father worked long into the night.

She moved to Southend very recently due to her father’s relocation after being promoted. Marisa is still getting settled into her new school and new home, which is a modest two-bed flat, and is trying to make the most of her situation. She got high grades at her comprehensive school in Southampton but after the move she has been having trouble studying due to constant nightmares.

In addition to her build and mundane background, one would not think of Marisa as Slayer material just by talking to her. She gets along better with adults better than her own peers and it takes a while for her to warm up to most people. It usually requires some initiative on part of the other party, but few people ever bother simply due to her quirkiness, though she has never been bullied; she’s just simply there.

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[*] posted on 16-5-08 at 12:35 PM

Name: Beverly Knight
Age: 16
Appearance: 5'3", medium build. Always looks smart in public.
Race: Lycan


Beverly hates his life, he has no friends and is bullied in school for his name and family.

His family have always live in Southend on Sea and are typical upper middle class where they try to prove to society that they are really upper class. His family don't really see what is going on in their sons life because they are to wrapped up in work and trying to show social standing. Because of this he looks after himself most of the time. His father is very overbearing about always looking smart and giving off a good public image.

About 6 months ago late at night Beverly suffered a vicious bite from a canine and since then has discovered that he can now change into a wolf. This has caused him to have an even greater distrust of people because he does not want anyone to find out that he is a freak, he suffers enough with his bullying he does not want to give them another one.

Scape Goat, for when the revolution comes! (At least its a job)

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[*] posted on 19-5-08 at 09:46 PM

Name: Brock Lannigan
Age: 18
Race: Human
Occupation: Deserter/ awol

Description: Strong stocky looking build. 6'1'', chestnut color short cut hair. a few tattoos scattered around his body.

Bio: Brock was the son of a General Rodger Lannigan. A strict insufferable prick that raised his son to always prepare for the worst. Being trained since childhood a combination of fighting skills to battle tactics and survival. Brock had, had his fill of that lifestyle. General Lannigan had him signed up to join the Marines at age seventeen... Only three months before Brock was supposed to go to basic training. General Rogder Lannigan died in a suicide bombing. After being trained most of his life he didn't want anything to do with the service. Buying a plane ticket to his Mother's home town Southend-on-Sea. He plans to lead a regular life, or he hopes to.
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[*] posted on 20-5-08 at 10:49 PM

Name : Lilly
Age: 15
Race: Human... probabily
Occupation : Student

Bio: Lilly is like most 15 year old girls, she goes to school, hangs out, watches TV, goes shopping does normal teenage stuff. However there are a few things that set her appart from other teenagers. The main one is that she has an issue with electronic things. Not that she couldn't use them, far from it, since she was 11 weird things started to happen when she was around them. It started by being able to change the chanels on the TV without a remote, and it spirialed from them. Electircal things really liked her she soon discovered she could make them do almost anything she wanted, not that this was a good thing. It had all started one night when she was 11, she'd been helping her older brother steal copper sheets from a sub station, he'd been looking after her and well had 'work' to do so took her with him. It probabily hadn't been the best plan ever, Lilly remembered the night very clearly she'd been watching a lunar eclipse and explaining it in great detail to her brother, Lilly's other advantage was that she was incredibly smart. Her mother had high hopes for her, she was going to be the fiirst member of the family to leave school with some qualifications and perhaps even go to collage and do a non vocational course. SHe had been watching the moon sat on top of the substation roof, as her brother stole bits of it. It had been a pretty normal night, well for her when her brother was baby sitting it was normal, that was until she got hit by the lightening. It had come from nowhere at the point of totality in the eclipse, a bolt that had sent her flying and knocked her clean out. Her brother had nearly died of fright and rushed to her expecting to find his sister in bits and pieces, she wasn't aside from being knocked out for three minutes there wasn't a sracth on her. But that was the night before the weird electrical stuff started.

Lilly lived a fairly normal existance, she lived with her mum in a small three bedroomed house not far from south end sea front. She didn't know her father he'd walked out before he first birthday, she had a brother who was 7 years older than she was and who through out his youth had been in and out of trouble. He was currently on remand for credit card fraud. He mum worked in one of the souviner shops on the sea front, it was minimum wage but it was better than nothing.

