#c: cathair fergusson

[corcnach]

{sam heughan, 45, cis-male, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, CATHAIR FERGUSSON of SCOTLAND! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are NURTURING and STRONG-WILLED enough to handle it. Just don’t let your PROTECTIVENESS bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out you're cooperating with foreign rebels in order to abolish the scottish monarchy

b a s i c s //

birth name: cathair fergusson

birthday: june 13th

occupation: scottish soldier / fergusson clan head assassin

orientation: demiromatic - demisexual

status: married to tbd

languages: scottish gaelic (native), english (native), arabic (fluent), russian (conversational), french (conversational), spanish (intermediate beginner).

character influences: orochimaru (naruto), russell lightbourne (the 100), hap/dr. percy (the o.a), milton brandt/whispers (sense8), elijah mikkaelson (tvd/to/legacies).

tarot card: death

p r o l o g u e // murder tw, torture tw, blood tw

whether the first-born child of alexander fergusson and his wife was created out of love or hate, many would never know. in a home that was neither warm nor cold, he grew up, perhaps, the least privileged of every boy born to them. for fifteen years, he lived and worked simply under his father's guiding hand on a farm of their owning. whispers of rebellion came in and went out, he had never paid much attention then, more worried about the cows and horses in the paddocks and barns and keeping the younger fergussons out of trouble to pay attention to politics. that was until one day when the stuarts took everything from them - including their true identities. the stripping of all that he had known, while uncomfortable, was not what brought strife upon him. no, that would come in the dead of night when his father roused him from his makeshift bed surrounded by a puddle of red-headed children searching for safety and warmth and made him follow him with a knife in hand. his father had announced to many that he was, in fact, the new chief of the fergusson clan but with demanded proof, his father had fallen desperate. at fifteen, he found himself torturing a poor older man for a simple sheet of paper; a birth record, forged, and blood-stained. life felt strange, after that - he went from sleeping on hard ground, surrounded by his younger brothers to soft beds, lavish parties, and forced studies. however, something else changed, something deeper and more complex; he'd learned that people who held power over others could gain what they wished, more so, he learned that violence was the most effective way of persuading those to give him just that.

p r e s e n t d a y //

In whispers among the high courts of europe, africa, and northern asia, the name 'coronach' is a well-kept secret. monarchs in need of a closed mouth; nobles wishing to marry for love; or simply a scorned lover looking for revenge - it is said that, if the price is right, this faceless person will do anything asked of them. many think of them as a ruthless, uncaring man, but the truth would shock them if ever they knew; coronach was a simple man, a warm husband, a doting father, and a protective older brother. while being known as a strong soldier with an offstandish air and a cautious manner, he was the chief of a well-decorated clan inherited from a passionate father, surrounded by thriving siblings raised under his guidance who loved him just as fiercely as he fought for them. though, those in his real life would also look upon him with shock if they ever found out his secret; he would do anything to keep them and their legacy safe, even if it meant that his hands were covered in the blood of many.

c o n n e c t i o n s //

unknown fergusson (spouse) - tbd

cailean fergusson (youngest sibling) - tbd

w a n t e d c o n n e c t i o n s //

spouse (romantic) - cathair's love is quiet. it manifests in protection and secrecy that isn't always well intentioned. many would describe this person as strong for being left to their own devices most of the time or for marrying a man of such a personality as cathair's. outwardly cruel and standoffish, inside their home, when he isn't away, he is a doting father and attentive husband, even if his heart is a bit distant and his hand, strict. their children are 5 & 8 and are starting to ask questions neither of them want to answer. there is tension within their marriage surrounding his job but as long as they sweep it under the rug, their relationship is relatively harmonious.

past/current hires (political) - whether monarchs or civilians, these people are the people who want cathair's sword for purposes of murder, torture, etc. if they pay a good fee, cathair is willing to do whatever they ask of him as long as insurances of his family's safety can be promised.

coronach members/spies/fall guys (political) - these people are those who work under cathair's alias, coronach, so that he can never be made by people who have hired him before. aligned with the scottish rebellion, they are a smaller more ruthless branch and their true loyalties lay with cathair. although their name is scottish in origin, members of this pathway of spies/assassins are of different origins, making the true face of this branch unknown.

[succiducus]

a dependent multi-muse blog for theopulenthq. written by ateş , utc+300 , he/they.

