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| User: | dingowalkabout (301582) Old Man Morty
How ya goin? |
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| Name: | dingowalkabout | |||||||||
| E-mail: | ravenousgrue@gmail.com | |||||||||
| AOL IM: |  fnrgreyback (Add Buddy, Send Message) | |||||||||
| Bio: | Name: Morton Ferguson Nickname: Morty, Old Man, Dingo (to yanks only - his mates back in Australia bloody know he's a dingo). Age: 78 (Birthday, October 24th, 1930). Birthplace: Tennant Creek, Northern Territory, Australia Sex: Male. Occupation: Jack of All Trades, with a leanings towards manual labor and punching other blokes. Makes money doing odd jobs or stealing if necessary. Looking to become a bouncer at The Pit. Appearance: Morton is a massive man, topping out at 6'5" and broad as a football player. Intimidating is an appropriate word to describe him, though his stature often seems incongruous with his toothy grins. He has a bit of a slouch, rarely standing up completely straight unless he's posturing or trying to frighten someone. The big aussie dresses a bit like a biker, though he wouldn't know how to ride a motorbike if presented with one, sporting torn jeans, steel toed boots, and a leather jacket with a singlet underneath. Bathing and cleanliness aren't high on Morton's priority list, and these articles are often covered with a thin film of grime and dust. If one were to guess that he only had one outfit, they would be correct. His hair is coal black with a very slight curl, though you'd be hard pressed to notice it unless he's recently washed it (good luck with that). Morton leaves his facial hair scruffy, only vaguely maintaining a mustache and sideburns, and the rest of him is rather hairy as well. Perhaps the only charming characteristic the werewolf has are his eyes, which are a clear blue and frequently alight with mirth. As for scars, Morton is no stranger to them. He's been shot at, stabbed, bitten, burned, and suffered his fair share of silver-inflicted wounds. Though his clothes cover most of them in human form, as a dingo or in-between, his black-furred hide is riddled with scars, giving him a somewhat mangy appearance from a distance. Both dog and in-between forms have grey hairs around the muzzle, matching the smattering of grey at his temples. Personality: As gregarious as he is ferocious, Morton enjoys life at every opportunity. He's not the sort who worries about offending others, an attitude fostered by spending a majority of his life in Australia. Easy going and slow to anger, Morton is a joker at heart, and rarely takes anything seriously. Even when picking fights, it's all in good fun for Morton, even if his opponent is legitimately furious at him. A perfect evening for Morton would be to go to a pub, drink heavily, get into a brawl, and then have a beer with the bastard afterward. Bonus points if a sheila is impressed with his fighting and goes home with him. When Morton is roused to anger, his colorful language and easy laughter all but evaporate, leaving only a towering mass of, in his opinion, unstoppable rage. If he feels he has to prove his point, Morton will refuse to be budged no matter what. Despite this, he's relatively quick to forgive, as the aussie does not enjoy the idea of being a lone wolf. He likes people, even if they think he's a bit stinky and uncouth for their tastes. Morton is not especially smart. He's not an idiot, but he'd much rather leave 'smart' things to smarter blokes than himself, and does not take well to the idea of leadership. So long as he's not being maligned, Morton plays rather well with others, even though he has a tendency to start trouble when he gets bored. Because he's not much of a big thinker, Morton has trouble assimilating radically new concepts, and gets very frustrated when things drastically change. He likes things kept simple. Special abilities/talents: Morton is able to operate a manual transmission vehicle, and has a basic understanding of how to operate older construction and mining equipment. Supernatural Affinity: Species/Group: Therianthrope – Dingo. Dingoes are pack animals like most dogs, their major difference from wolves being their immediate appearance. They have sleek, wiry fur instead of the voluminous fur of their wolf cousins. Morton is happy to run with wolves, even if he stands out a bit in his animal form. Power(s): Usual therianthrope traits – extremely strong, fast, and heals quickly. Level: N/A. Affiliation/Rank: Part of the local pack. Preferred Prey: N/A. Morton isn't the least bit picky. History: Still considered largely untamed by man, the Northern Territory of Australia is a popular place for supernatural creatures. Weredingoes are no exception to the rule, and it was in this sometimes unbearable, harsh environment that Morton was born into. His pack were a slightly nomadic sort, but had settled down around the time he was born, right when the Tennant Creek gold rush