Lilly has kept her ability hidden, well mostly hidden her brother knew something was up but he couldn't tell anyone especially there mum otherwise she'd have found out about the whole sub station incident. Lilly attends the local comprehensive, well okay she sometimes attends it, but she often finds herself bored, and restless, it's hard being in top sets for subjects and still finding them easy while getting top grades, and it's that boredom that sometimes get Lilly into trouble. She has been picked up for playing truant more times than she can count usually when walking back to school from gate crashing lessons at the local collage, which she usually finds more interesting than her normal lessons. She has also gotten into trouble with the police for other things, several incidents with her brother and cars that didn't technically belong to him, and most recently she got picked up for tampering with ATM's, which she actually was, it was close to christmas and well with seasonal work money was tight, and her mum didn't want her working she rather Lilly concentrated on her studies, so she had to get money somehow and ATM's were just an electrical device. She'd gotten caught the 4th time she'd done it, she'd never taken more than a tenner and well she got off without even getting a caution, well who would believe the ATM just gave her the money, the police didn't which was good for her.

Description: Lilly is quite short for her age with should length brown hair, she dresses much like what people would call the skater crowd. She is very plain to look at, and is pretty much of an average build.

"But I don't want to go among mad People" Alice remarked.
"Oh you can't help that," Said the Cat, "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad"

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[*] posted on 3-9-08 at 02:35 PM

Okay, so I succumbed... and sorry about the loooong bio!


Name: Connor Joseph Aloysius O’Reilly
Age: 24
D.O.B.: February 1st
P.O.B.: Dun Laoghaire, Ireland
Nationality: Irish
Gender: Male

Height: 6’ 1"
Build: Average, toned
Skin Tone: Slightly swarthy
Hair: Dark brown, short, and usually worn messy and slightly spiky
Eyes: Amber, ringed with thick black lashes
Distinguishing Features: A tattoo of a protection spell in the Celtic Ogham along his spine, extending from the nape of his neck to the small of his back; a tattoo of Brigid’s cross on his upper left arm

Family: Father: Seamus O’Reilly, 46, dock worker at Dun Laoghaire Ferry Port; Mother: Mary O’Reilly, 48, lecturer in Philosophy at Trinity College, Dublin; Brothers: Michael, 22, Padraig, 20; Sister: Roisin, 17

Personal History

Connor Joseph Aloysius O’Reilly was born at home in Sandycove, just outside Dun Laoghaire, Ireland, on a clear morning in early February. His parents, Seamus and Mary O’Reilly, were strict Catholics who had fallen pregnant shortly after they had married. This was totally unplanned, as Mary was just starting out a promising career with the Philosophy department at Trinity College, Dublin, and Seamus had not yet finished his Bachelors’ degree in Psychology. Together for only six months before they married, such was their sense of Catholic guilt at their one instance of sex before marriage, when Seamus proposed while they were still in bed, Mary felt bound to accept, although she was far from ready to settle down. They married in a quiet ceremony in St Michael’s Church in Dun Laoghaire, with the full blessing of their parents.

However, neither of them had anticipated that Mary would be pregnant within 3 months. Connor was born after a surprisingly easy delivery, at 8am on February 1st – Imbolc, in the old Celtic calendar. The sun was just rising over the Irish Sea as he was born, striking him, as his father held him up for the first time, with an almost golden glow. A peaceful baby, Mary and Seamus thought they had it all. Seamus gave up his degree to look after Connor, so that Mary could carry on with her job as a lecturer at Trinity College, Dublin, and this meant that father and son had a very strong bond from the start.

Seamus was a very devout Catholic, and took Connor to Mass at St Michael’s on an almost daily basis. Seamus found comfort in the ritual of the Latin mass, and desperately wanted for Connor to care as passionately about the church as he did. Although transfixed by the music from the time he was able to sit, that was about as far as his interest in the church would ever develop for Connor. As he grew, so did his parents’ brood, and Connor had two brothers and a sister by the time he was seven years old.

