Nathaniel Morse

Fanya Niasa
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About Nathaniel Morse

  • Rank
    Fresh Faced


    Jensen Ackles
  • AGE
  • RACE
    Half Sidhe (Dryad)/Half Southern Elf
  • JOB
    Fanya Niasa Recruiter
  • 'SHIP:
    New York, New York
    Fanya Niasa
    Nathaniel is able to pass as an altered Earth-Elf, changed by the Nevus, as a tall Southern Elf or a very short Light Elf. The only markers that point to his Sidhe heritage are often hidden by a subtle glamour. His auburn hair are actually very short stalks of wheat, and his chest is covered in a fine, green moss, and while he can envelope his whole form in an iron hard bark, the skin of his elbows and knees are forever covered by a light gray of bark.

    Nathaniel likes to keep his appearance neat and trim. His hair is short, and typically styled forward and spiked up at the front. His beard is kept trimmed close to stubble, as he detests letting it get long and unruly. For clothes he has two typical modes, work and relax. For work he is usually in a cotton button up, long sleeved shirt, dark slacks, and a pair of nice, but comfortable shoes. For relax, he can usually be found in a simple tee shirt, jeans, and work boots.
    There is a distinct reason that Nathaniel likes to keep what he wears for work and personal life separate. Each is a kind of uniform, when he puts the outfits on, his mind assumes the role appropriately. When at work, he still has a sense of humor, but his mind tends to be more focused, his guard up, and his eyes picking out details almost constantly. When not at work, and not in work attire, he finds it easier to joke, smile, and let his guard down. He doesn't really have a different personality in either setting, rather it is more a degree of intensity of certain traits from one mode to the other.

    Overall, Nathaniel is easy to get along with, but hard to get to know. He hasn't opened up about his life prior to crossing over, and will often change the subject if it is brought up.
    Iron Oak Stave - A stave from the Iron Oak his Father's family centered their lives around. Despite the Iron in the name, the stave is only wood. It has been prepared for use as a weapon, though in his father's culture they are also used for enchanting to give access to certain spell effects without needing to expend as much concentration and effort.
    Several sets of Silver Threaded clothes.
    Father: Oisin Morse; estranged when the Southern Elves crossed over. Nathaniel has yet to find him.
    Mother: Méadaigh; estranged even before the cross over. Nathaniel has not seen his mother for most of his life.


    -As a Half Sidhe, Nathaniel has an aversion to the use of Iron. While his aversion isn't as strong as that of a full Fae, he does feel weakened and sickened when in direct contact with it. The more diluted Iron is in a material, the less the effect is, but he feels it even in high quality steel.

    -Benefits: Nathaniel has access to a limited ability with glamours due to his Sidhe heritage. This allows him to alter the way something appears, the amount to which depends on how much effort is put in. Making slight, subtle changes takes very little effort, while extremely obvious changes take effort and concentration to shape and maintain.
    -Limitations: Nathaniel's glamours do not last very long without a strong anchor, his best work is done in concert with another magical construct to tie the glamour to, such as wards for a building or enchantments on equipment. The largest diameter he can affect is roughly one and a half his height, and he needs to be able to touch the object in question to set it in place. If the glamour isn't being maintained, it will fade away as the Sun rises over the horizon, giving the maximum time left alone for his glamour roughly a day.

    Animal Empathy
    -Benefits: With concentration, Nathaniel can feel the emotions of animals.
    -Limitations: Distance is the greatest factor in several ways. Physical distance weakens the 'feel' of the emotions, while emotional distance from the animal in question often provides more confusion about the animals emotional state. For the best read, Nathaniel needs to be both near the animal, and care about the creature.

    His Sidhe mother's nature as a dryad was tied directly to plant life. As such, Nathaniel has a close kinship to flora, and his magic mostly centers around it. Speed of any changes he pushes, distance from himself, and complexity of the change can all effect how much effort and concentration he needs to put into his plant manipulations. As he gains experience through the years, he will likely grow more powerful and learn new uses for his plant manipulations, though such will only happen if he finds a tutor able to help his power bloom. Though his power may grow on it's own, it can only be cultivated further with the guiding hand of a tutor, as the garden may grow, but is still more beautiful from the touch of the gardener.

    Bark Skin
    -Nathaniel can cause his skin to rapidly grow a bark covering, for protection. When the bark is grown, it is as hard and shock resistant as Brazilian ebony. While the bark is covering him, his mobility decreases significantly, and he can no longer run, jump, or dodge effectively. He can use this in conjunction with thorn skin with a commensurate increase in concentration.
    Thorn Skin
    -Nathaniel can also cause his skin to grow thorns that have a surprisingly high number of uses. If he wants to deal with the pain, he can even draw them out of himself, which he typically only does if he is making arrows of his own, to stay away from using iron in arrowheads.
    Plant Meld
    -Nathaniel can meld with local plant life so long as there is enough mass around him to hide his mass. Doing this is excellent for hiding himself, though he cannot hide others in the same way.
    From his father, an Elf from the group that became Southern Elves when they crossed over, Nathaniel learned to use weapons. The aspect of his mother, however, has him reticent to use bladed weapons.

