Character Descriptions

Protagonist:
Luke Morrow is 44 years old. He speaks gruffly, like a big brown bear, believing this makes his tall, thin stature seem thicker and stronger. His face is long and thin, like his legs. His cheeks are deeply cut and droopy, like a bloodhound; otherwise, he is a very handsome man. His eyes are clear and green, even after 44 years of rough living. He keeps his dark, brown hair cut short. It is too thick and wavy to control. He has a lot of it, but only on his head. The rest of his body, his chest and legs and arms, grows a light coat of soft fur. Grey is spotted throughout. He runs his fingertips across the thick, caterpillar stripe that stretches across his stomach; a reminder when he knew what fed his passion and fought hard for it. He grabs at the air lightly, as if he could get a hold of passion’s gossamer wings, as if he could wrap his arms around Olivia once more. She was the gentle side of Luke Morrow. She has been gone for 5 years. There is no room in his heart for anyone else; often times not even himself.
Luke still has a deep, wet cough that comes from so many years of smoking, but this is slowly fading as time passes since he stopped the habit. He often wonders why he quit. He feels like he really wants to die. Life without Olivia is flat. It was flat before her, and it is even flatter now that she is gone


Antagonist:
Byron Bone is a complicated man with a simple plan. He is wide, soft and floppy, yet very, very strong. His strength comes from his insanity. As time passes, Byron grows more insane, more strong, and more eager to play out his plan. He quietly makes his way through the years, waiting for the right time.
The time has come. The day is ripe. The night would be riper, practically rotten. He can smell it. For Byron, it is sharp and metallic and cuts through his nostrils. He inhales deeply and his wide nostrils flop and flare. His ears are as wide as his nostrils, and the rest of his lunatic body. His need to feel comfortable in his floppy skin grows with his strength and insanity. So often he has been subject to ridicule, especially in childhood. Children can be the sweetest thing this world has to offer; and they can cut like a dull edged knife with their cruel honesty. Their insults still fly around his swarming mind. His eyes flit about and he won’t keep them still in the presence of other people. He doesn’t want anyone to see his dark, murky, brown power that floats in them. Someone could poke their finger in there and scoop some of it out. He has to keep it all for himself. He’s going to need it, very soon. He tilts his head to the side, listening to a far away rumble of thunder and smiles.