It was around this age that Connor started to develop an obsessive interest with old Celtic tales and lore, reading anything he could get his hands on which chronicled the tales of Lugh, Bran, Finn MacCumhaíl, the Bean Sidh (banshee), and other great Irish heroes and gods. However, the story of Brigid, daughter of the Dagda Samildanach and one of the Tuatha Dé Danann held his attention more than any other.

For his eighth birthday, Connor persuaded his father to take him on a visit to the Church of St Brigid in Kildare, in order to see the sacred firepit and her holy well. Seamus agreed, but for totally different reasons – he saw the visit as a pilgrimage, where Connor saw it as an adventure. While Seamus entered the church for Mass, Connor lingered outside, almost shaking with anticipation – this was where Brigid once walked, where she ensured that her shrine, her sacred place, was untouched by man. With a typical child’s curiosity and naivete, he didn’t join his father inside; instead, he walked around the site until finding her holy well. The clooties attached to the tree beside it, left in offering to Brigid, flapped rapidly on his approach, despite there being no breeze.

Connor felt a little scared. Despite the unbelievably spiritual aspect, and safe feeling of this place, he couldn’t help but feel threatened by these mysteriously fluttering pieces of cloth. He sat down heavily on the edge of the well, feeling suddenly drained. He closed his eyes, trying to gather the energy to get up and run back to the church, back to da, but he couldn’t. He was just so... tired. Connor lay down on the parapet on the edge of the well, ready to sleep, but was interrupted by a soft hand on his shoulder, and a heavenly warmth on his face.

He sat with a start, almost falling into the well, expecting his father to be stood there, angry with him for not attending Mass. However, stood before him was a calm, beautiful woman in her mid twenties, heavily pregnant, and dressed in a flowing blue robe, a mantle of white covering her head. Tendrils of soft brown hair were blowing in the non-existent breeze. In her hand, she held a green candle, the flame of which was an incandescent amber, the same colour as Connor’s eyes. The woman’s presence was so serene, so reassuring, that all of his fear vanished, and his exhaustion was replaced with a warm, calm sensation spreading throughout his body. A name resonated in Connor’s mind... Brigid... Although raised Catholic, he did not see this as a vision of the Virgin Mary, but knew instinctively that this was Brigid, the ancient Celtic Triple Goddess, showing her “Mother” face.

He reached out to her to take the candle, and he felt an immense sense of power running through him as he did so. Something inside him had been unlocked, something that had been latent since the day he was born. As soon as the candle was in Connor’s hand, Brigid disappeared. He could hardly believe it. As he stared at the candle, the whole stick of wax burst into flames, without burning his hand. This broke the trance he had been in, and scared him sufficiently to run, hell-for-leather, back to the church, where his father had just left the service. Excitedly, thinking nothing of it, he prattled on to his father about having seen a woman in blue at the well. His father, devout as he was, instantly believed that his son had been blessed with a vision of the Virgin Mary, and headed straight back to tell their parish priest in Dun Laoghaire.

Connor was not only uncomfortable with the attention that he was afforded because of what he had seen, but there was no way he could tell his father that it wasn’t the Virgin he had seen, but a Celtic goddess who had given him... something. He just wasn’t sure what it was. However, it didn’t take long to discover what Brigid had unlocked in him. He was sat beside his mother, bored at Mass one Sunday, several months later, when he focused on one of the flames of the candles on the high altar. He hadn’t forgotten the incredible amber colour of the flame on Brigid’s candle all those months before, and wondered what it would take to turn that particular candle that colour.

Not much, apparently. The more he focused on the candle, the more amber the flame became, until it was burning as bright as any lightbulb, as intense as the setting sun. Scared by what he had seemingly just done, Connor leapt out of his seat and ran outside, not noticing that the second he stopped focusing, the flame returned to its usual, waxy orange. Chased by his father, who was ready to chastise him, he relented when seeing the terrified expression on the boy’s face. Believing that his son may have just experienced another religious epiphany, Seamus dragged Connor back inside, waiting at the back of the church until Mass was over, before dragging him up to Father Donal, and asking for Connor to receive religious instruction from him, as the boy was obviously a visionary.