    Weapons Skills:
    Staves: Advanced
    Bow: Intermediate
    Nathaniel was born across the veil from Earth. His parents had a single tryst, Elf and Dryad, and from that came the seed that bloomed into Nathaniel Morse.

    Nathaniel grew up under the leaves of his Father's tribal tree, an Iron Oak that held the homes of his extended family. His Father saw to his training, and Nathaniel saw excellent advances in weapon use under the tutelage of his Father, though he showed utterly no affinity for the famed Elven blades his Father's tribe favored.

    His magic was another story, there were no nature mages in the tribe Oisin Morse was part of, a few devoted to other elements, and a couple of adepts able to enhance themselves with magic, but no one able to help guide the young halfelf into the blossoming power he held over flora. As he grew, and his power continued to blossom, he needed to find a tutor. He found such a tutor in an ancient Ent that had rooted itself not too far from the Iron Oak that Nathaniel grew up within. The Ent taught Nathaniel how to bind with plant life, and shared many memories with Nathaniel through just such a bond.

    When the Nevus rent the skies over Earth, Nathaniel ended up being one of the veil dwellers to be unceremoniously dumped onto a new land. Nathaniel seems to be the only member of his Father's tribe to have made the crossing, and his Entish tutor has likewise not been found within Nathaniel's searching gaze, leaving the young halfelf truly alone in the new world, trying to make his way.

    On Earth, he found welcome in the Vail Alliance, Fanya Niasa. His ability to pass very easily for an elf of indeterminate heritage, altered by the nevus rather than born across the veil, allowed him to become a recruiter for the faction, and unofficial eyes and ears in New York.

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  • Role Play Sample
    Nathaniel opened his eyes, and his mind was jarred by the fact that he gazed upon nasty florescent lights that illuminated a bare gray room. He picked up his hand to wipe the sleep from his face. His hand stopped with the light jangle of chain. At that moment he also noticed a growing unease in his stomach, marking the cuff on his hand as iron. He let his chin drop to his chest, and eyed the far too chipper looking suit across from him, just grinning behind a cup of coffee. Nathaniel remained silent, but raised an auburn eyebrow.

    "I'd have brought something for you, but I couldn't decide if it should be coffee or just some leaves in water pretending to be a drink." The man's accent placed him as having grown up in the heartwood of Boston. He put his cup down, and sat forward.

    "I guess you're not a tea drinker..." Nathaniel replied as he sat up fully, placing his arms on the table as best he could despite the cuffs.

    "Yeah, can't stand the stuff." The guy watched Nathaniel for a few heartbeats. In that time Nathaniel was able to clear his head and notice a few things. The lights overhead were dated, and hung below the ceiling. The paint on the walls still smelled fairly fresh. The suit across from him looked legit, and the table was bolted to the concrete floor. The cuff on his wrist was real enough too.

    "It isn't for everyone." Nathaniel said amiably, then resumed his silence. He knew a few things from his observations. He wasn't at a law enforcement agency, even if the mook he was talking to was law enforcement. That didn't mean he wasn't in trouble, but it meant he didn't need to worry about keeping kiddie gloves on.

    "You know why you're here?" The mook sipped his coffee again.

    "Not even sure where here is, but from my oh so fashionable accessory..." Nathaniel jangled his cuff, "...I'd say because you can't seem to find willing companionship." He kept his voice pleasant, and his smile never faltered, but Nathaniel could see the creases at the corner of the mook's eyes deepen, and his nostrils flare.

    "I see yer mouth is as dirty as you are."

    "And I see why you resort to chaining your conversation partners." Nathaniel chuckled. Behind the mask he was putting on, he was reaching out. The concrete beneath him was cracked where it touched the earth beneath. He instructed the plant life nearby to grow up into it, pushing inexorably higher, beneath the mook's chair.

    "You know..." Nathaniel said, forestalling the suit from speaking again. "...the movie Hook had one thing right. Whenever someone says that they don't believe in faeries, somewhere a faerie falls down and writhes on the floor." Nathaniel's smile grew a bit vicious. "Only it's because they're dying of laughter, not because what you mooks think matters."

    His nostrils flared as he pushed harder, he had to keep the guy talking while his plants worked, then he would have the upper hand and be able to get some answers.
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