[color=9e0b0f][h2] Agent Morgan Daniels [/h2][/color]

[img]http://static.tvgcdn.net/mediabin/galleries/shows/g_l/li_lp/lipstickjungle/season2/lipstick-jungle62.jpg[/img]

[i]Nicknames:[/i] Daniels

[i]Gender:[/i] Male 

[i]Age:[/i] 35

[i]Sexuality:[/i] Not that he gets much time for romance, but Daniels prefers women.

[hider=Likes/Dislike][i]Likes:[/i] 

 - His job
 - Closing cases
 - Old paperbacks
 - Jazz fusion and the Blues
 - Old, brown liquor

[i]Dislikes:[/i] 

 - Disrespect
 - Criminals 
 - Alcoholics
 - Would-be tough guys[/hider]

[hider=Personality and Bio][i]Personality:[/i] Morgan has a fierce devotion to his job that can make him seem cold and distant at first meet, but once you get past his work ethic you'll find he's a calm, down to earth man.  Albeit one who has seen far too much of the handiwork of serial killers and violent criminals and knows he's bound to see more right up until retirement, so he may still keep you at arms length.  He generally prefers not to tread on toes, but if someone pushes him, he has no qualms in shoving them back with his authority.  
Typically, whatever it takes to get the job done.

[i]Biography:[/i] Morgan was born in Flint, Michigan to Barry and Rosa Daniels.  Two of the hardest working people he'd ever known.  It wouldn't exactly be unfair to have called the Daniels' poor.  His parents worked hard to keep the lights on and the table set, and as a consequence Morgan didn't get to spend much time with them.  It was hardly a unique story, with many of the kids on his street in the same boat.  They would race home from school on their second hand bicycles and do their chores at the speed of sound so they could take the last remaining shreds of sunlight to go and explore.  This is where Morgan derived his inquisitive nature, and knack for investigation.

His teenage years came by, and his parents seemed satisfied enough with his grades.  Their shifts got longer, and the meals got cheaper and Morgan couldn't help but notice that his dad was spending more money on beer and more time on the couch.  They never said it, but work was growing scarce for them and the other salt-of-the-earth folks in their neighborhood.  Crime was on the rise and things were just all around looking bad.  
Morgan doesn't claim to remember much of the years between age 11 and 16, but he recalls them being very negative.  His father slid all too comfortably into abusive alcoholism, and his mother grew only more and more shrewish as the yelling turned to beatings.
Morgan survived his father's wrath by sinking into his studies and excelling at track and field events, ignoring it like a coward.
"That's my boy," his father would slur from the couch, drowning out Johnny Carson's witty banter, "You're either gonna be an athlete or a scientist!"
It kept the man pleased until his mother placed food down on the table.  Heaven forbid the peas had mingled too much with the corn.  Sadly that was all it took to set him off these days.  All the while, he never even noticed the dark fire growing inside his son every time he saw that man clench his fists.

At age 18, Morgan graduated with high honors.  The first thing he did was apply for the Police Academy.  He was as shocked as anyone to learn that he got in.  He attacked his training with a tenacity seldom seen in the increasingly corrupt ranks of the Michigan police department.  Upon graduation he was placed back in Flint, where he could protect and serve his home town.  He was happy, his parents were proud of him.  He still knew his father was beating his mother.
It all culminated in the worst way when he was dispatched to a domestic violence call early one evening.  His stomach dropped to his feet when he heard the address.
It was the worst he'd ever seen the man do.  His mother was bleeding, cowering in the corner.  Morgan claims to have no recollection of what he did next, but his father spent the next two months in hospital.

Morgan was thankfully not fired, but was placed on administrative leave.  He used this spare time to take better care of his mother.  Her health was failing thanks to years of domestic abuse and chain smoking.  He loved her dearly, and he was shattered when she died.
He came back to work after his leave, but found he couldn't commit to it the way he once had.  He wanted to do more, he had to do more.  He applied for the Bureau.  Rejection.  He applied again.  Rejection.  He applied more times than he would care to admit.  Finally, he got the letter he had spent three years dreaming of.

Five years later, he received a call that his father was in hospital.  It would be his last chance to see the man.
"There he is," he croaked through the oxygen mask, "there's my boy."
Morgan could only stare back at the shriveled old bastard with contempt.  He couldn't even bring himself to say anything to him.  When he left that room, the doctor told him, "it was your fathers time to go.  There's nothing we could have done."
Only Morgan knew what happened in there, and he knew how to make it all look.  He was only sorry he hadn't done it sooner.  Too .  [i]I love you, mom.[/i]

The years continued to go by and he enjoyed a successful and fulfilling career as an FBI Agent.
His boss just slapped a heavy file on his desk, "You look like you could use a tan, Daniels."
His next assignment was taking him to a small town in Florida, Boca Diablo.[/hider]