Father Donal, more concerned about the boy’s supposed visions than Seamus, refused – most likely, the boy was over-excitable and hysterical, and religious instruction at this age would be unlikely to help the situation. Seamus was unhappy, but, at least on the face of things, was understanding of the priest’s position, and, instead, encouraged Connor to use the local library after school every day to read up on the various tenets of Catholicism. However, being almost 9, Connor found a much better way to use this time – he read as much as possible on Brigid, Celtic deities, and Celtic magic. He had to know how he had managed to change the colour of the candle flame.

This continued for several years, with Connor digesting any text on the Celtic esoteric he could get his hands on. He was as dedicated a scholar of the old Celtic ways as he was at school, and, by the time he was 13, was determined to find someone to teach him. He had already figured out that he could manipulate fire and metal, and had successfully performed several basic candle rituals in the privacy of the shed at the bottom of the garden, where he had hidden a makeshift altar to Brigid. However, most of his abilities, such as creation and control of small flames, and the melting and shaping of metal, seemed to be spontaneous, and something he barely even had to concentrate on to make happen now.

Visiting Dublin’s Central Library one Saturday, he attempted to withdraw several rather advanced and old texts on Celtic spellcasting and ritualisation, and was stopped by the librarian, a woman in her mid-40s, who asked him whether he knew what he was getting into. Supremely confident, Connor said yes, and asked if she had any idea what he was already into! She simply smiled, and showed him her ring – a Brigid cross. Taking him across to a reading area, she quietly explained that she was a member of the Ord Brighideach, the Flamekeepers of Brigid. Concerned for the young boy’s wellbeing, she offered to teach him how to invoke and control the powers that Brigid and Celtic magic could offer. She was stunned when he told her that he had already been gifted with certain abilities, and offered to help him understand and develop them.

Connor accepted, and this woman, Sorcha Cullinan, became his teacher. She was a first class witch, specialising in ritual magic which invoked Brigid in all her forms – Maiden, Mother, Crone – and found it a delight to pass on her knowledge to Connor. He was a more than adequate student, and drank in everything she could teach him. His parents had no idea, believing him to be spending Saturdays with his friends in Dublin. He also learned more control over his innate abilities, using the powers of Brigid the forge-keeper and blacksmith with great skill.

When he was 18, his parents wanted for him, as the eldest son, to enter the seminary and take Holy Orders. However, Connor’s beliefs were now so far removed from Catholicism that he refused, applying for and winning a place at University College Dublin to take a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Celtic Studies. His vast knowledge of Irish and other Celtic lore stood him in good stead, and he passed at age 22 with a first class degree. However, these four years had angered his parents, and, as soon as he completed his degree, he left Dun Laoghaire for good, travelling first to Kildare to pay homage to Brigid, and then to the UK, looking for a place to settle. Leaving Sorcha was a wrench, but it had become increasingly clear over the last couple of years that there was no more that she could teach him.

He landed up in Southend-On-Sea, with a job as a guide at Prittlewell Priory, a local museum – not ideal, but a starting point. He continued to work with magic as often as he could, but, living in a shared house, this was not as easy as he would have liked.

Connor had a fairly typical romantic life as a teenager and university student, dating almost constantly. Although not typically handsome, his face had a cheeky, almost rough charm that the girls liked. His longest relationship was for 6 months in his second year at university, with another Celtic studies student, but, not being a fan of the bunny-boiler type, he ended the relationship when she started turning up at his meetings with Sorcha, and accusing him of cheating on her. He has been on a few dates since arriving in Southend a year earlier, but nothing more, preferring to generally keep himself to himself.

Connor’s Call to Brigid

Connor recites this invocation when he needs stronger powers of Brigid and is unable to perform rituals.

Brigid My Smith,
I dedicate myself to You.
I will make all the work of my hands in Your Honour and in hope of Your Blessing.
Mould me gently when You can and sharply when You must.
Temper and shape me in the fire of Your Forge.

Brigid my Healer,
I dedicate myself to You.
I will work to Heal those I encounter in Your Honour and in hope of Your Blessing.
Teach me with Your warming fire when You can and Your burning fire when You must.
Mould me in the cleansing and healing fire of Your Cauldron.

