#[muse:fergus malicer]

[disharmonicpaths]

► basics;

Full Name: Ferguson Kenzie Malicer Age: 35 Birthday: August 15 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Biromantic Relationship Status: In a Relationship, but the other person won’t acknowledge it. Alignment: Neutral Evil ► Chaotic Evil Occupation: Hunter/Engineer(Mad Scientist) Race: Human

► background;

Place of Birth:  Inverlochlarig, Scotland Hometown: St. Andrews, Scotland Education: Bachelor’s Degree ► physical;

Faceclaim: Iain De Caestecker Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Strawberry Blonde Height: 5′10 Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: Scars around his torso, various markings around his body, has one tattoo. One of the infamous anti-possession tattoos between his shoulder blades. 

► relatives;

Father’s Full Name: Mackenzie Fergus Malicer Mother’s Full Name: Brichtrede Marie Malicer (nee Aensland) Siblings: Caoilainn Malicer (vampire(feral), fc:Kiernan Shipka)[npc], Aodhan Malicer (Werewolf (feral), fc: Scott Michael Foster, [Open]), Grace Malicer(vampire, fc:Gabriella Wilde [open])

► relationships;

Ex-Significant Other(s): Penelope Ramos, (open for others) Current Significant Other: Priscilla Stone

► personality;

Positive Traits: + Determined, + Resourceful, + Protective, + Ambitious, +/- Blunt Negative Traits: - Obsessive, -Murderous, -Selfish, - Predatory

► bio;

TW: Murder, Poison, Abuse

Many times the stories would tell that he was the bad seed of the family. However, his family wasn’t a good one to begin with.

A father on the war path that followed the vigorous training of a Hunter. A mother that practiced her chemistry weapons against her own children. The unit was broken already when he came to the world. A brother turned into a werewolf when he was the tender age of four. The same age he watched his father shoot his kin in the head at the night of a full moon to solidify his vision. A sister who was left near a vampire nest on purpose, and how they had kept her alive to test their theories.  Until they found out they had been expecting the youngest of the Mercer clan. There was no remorse or guilt when Hannah had met the sunlight the next morning.

Fergus spent the most of his elementary school years buried in books to ignore the chaos that erupted around him. Or he was interrupted abruptly to start his own training on the subject on hand - eradication.

Another girl was bore to his parents as they had started to teach him the general façade of a sane person. They had named her, Grace. As ironic a name as they could have given her. The boy hadn’t attached himself to his sister’s presence yet after he had witnessed what happened to his older siblings at a young age. He knew without a doubt that he would fall in line to be next.

He had never gotten the concept of Hunter groups. Because his father made sure he had no moments of spare time to inquire about their practices. Instead he was strictly fed what his father wanted him to know, and how it should be executed.

No matter how smart he had become, it was never enough.  At the age of ten he had started to dismantle most firearms and reassemble them. Grace wasn’t his superior, but she was never far behind him. On his fifteenth birthday he was given an ultimatum along with his sister that would change their lives forever. One of them had to die, but his parents had decided to pit them against one another. Thus their wicked games would begin.

Grace killed their mother by injecting the food in the fridge with poison. It gave her great pleasure hovered over the woman as she died while she dangled the antidote a few inches from her face. Fergus had been out in the rural woods with their father to discuss the rules of poaching. While his father had his back turned, Fergus pointed the loaded gun and shot two bullets. One into the spine and one into the back of his father’s leg. The bullets were manufactured in a way that put his father in a vulnerable position, and it opted the boy’s more malicious size to take over.

With the parents out of their way, the two survivors took an oath. They would never kill the other, but both their minds were already compromised. That promise wouldn’t save their friends, acquaintances, loved ones, or even the common passerby. That day is when their tally started, and before they reached Ashbourne their tally had grown to the mid double digits each.

Fergus is the only one of the two to pursue and nurture the logical side of his brain. While Grace continued to crumble and snap those around him. He even graduated college and no one around him that had lived thought twice of him harboring the murderous thoughts that he did. It wasn’t until he got them alone and they saw that his furniture was coated in sadistic blood splattered plastic.  No species was safe from himself or Grace’s wrath.

The hunting rivalry continued through each place they called home, and even occurred when Fergus had enlisted in the military a few years in his early twenties. Fergus had started to challenge Grace with the people he kept close. Unwittingly to those chosen, he placed targets he knew she couldn’t beat at one to one combat. Grace had started to do the same, except her friends moved with the dark of night.

When he turned thirty, he had come home to his apartment covered in a mass of crimson. One of those casualties were Grace herself. At least…. That’s what he was meant to believe.