GENERAL NAVIGATION:

act i: lal qila / act ii: ethiopia / act iii: brazil - thread tracker - wanted connections

ROSTAM SELIM ABDUL-QAJAR SHAH of THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE (şükrü özyıldız)

threads / sir khan (✝) / rossariyan / rightful & regent / meet the abdul - qajars

thread count: 4/8

EMPEROR MUNJAL BHATI of THE MUGHAL EMPIRE (ranveer singh)

threads / with parvati / meet the bhati's

thread count: 3/3

KING RAFAEL JAMES RATSIFI of MADAGASCAR (michael ealy) **intro coming soon

threads / rafdrika / meet the ratsifis

thread count: 1/3

LORD ULRICH 'JOHANNES' SIGURDSSON of NORWAY (phillip froissant)

threads / nellrich / meet the sigurdssons

thread count: 4/4

ADVISOR MURAT ABDULLAH MACKENZIE of SCOTLAND (uraz kaygılaroğlu)

threads / caildullah / meet the mackenzies

thread count: 3/5

SIR CATHAIR FRASER FERGUSSON of SCOTLAND (sam heughan) ** intro coming soon

threads / meet the fergussons

thread count: 2/3

[succiducus]

the king's answer intrigues him. it's that emotion that has him plopping himself down gracelessly, his boots hitting the table between them, in a chair opposite alexander. "ah, i'm not the the picky sort, my king - anything at all would do. not all in our court have the privilege of plentiful libraries, the more that i know, the more i can pass onto them - for example, what is the last book you've read?"

He seemed like a man of few words and Alexander didn't mind that, if it weren't for the strange feeling that the man seemed to be testing him, he would have even gone as far as inviting them to join him but he suspected that there'd be some resistance there and he wasn't in the mood to press it further. "Well that would depend on what your tastes are -- what do you enjoy? Usually that translates to what you'd like to read about."

[succiducus]

a dependent multi-muse blog for theopulenthq. written by ateş , utc+300 , he/they.

agha rostam qajar (آقا رستم قاجار) ~ king of persia / regent sultan of turkey

munjal bhati - ruler of the mughal empire

rafael ratsifi - spouse to the ruler of madagascar

advisor abdullah mackenzie- scottish royal advisor / duke-in-training

lord ulrich sugirdsson - eldest sugirdsson of norway

sir cathair fergusson - head of fergusson clan of scotland

fcs: şükrü özyıldız, ranveer singh, uraz kaygılaroğlu, philip froissant, sam heughan. (thread tracker / wanted connections)

[succiducus]

cathair grins. "no, ma'am, not to the aid - i simply wouldn't want you and your english friends to drink yourselves back into the borders of scotland again. that's all. really." it's a jest, mostly, even if it hints with a truth that she, perhaps, wouldn't notice deep in drink. an almost genuine noise of laughter echoes in his chest, bubbling from his stomach. 'a man of his standing?' had she mistaken him for another? it makes him chuckle further, shaking his head free of the thought and reigning in control. "i am no such man to the know the ways of entertainment in this land, lass - perhaps, conversation could be the diversion instead."

The Redhead regarded The Scott with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, her sharp wit immediately coming to the forefront. "Ah, monsieur, ever the master of hyperbole," she remarked, her tone light but edged with playful sarcasm. "I assure you, I can handle more than a mere illusion of oceans in deserts. But I do appreciate your concern for my well-being."

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s quite noble of you to come to the aid of a poor, beleaguered Frenchwoman in distress. Though I must admit, I was hoping for a challenge rather than a lecture on the dangers of stronger spirits." Célestine let out a soft chuckle, her demeanor both charming and self-assured. "However, I do appreciate your honesty. Perhaps, instead of stronger drink, you could recommend a different sort of diversion? Surely a man of your standing has some intriguing suggestions for entertainment in a place like this."

[corcnach]

eyebrows lift; in empathy, his heart finds relief. cathair was a silent observer in his siblings lives; despite acting as their fists or a heavy hand in their youth, he had always set out to be their backbone instead. knowing who they were associated with was easily done by word of mouth or personal introduction, however, knowing their hearts was where he thrived; he worried that cailean would betray him own with the fear that a reckless man had instilled in them. "aye, ma'am, they have good qualities that many would be lucky to know intimately." the brother says. "where did you two meet?"