Brigid, my Inspiration,
I dedicate myself to You.
I will give the words of my heart, the music of my soul in Your Honour and in hope of Your Blessing.
Kindle bonfires in me when You can and forest fires when You must.
Incite and inspire me with the fire that falls from Your Harp.

To the protection of Your Mantle, I yield me.
In the Well of Your Wisdom, I bathe me.
To Your Transforming Fire, I yield me.
To the Keeping of Your Sacred Flame, I commit me.
Brigid, I am Your child.
Guide me waking.
Guard me sleeping.
Teach me always.
Grieve and rejoice with me,
Dancer in the Flame.
So mote it be.

Character Strengths: A gifted innate magic user, blessed since birth with the power of Brigid. This means that he essentially has the power of the forge, and can manipulate and use fire and metal without having to perform ritual magic or spellcasting. Is adept and extremely proficient in all aspects of Celtic ritual magic. Discreet and kind, once you have him onside, he will do anything for you. Annoy him, and you have an enemy for life. He tries to live by the Threefold Rule, but is not self-disciplined enough to always manage it.

Character Weaknesses: Can be too casual about using his magic, especially when not requiring a ritual. Unless he ususes full Celtic rituals and spells, his magic is limited to only the powers gifted by Brigid, although through speaking his Call to Brigid if given the chance, his innate powers can become more focused and concentrated, and have more of an effect. If he invokes this extra power from Brigid, he feels drained for several hours afterwards, depending on the intensity of the extra powers invoked. Has no compunction about using his magic in public or inappropriate places. Can be thoughtless and slapdash, and is not always above using his powers for revenge if he feels it is necessary.

Personal attitude and demeanour: Connor is friendly and open, possessing the Irish gift of the gab in spades. Happiest when performing rituals or communing with Brigid, he can be a little standoffish if either of these practices is interrupted. He is frustrated at having to live in a shared house, and not have the room to set up a permanent altar to his goddess, and has a habit of setting up a temporary altar outside as and when the mood takes him, especially on the beach. Loyal to a fault, he is someone you want to be on the right side of.

Additional Information

Connor relies on Brigid a little too much on occasion to get him out of situations of his own creation. He has had several instances where the return on his outgoing magic has had a very negative effect on him, both physically and emotionally, and has yet to learn that he can’t always do what he wants.

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[*] posted on 4-9-08 at 08:13 PM

Name: Georgia Steele
Age: Unknown, appears to be around 16-17.
Race: Appears to be human
Occupation: Occult Savant/Drifter

Physical Description:

Standing about 5’7” tall, long brown hair down her back, brown eyes, average looking, Georgia is pretty unremarkable, but there is something about her that makes her stand out in a crowd, she always seems to attract attention, sometimes good, sometimes not so good, but always noticed.


Georgia has no memories of any time apart from the last 18 months, when she woke up one day on a bench in Hyde park with the clothes she was wearing, a small purse containing an ID card with her name on it, and a cash card to a bank account with a thousand pounds in it. She had no idea how she had got there, or even who she really was, there was no memories there at all. What there was, however, was knowledge.

Georgia has a detailed knowledge of the occult, magics, languages, legends, mythology and all things strange. She also has skill in picking locks, disarming traps, making potions and concoctions. The problem is, she has no idea why she has this knowledge, it is all without context, like words in an encyclopedia.

In need of money, Georgia went to work at a petrol station in Lewisham, after trying all the museums, and a few of the more obscure organisations such as the watcher’s council and the ISC, all of whom turned her down due to a complete absence of relevant qualifications. She managed just fine there, well, up until the day about six months in when the store was robbed at gunpoint. Georgia, in a moment of stupidity, tried to snatch the sawn off shotgun from one of the robbers, and ended up getting shot in the chest at near point blank. She dropped to the floor, dead. It hit the papers, there was uproar, but there was one problem. Georgia woke up some four hours later, in the morgue of the local hospital, having been declared dead. She knew she should have been dead, but she wasn’t, which was even more confusing for the girl. She tried to go back to work the following day, but they threw her out, accusing her of playing some sort of sick joke by pretending to be the dead girl.