INTRODUCTION TO ASHBOURNE:

Fergus finished the day in the lab with a stoic expression. He had ventured home with his weapons placed strategically on is person. Most of the time at work he had a few vials of concoctions and a sharpened blade that would have taken him a few seconds to brandish. All seemed normal as his mind switched to hunter mode and scanned those around him. He pulled over near a bus stop and offered a charismatic smile at the transient sitting on the bus stop. “Lad. Do ye need a ride?” He called out friendly as ever. By no means did Fergus look to be a cold killer, and he was smug about it. Luck was on his side when the homeless person had ventured hesitantly closer to the car door. There in the dim street light had shown a picturesque family photo that swayed below the rear-view mirror.

“C’mon. No one should be out here in the cold. My wife would gut me if I left you out there.” Fergus soaked the words with fictional sugar. Enough so that the transient had started to open the door to the car. Until a figure blurred into movement and the shadow appeared behind him. A cruel bout of cold female giggles behind him. Pale hands moved out to crack the transient’s neck, and then Fergus laid his eyes on the one thing he had thought gone forever.

The kind façade dripped into pure ire, “Ye always were a sore loser sister.” Fergus hissed before he speedily drew out his gun to shoot at her. Of course, he had missed as she taunted him further away from the street lights. “You’ll never catch me Fergie. I’m freee.” Fergus left the car and grabbed the suitable tools to finish his sister once and for all. The man trudged further away from the gift of light as he shot into the darkness. The things his bullets stroke down were true, but he couldn’t see well enough.

“Listen here ye lil gormless git. Get out here now.” He growled finger on the trigger. “Shoulda known you were ginna do this.” The anger rant started, but soon even her tyrannical giggles ceased. All noise had stopped and then he realized the park he had ventured into was thicker. There was no car behind him. No stupid fake picture that swung across the dashboard. No dead hobo.

Something hit him like a freight truck and it most certainly wasn’t the hobo. Grace snarled down to him while the blood dropped off her chin onto his face. “Tag you’re it.” Her jugular was in his grip as he started to squeeze while she laughed at him. Finally, he was able to subdue her with the loud pop of her neck and thud of her body. One he held the knife in his hands that he aimed to carve into her. He glanced around in dismay. She was gone. Vanished into the thick fog around them.

“GRACE!” Fergus yelled as he felt the rage ignite in the core of his being. Calculatingly he moved forward at an even pace and listened to what was around him. He heard an unwelcomed thumping noise. Where was he? More importantly, where was Grace?

[disharmonicpaths]

@sierrashouseofhorrors

Through the scope of their toxic one sided relationship, he didn’t even know why he invited her along and for the life of him he didn’t understand why she had agreed. Perhaps it was the addiction to vampire blood she tried to hide from him on multiple occasions. Why didn’t she get that he made it his personal mission to stalk her? To know all the sordid details of her life, and no matter the worse things he found – he didn’t leave her be. In Fergus’s mind she was just as fucked up as he was. The only difference is he had to release that energy somewhere in the guise of hunting supernatural, and Percy? Well he wasn’t sure she released it at all.

Vegas. A place he never thought he’d see again when he got caught up in the web of magical hell that was Ashbourne. However, they had arrived a few nights before and everything was normal between them. They hooked up, they fought, they separated, and they awoke up the next day in the other’s bed at the hotel. The nest of vampires had been harder to find than he had originally anticipated. Fergus not only had to keep a clover eye on Percy, but found all the clues leading to dead ends.

This brings us to last night when he had finally decided to unravel with Percy at the hotel. Enjoy the Vegas scene, with lights and clubs. Dancing and gambling, but as he awoke the next morning the pain pounded between his eyes. Because after around the seventh venue his memory had slipped, and he didn’t recall anything after. He knew Percy was a soft sleeper so he tried to maneuver slowly and quietly. Until something lacy attacked his face and he coughed out a white veil from his mouth.

What the bloody hell?

They had been merely role playing that’s all. Fergus blinked his eyes open to concentrate on the back of Percy’s head and the veil that attacked him. The small detail bothered him and made him retract his arm that had been curled around her waist.  His fingers touched against her flesh but there was something different on his hand. He pulled his hand from the covers and stared wide-eyed at the flimsy aluminum ring around a finger it shouldn’t be on.

Nope, no. This was treading down a dangerous path. Maybe he was still partially drunk, and so he carefully climbed out of bed. His panic only escalated when his eyes glued down on a coupon. Fergus leaned down to retrieve the paper that was partly ripped. No doubt something he had flung haphazardly out of his pocket before they hit the bed.

