Great things come to those who lie in wait...

Reality is, of course, what you think it is. When what you expect can be what really happens, what must really happen, what is insanity and delusion except the certainty of prescience, and the ability to dictate what happens around you? What is the madman, if not the prophet and god all wrapped up into a single entity?

Morgan

A tall, somewhat willowy figure dressed in black slacks and vest with dark red frills as part of a matching poet's shirt, he seems somewhat effete to be half of the things he claims to be. He claims always to tell nothing but the truth, yet his own mask, a blood-red material held to his face by a leather band slung beneath his long red braid, proclaims proudly in Strangescript that he is a Liar. Leather gloves and moccasins complete the image, allowing him to move more or less silently when he expects to. All in all, he would be a rather perfectly average appearing inidividaul, were it not for the spiral-shaped pupils in his eyes rotating randomly, or the Strangeshiv he keeps tucked into his sleeve.

Morgan (the Gentleman)

Polite, though arrogant, with a sense of proper attitude and activity. His favorite time is Tea, and his favorite entertainment is gladitorial combat between Hemotopians, with the threat of ostracism as 'reward' for the loser. He also professes his undying affection for Camilla, who was polite, pale, and playing along with his madness when he decided to love her. His highest ideal for them is to commit joint suicide in the manner of ancient tragedies, though it unlikely to affect him very much.

Morgan (the Hooligan)

Often incomprehensible, with a desire to knock the heads of those around him quite readily and willfully, and with a complete and utter disdain of everyone around him, excepting those who have proved themselves to him one way or another. Prefers the company of Trilogee, though he, in part, thinks she's a loose end.

Morgan (The High Lord)

Perhaps the 'truest' face of Morgan. He claims to be the High Lord of the Hemotopians, and has yet to be called out on it. Displaying a measure of authority over the Strangevirus material and its formation, he expects Hemotopians to kneel or bow to him, and serve him willingly. Calm to the point of suicidal, and remote, he holds himself as the all-powerful monarch that he thinks he is. Hemotopians, to him, are his royal subjects, his elite, his warriors and knights...and everyone else is chattel.

Fractured

Reality tends to break around Morgan repeatedly. Any situation in which he finds himself to be a disadvantage he simply ignores, and reality runs twice in awareness of those around him- the situation that happened that he didn't approve of, and his own reality. The results of both occur, to a point- if killed, his body isn't lying on the ground, but things that *might* have been his (such as his heart being torn out) still occur and remain. Those he expects to kill may or may not fall, as their wish, but as all it takes is a moment of imagination to conjure a head out of the aether, a head attached to a twitching neck dripping gore onto the ground at his feet isn't far out of line for a madman. This ability also tends to manifest as a sudden appearance or disappearance from point to point, or simply rotating in place without moving. As he expects to be looking one way or another, going through the motions of motion don't always occur if he's caught up in what's going on.

Strangevirus Relations

Morgan tends to 'command' Strangevirus cultures around him; more likely this is just him imposing his desires upon Puzzlebox, who in turn relays what he expects. He has been known to forge inanimate objects from the Strangevirus, the most notable of these are a shiv that he keeps tucked into his sleeve, a throne from which he presides over his rare 'courts' in Strange square, and a longsword-equivalent that he calls "Excalibur." Strangely enough, Morgan doesn't believe in the notion of the Strangevirus.

The Shiv

The only thing that can truly be called Morgan's, the Shiv is Virus-forged. It is a small and long knife (somewhere between eight and thirteen centimeters in length, and from two to five in width) that flows in his grasp, moving almost of its own volition as he wields it. Since it is Virus-made, in a Strangehost, it doesn't cut. It cooperates with the Host to reform and reknit the wound as the blade passes through it, leaving not even a scar, but it certainly feels like being knifed. For those who aren't Strangehosts, however... it's an opportunity to become a Hemotopian- a rare form of "honor" in his view.

Hemotopians

Hemotopians are those who Morgan considers his elite cadre of individuals. Not all Strangehosts are Hemotopians; infected and obviously non-humanoid creatures are considered to be Beasts by him, and not really worthy of his wish. Morgan's opinion of Hemotopians was recently espoused with Sweet William's "redemption"- "It is the way of things. Be strong enough to stand alone against all comers, or fall forever." Morgan has little time for those who can't handle themselves or save themselves- he wants Hemotopians to be elite, to be dangerous, and to be *feared* by the rest of the Mess. Those who don't have what it takes don't deserve to be Hemotopians, and expulsion from the ranks is the worst punishment that he can think of.

History

Morgan has been thought to be an Up project detailing the nature of the Strangevirus, a Top loner who was suckered into it by his own pride, a Charmer whose curiousity got the better of him, a Downer whose love of brawls got to be a little too much, or a Bottomer who didn't take enough time to regard the nature of his partner. The answer is yes.

Comments

Feel free to comment! Even if it is, "You're a bastard!"

GrayZero glances towards Morgan. "Hail Emperor Norton I. Be sure not to wear the new clothes." --in Puzzle Park