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[[Note: I do not own Morpheus. I don't think I'd WANT to, except for the making lotsa money thing. He, along with the Endless and their 'verse, belongs to Neil Gaiman. He's just for playing with for fun at beyondtherift. That's all.]]

Appearance: Dream’s appearance is not always uniform. In many ways, his form will change based on just who is perceiving him. Cats will see a cat with midnight black fur and burning eyes, when he meets them on his own terms. However, his usual appearance—his internal image of himself, if an idea can have a concept of itself—is of a slender young man. He is incredibly pale, and rather tall. He’s slender—with his elegance and grace, delicate almost comes to mind—and the planes of his face are rather harsh and forbidding. His hair is jet-black and usually extremely unruly. He dresses in all black—black of the bluish kind, because black often has a tinge of some shade, and with Morpheus it’s blue—usually something with a suitably dramatic flair: a leather trench coat, rich furs or silks; it all depends on when and where he is. He is, however, always dressed appropriately for the occasion, and if he isn’t, he will rectify it. In many ways, actually, he looks more like Death than Death herself. Really, the only thing that is stop-and-stare worthy about him is something that may take a moment to notice: where his eyes should be there is black, and if you’re looking just right, a star will wink at you. He probably has something of a high-class British accent when speaking English. Seize

Personality: Dream is a rather complex personality at the best of times. At the worst, he can be described rather simply as being “stupidest, most self-centered, appalingest excuse for an anthropomorphic personification on this plane or any other.” He has little to no sense of humor, and often needs to be told when someone’s made a joke. He has turned angsting into an art form, to the point of making the Dreaming have stormy weather for him to stand outside and brood in. He is often inconsiderate, only realizing later that perhaps he ought to have thought of someone else before himself. He is also quick to anger and slow to forgive, and has been known to condemn lovers who reject him to hell or to make people live in a nightmare generally they never wake from it or go mad. He is surprisingly passionate, for a guy who tends to say little and with little inflection. But his passion isn’t the hot, burning kind—that’s Desire’s realm. It’s that deep, dark, poet’s kind of feeling, the thin line between Desire and Despair, and easily tipped either way. Despite these faults, however, he is a good person… er, anthropomorphic personification in his own way. He has a deep sense of justice, having advised a friend in the days of slave trade that slavery was an abominable practice. He does care deeply about those close to him, and will go to great lengths to please them. Deeply conscious of his responsibilities, he puts them above anything, including his life. He always keeps his promises. And he is so noble it’s dangerous for his health. He may act like an ass, and be cruel and unthinking, but if someone he loves and respects tells him he’s been an idiot, he will go to any length to rectify the situation—down to journeying into hell. He also has something of an inability to deal with change.

History: Morpheus is one of the Endless, anthropomorphic personifications of ideas which keep the universe running. He is the third of seven siblings, and like them is about as old as the universe is, or at least as old as sentience is. His history is therefore millions of millennia long, and should perhaps be condensed a lot. So. He’s the king of dreams, the one who crafts dreams and keeps watch over them and keeps them from misbehaving, and who keeps the world of dreams safe, whole, and from adversely affecting humanity. That’s his duty. Notable incidents in his life are when he and Desire—his androgynous sibling—stopped being friends due to its influencing his then-current lover to leave him; when he condemned another lover, Nada, to hell for rejecting him; his arranging to meet a man named Hob Gadling every hundred years for a drink; giving William Shakespeare the inspiration to produce the plays he wrote; and seventy years ago he was locked up by a spell intended to entrap his big sister Death. While he was confined, the world was seriously affected: the Dreaming, his realm, began to disintegrate, and the nightmares and dreams left it or vanished, and humans would sleep and not wake up, or suffer from serious delusions brought on by the dreams running rampant. Morpheus only recently broke free, due to carelessness on the part of his jailers, and set off to recover the three tools he’d created and which had been stolen from him: a pouch of sand (he IS the Sandman, after all), his helm, and a ruby. Having only just returned to the barren, shrunken dreaming and his sole surviving servant Lucien, he had recovered his bag of sand with the help of a human named John Constantine. He was on his way down to Hell to recover his helm when, passing through the gap between the worlds, he was caught. Weakened by the loss of his tools and his long confinement, Dream had not realized just how little power he had until he was already caught by the Rift… and that’s where he now is. The Rift has left him seriously weakened and in need of some convalescence, as well as exactly no idea of just what is happening.

Player Info:
Lee
AIM: Chronicler Hahli
Email: leetrynace@gmail.com
MSN: above, @hotmail.com.

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