Fergus jumped when he heard the bed squeak and turned to face Percy wide-eyed. “Do..Did we? Fook sake. Did we put a fookin’ ring on this? What the bloody hell happened last night?” He heard his voice raising even though he wasn’t really angry, just freaking out about his waking conditions. All the fooking veil’s fault. 

[disharmonicpaths]

Percy was already ready to call it quits with this asshole, if she was being completely honest. At least, that’s what she was thoroughly convinced and ready to tell herself, but when had she ever honestly been ready to quit Fergus completely. Sure, she was willing to mouth off and tell him to go fuck himself, but that hadn’t exactly stopped her from coming back. And besides all of that, this was a pretty useful skill to know, especially in a place like Ashbourne. She didn’t respond to his comment about her clothing, it was none of his concern what she decided to wear, and she didn’t expect shooting to be an extremely arduous task, besides.

Watching him set up had her stomach doing a strange flip, nerves settling impatiently there, waiting for something dreadful to happen, for something to take a turn. Perhaps she was waiting for her own face to become a target of that pistol that he loaded and walked over to her, and she sucked in a quick breath when it was handed to her, presented as if this was a completely normal thing and everything was completely fine.

She took the thing carefully, hand pointedly avoiding the trigger for a moment as she got used to the weight of the thing in her hand, testing it for a moment before she glanced over her shoulder at him. She wanted to point out that his cliched technique of positioning her from behind was a little much, but her nerves were still pretty shot about the whole thing, and he was already guiding her arms into the correct position. She felt her weight shift from foot to foot as she took aim with the thing and tried to line it up to that target perfectly, but the distraction of the weight of the thing, mixed with the distraction of Fergus using this opportunity to murmur in her ear, was enough to make a shiver shoot up her spine, to make her hand shake.

She forced her eyes closed for a moment, pulled in and then slowly let out a breath, lining the thing up as best she could, finger wrapping around that trigger without squeezing. Breath in, out, and then she squeezed, felt the recoil as it jerked her back a bit into the body of the man, and watched the bullet hit the bark of the tree several inches above the target. It was a jolt, surprising and uncomfortable, but that knot in her stomach loosened once the first shot had fired off. “Right, are you done man-handling me?” She finally managed in a shaky voice, using her elbow to nudge him back a bit. “This isn’t a gropefest, Fergus.”

Fergus convinced himself that she had all the ample time needed to leave him. Even when she took possession of the gun from him, it was a wide open forest for her to desert him. Whether she meant to or not it finalized in his mind that she wanted to be there with him. His mind could even delusionalize that she didn’t want to leave him. Priscilla was his girl, even though she may never admin to such a thing. In his brain until there was a bullet lodged into it, it’s what his obsessed self would think.

Fergus didn’t comment that he could almost feel the jitters that shook her nerves in waves. It’s how a civilian felt when they held the power in their hands for the first time. The inexperience game off her in waves. From how she dressed to practice shooting to how she held the gun. He could tell she had never been this vulnerable around him, with her knowing he was there. 

He would deny that he had seen her like this other times. Instead he was prepared for the recoil as his hands hold her hips planted into her spot. “Not bad for ye first shot.” Fergus muttered as he stared from behind her towards the tree.  At least he knew she wouldn’t be able to shoot him in the head the first try she got. 

By now he was used to her defenses. It was part of her allure, part of the challenge. He stepped in front of her and placed his hand a few inches above hers. Just in case she fired a shot it would hit his hand if anything. Fergus’s face was surprisingly serious as he lowered himself down to her eyelevel. Christ. He had forgotten how fookin’ short she was.

“I am tryin’ ta help ye, Perc.” The tone murmured as he rolled his eyes up towards the sky. “If ye would like ta grope me I would nay complain.” The seriousness dissolved with a flirtatious wink towards her. Even in this scenario he couldn’t help but to press her buttons. “But seriously how do ye feel? Do ye want ta try up closer to ta target?”  He had all but moved his face closer to hers. Words were wrapped in a whisper as he glanced around them to make sure the gunshot hadn’t brought any unwelcomed company. 

@sierrashouseofhorrors

[disharmonicpaths]

What's a conspiracy theory Fergus believes in and why?

Fergus believes in aliens 1000% completely.  Most of the thought patterns started as a child when his father would speak to him about the different monstrosities that walk the Earth. The Malicer bloodline had started with connections to Priests. However, by the time it reached young Fergus he was convinced that the demons and angels in tails were actual aliens that had found their way into our atmosphere.  He also has a belief that doppelgangers are also aliens from Earth’s moon.

If probed about it he has his own conspiracy theory that Apollo 11 was actually not an American ship that graced the moon, but was actually footage of the doppelgangers imitating astronauts they had already witnessed on Earth.