The next few months were hard, her flat was taken, her money was frozen, she was, as far as the state was concerned, dead. There was a death certificate, although she never found out what sort of cover-up there must have been to hide her missing body. Georgia ended up on the streets, moving from squat to cardboard box to squat, trying to make ends meet with a variety of approaches, some far less pleasant than others. Then one day, six months ago, she was taken from the streets to somewhere else...


It’s often said that Georgia has an old head on her shoulders, but she’s been like that for, well, the limited amount of time she can remember. She is quite sociable, and a good speaker, as well as very intelligent, but that is somewhat tempered by the complete lack of context to her knowledge, which can lead to bad choices sometimes. She can be quite manipulative, and is known to get her own way by whatever means seems like a good idea at the time.
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[*] posted on 18-10-08 at 08:07 AM

Name:Jayce Abraham Morgan
Age: 15
D.O.B.: 12th February
P.O.B.: Philadelphia, USA
Nationality: American
Gender: Male

Hair: Light brown hair with streaks of light, short and ruffled mostly
Eyes: Green
Appearance: Slightly taned skin, average height Jayce is well toned due to his passion for the martial arts.

Family: David Morgan (Father) Professor of Linguistics. Sandra Morgan (Mother) Librarian. No siblings, an only child.

Personal History:
Jayce was born on the 12th of February in Philadelphia to proud parents David and Sandra Morgan. To add to their joy their son shared his birthday with 16th president of the united states Abraham Lincoln, this sparked the first ongoing arguement his parents would ever have over naming Jayce after the man himself.

Jayce's father was a Professor of Linguistics at the University of Pennsylvania whilst his mother was a librarian at the same campus. They met fell in love and the rest was history. Being an only child Jayce was the focus of all their attentions the relationship they had as a family was strong. Jayce's parents however were older compared to the rest of the kids and although Jayce didn't want to notice he couldn't help it. In his early school days he hadn't noticed it so much but in middle school he began to get bullied. Being an only child and incredibly close to his parents Jayce would often come home in floods of tears, or at the worst times with a shiner obscuring his features. Watching what was happening to their son was incredibly painful for David and Sandra, they tried to do the things that normal parents did with their kids but David didn't have the time nor was he as young as he once was.

Jayce found sport to be a good outlet for him to get away from daily life. He was particuarly fond of a less popular excercise in the area Ju-Jitsu. Although not something that his parents had encouraged Jayce had found himself to have a particular applitude for it. Unlike other martial arts it covered all kinds of techniques and Jayce found himself eager to learn. It boosted his self-confidence no end and his parents began to come around to the idea of it as long as Jayce assured them he would never use it at school. Although he found himself close many times he had kept to his promise.

When Jayce turned 14, David and Sandra finalised their move, they would be moving to England, Southend on sea in particular. David was to take up a new appointment within in the University of Essex campus in Southend on sea and Jayce was to come with them. Although initially negative towards the thought of a move Jayce soon came round to the idea. This would be a new start for him and he would be with the people who mattered to him most in his life, his parents.

Jayce begun his first day of school with an renewed enthusiasm and the kids appeared welcoming to him. Apparently his smooth american accent set him apart from the other kids in school, with his boyish charm he soon found himself with many friends. Double the amount he had managed to keep back home in Phili. Enroling in a new ju-jitsu class Jayce continued to learn and perfect his technique. With his new found enthusiasm his grades in class began to improve. He had always tried hard back home but there had always been something to get in his way. Now he found doing well easier and much more widely accepted, maths and science never proved to be his strong point but he proved he certainly had a way with words and not just with the ladies. Ju-Jitsu occupied his body and writing occupied his mind.

England was a world apart from the streets of Phili he felt he was the most streetwise of all of them. He believed he knew the threats perhaps somewhat stupidly and had the self confidence and ability to believe he was beyond being hurt ever again. In just a year Jayce had become as familiar with his new town as someone who had spent all 15 years of their life living there. Whilst he remembered the promise he had made to his parents about the use of Ju-Jitsu he showcased his talents in the far distanced corners of the school field away from the gaze of unapproving eyes.

Jayce Abraham Morgan
'Why are we Disconnected, this can't be right...
Love should be easier, should be the time of our lives'
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[*] posted on 18-10-08 at 10:03 PM

Welcome aboard :)

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