started to boom. They settled in to the mining town and it finally seemed to stick. It was easy to get work then, and nobody seemed to think much of the somewhat feral behavior of their new miners. Boys would be boys, after all, and they were hard, strong workers. The older members of his pack still had difficulty adjusting to civilization, but Morton was lucky enough to grow up amongst humans. Rough and tumble humans, but it was a fair shake more civilized than kangaroos and crocodiles. By the time he was an adult, his pack had completely settled into Tennant Creek, happy to stay where work and resources were plentiful. Though they were survivors, not having to work so hard to do so was a welcome relief. Wanderlust started to plague Morton early, but it was frowned upon to leave the pack, so he stuck around for longer than he would've liked. He started to become something of a troublemaker, scaring locals, starting fights, and generally being a pain in the Alpha's ass. Things came to a head when Morton picked a fight with someone in the local pub and accidentally killed him in the ensuing scuffle. The Alpha, in no uncertain terms, informed Mortan that he'd best move on if he didn't want his troublesome ways corrected. Banished from his best mates and his family, he become a loner for awhile, and still recalls his packless days as being completely miserable. He did odd jobs, construction work and mining work, trying to find another pack to fall in with. Nothing seemed to quite fit, and in the early 90s he decided to try his luck in America. It was the land opportunity, after all, and the few yanks he'd met seemed like decent enough sorts. America was something of a slap in the face to Morton, and to this day he refuses to get into airplanes. The heavy industry and bustling lifestyle seemed alien to him, but he wasn't the sort to be so easily daunted. He kept wandering, kept taking up odd jobs, and ultimately, kept looking for a pack to fall into. Unfortunately, dingoes were not the most common creatures in the United States, and if anyone ended up seeing him, he had to move on. This wasn't terribly attractive to wolf packs, no matter if they liked him or not, and Morton was starting to wonder if he'd be a 'lone wolf' forever. Finally, though, completely on accident, he wound up in Mysteria. He wasn't sure why he'd been compelled to go, but he's completely glad he did. Morton's been in Mysteria for about a year now and so far hasn't completely pissed off the Alpha. In a pack and content with his lot in life, Morton is happy where he is, happy with his pack, and eager to enjoy his new home. Flaws: Speech Impediment: Morton's accent has remained largely undiluted during his stay in the States, and he frequently uses terms and slang that are completely alien to most Americans. He is often difficult to understand, and rarely pauses to explain. Overconfident: Morton thinks he's bloody fantastic (just ask him!), and seeing as he's lived for nearly eighty years, no young pup or otherwise is going to interrupt such a long winning streak. As such, Morton tends to dive head first into situations he really ought to back away from. He's also prone to biting off way more than he can chew, and has an infuriating habit of assuming everyone thinks he's great. Old Timer: Morton isn't good with new things, and all the new technology these days intimidates him. Things like ipods and cellphones are still bizarre to him, and to cover his ignorance and inability to understand them as well as younger people, he scoffs at them. Back in his day, they didn't need that sort of crap, and they got by just fine! He avoids using flash new gadgets whenever possible, and is extremely resistant to learning anything about them. His mindset might also be considered chauvinistic to modern women, and it can be something of a stumbling block if it doesn't come off as simply endearing instead of insulting. Merits: Garbage Disposal: Morton can eat nearly anything, raw or otherwise, and merrily digest it. His cast iron stomach hasn't yet met a food it didn't like. If Morton horks it up, you know it's bad. High Pain Tolerance: Since he's so frequently getting into scrapes, Morton can shrug off things that would drive most men to their knees. He definitely feels it later, but in the heat of the moment, Morton can push through nearly any sort of punishment. Sexual Orientation: Straight. | |||||||||
| Schools: | None listed | |||||||||
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| Mutual Friends: | 16: breaking_jade, deathangel_ryu, everylastsecond, evvil_goodgirl, leonine_roar, moon_called, mysteria_npc, mysterymechanic, newgirl, radiantdisaster, rat_trap, spreadmywings, thesetwohands, unseelie_glow, warriorheart, wayward_hunter | |||||||||
| Also Friend of: | 8: buoyant_beauty, intangiblewings, into_the_deep, rune_says, untamed_beauty, winged_heart, wordless_story, working_stiff | |||||||||
| Account type: | Free Patient | |||||||||