" well, odd to me — i suppose to other people they are not. " she admitted with a short laugh. aurora smiled as they seemed to relax a bit, no longer thinking she was some sort of threat to him or his daughter. " it's a pleasure to meet you too, " the princess assured, but then — the question took her by surprise, and for a moment she looked puzzled; until she understood what he meant. " oh, heavens no! " aurora exclaimed, " no, no — cailean truly is a dear friend of mine. there is no romance there, i assure you. " aurora nervously laughed, shaking her head. " not that cailean isn't wonderful and i'm sure someone out there is lucky to have them, but our friendship is only that. they were there for me when . . . when things were dark, and i supposed we formed a deep bond because of that. "

aurora didn't suppose. she knew that was the case. they had met when she was at her lowest and they the same —aurora and cailean kept each other going, even when it felt hopeless to. they were the reason aurora's light had not died out.

[succiducus]

under the guise of protective eldest brother and clan head, cathair stalks the palace hallways, listening to conversations, making allies in secluded corners, and planning his next move against the crown. on his way to the scottish palace as songbirds begin to warble and sing their tunes of harmony, he's caught off-guard by a voice in questioning. the man's eyes wander to it's owner and his heart sinks into his stomach. "no, your majesty," he speaks with a tone bitter in nature yet pleasant enough to hide it. 'not here with you', he thought. "do you not believe it foolish to be without your guard in a foreign castle, my king?"

open starter ╱ national norway day celebration. status: accepting replies

The thrill of the numerous dances had already passed, and most candles had been blown out. Plenty of people had already left, and Faolan finally could enjoy himself: the silent night was inviting in a way the company of others could rarely be. He sat down in a corner, observing the stars, coat already off. He drank a bit of wine and looked over to a bystander, bowing his head slightly. "I think now it's time to wind down, no? Do you drink?"

[succiducus]

although cautious, cathair wasn't one to shy away from entertaining conversations of the wealthy. "a worthy expense at the expense of their people, i say." the man mocks quietly with a chuckle. "monarchs, whether in their empires or not, are mostly absent - the only difference, one is in physicality and the other is of mind. many would hope their rulers to be traveling than to be plotting and scheming with their tax." cathair's arm outstretches in greeting. "cathair fergusson. i don't believe we've met."

Hisashi cannot suppress his laugh at Cathair's statement. A reminder of just how ridiculous the pomp which surrounds them is. "Yes this one is rather more tasteful. The sentiment may be no difference, and excuse to spend vast amounts of wealth posturing and scheming, whilst accidentally proving that the royals can be absent from their own countries for vast periods of time without their citizens even noticing their absence... but peace is a much more respectable pursuit to do it in the name of."

[succiducus]

END.

Had they still been young and full of unbashful youth, stuck alone in the unfamiliar palace they called home, yet always feeling like an ill-fitting shoe to Cailean, they would have turned and wrapped their arms around their brother. They would have buried their face in the crook of his neck, asking for his protection, begging him for guidance. However, they were far away from home, and they daren’t show any sign of weakness in front of the royals, who were already grasping at straws while looking for the person who would be the perfect villain in this story of theirs.

“Aye, I ken ye’re right. I ken it’s not my sole responsibility; I didnae start this after all, but…” They captured their lower lip between their teeth, biting down on it until the taste of iron hit their tongue. “It doesnae matter. They will not be in charge for much longer. I have a feelin’ we have to be prepared for somethin’ to happen when we arrive in Brazil. When it does, we will be fine, we have friends who will have our backs when things turn sour.” Cailean’s eyes flickered between the guests who were oblivious to their conversation, all too busy overindulging to notice them. The anger within them burned as bright as the sun itself, yet after a decade of practice, they managed to swallow their anger down and the corner of their lips raised into a mirthless smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “We should get ready; it is goin’ to be a long journey, and I cannae imagine how tiresome travellin’ with these monarchs is goin’ to be.”

[corcnach]

a queen sits alone in her sorrows; he remains hidden in the shadows, light eyes eerily still on her in surveillance. admittedly, cathair was surprised by such an outburst in the jury hall, he hadn't known many monarchs had the ability for violence of that intensity. a chuckle sticks to his throat, he finds himself sitting next winifred without invitation. "on the contrary, ma'am." cathair interjects without pleasantries or titles but the grin on his lips is genuine. "one might say that after such tragic happenings, indulging in the sweeter experiences of existence is noble or adaptive." his grin widens. "you did, after-all, just lose one of your own, i'd say hot cocoa is a far better coping mechanism than drink, wouldn't you agree?"

open starter with: winifred and anyone! location: café do paço time: early evening

Winifred sat, pale-faced aside from some well-placed rouge, her nails bitten down as far as they could go. A cup of cocoa sat in front of her, only a few sips taken, and any heat that it once held had long since disappeared. The idea that a soldier from Cardiff had not only been implicated in the Reckoning, but was assassinated? It was horrible. And that wasn’t even considering those damn letters. Millions of questions raced in her mind as she stared blankly into the courtyard. Was there something she could have done to prevent it? Is it possible her brother was at all attached to Kaiden- or could Kaiden have had something to do with her brother’s death? And at top of her mind: could she, as the ruler of Cardiff, be implicated in any of this? Was there a chance she’d lose her head? Was someone coming for her, and could she suffer the same fate as Carwyn?

Her train of thought was promptly derailed by another sitting next to her. She jumped at the sound and forced out a self-deprecating laugh. “You’ve caught me rather wrapped up in my own thoughts,” she said, clearing her throat and throwing on a more welcoming expression. She lifted the cup of cocoa to her lips, fighting the urge to recoil at its unexpected tepidness. “Feels a bit morbid to be enjoying something so sweet, after such a horrible event. But perhaps we deserve a little sweetness, now more than ever, no?" She hummed to herself and nodded in agreement to her own statement. "I think we deserve it.” Her tone was flirtatious, for some reason. Perhaps it was her shield of choice, tonight. After all, it was hard to talk about “feelings” when the lips were otherwise occupied.

[succiducus]

unlike in the gardens of ethiopia were tensions were high and people were on their best behaviours, cathair was enjoying the direction that both their journey to and their time spent in brazil was going in. a dead monarch; a tribunal; the admirable faces and names of people working for a similar cause as their father once had in different nations - it was astoundingly exciting for the clan head. what proved more exciting was coming upon the scene of a skilled hand and trained eye thrashing sword in the military yard. cathair's speculative gaze is quiet, his body leaned against the solid stone of a high wall until the person in question turns their attention from training toward him. "you're a master of the sword," cathair sends an amused gaze in their direction. "i'd lose against such a practiced hand, i'm afraid - though, my father often spoke to challenging those with talent mightier than mine."

closed starter: julian wechsler, any muse of your choice! / @espionisms @succiducus @monarhrh not a group thread

location: the military yards

though his life now involved diplomacy, genjirou cannot shake the habits his father instilled on the ships they sailed together. sword lessons on the decks, moving the fight as the waves rocked the boat, were long, arduous. but for all of his father's sins, the swords gifted served him well through the years. it is one now, hilt engraved with the sakiyama name, that genjirou wields with the sturdiness of a practiced hand. he only notices an audience at the last stroke.

"ah, i apologize for taking up the space. i'm about done." he sheathes the sword, placing it on a nearby bench. "though, if you need a sparring partner, i still have energy to spend."

[corcnach]

cathair had never been in prison albeit coming close many times. in lands foreign to his own, rules and regulations that did not adhere to his missions were disregarded purposefully. the eldest fergusson was his father's son, after-all - he had a knack for persuading the masses of facts that were truthfully fiction. though unlike him, he ensured nothing could be traced back to his daughter. holding up the stolen keys at eye level, "anything?" the scot questions, his grin widening.

In any other situation Hisashi would have a smart reply, something clever and cutting which made it seem as if he cared about nothing and no one. Not here. Not with all the memories this place evoked.

"I know how fruitless it is." Hisashi said bitterly. "But at least last time I was imprisoned for a crime I had actually committed, following a trial with evidence." He sounded small, "I can't be in here. Not again. Toes be damned. I'll do whatever it takes to get out."

[corcnach]

inherited from his father and instilled in his younger brothers, resentment ran through their blood. whether it was the same as their father's or different, the emotion would eventually rear its ugly head and wreak havoc in their lives at least once. at first, he'd been under the impression that he was doing them all a favour by teaching them such lessons. however, the more that he aged and saw his father for who he was, with his faults and his good intentions, cathair had come to realize that he'd made a mistake; one that couldn't be undone easily. more a father to them than alexander, the youngest of their clan had taught him more about himself than he'd expected. "ah yes - i've met many of these friends." cathair taunts, wishing to protest the distance between him and his daughter - it falls silent on his lips. "naive french princess by the name of...." he sends a puzzled look in his sibling's direction, waiting for cailean to finish his sentence as a precaution.

It was an impossible task to contain their grin when Cathair mentioned their tactics during their youth. They had been a terror, much like their niece. Perhaps if not for Cathair, they wouldn’t have dared to attempt the mischief they did. Not because he encouraged it, but because Cailean always knew that no matter what, Cathair would never turn his back on them. Because of him, they had the freedom to test their limits and, in turn, their brother’s patience. However, their smile faltered when he mentioned their friend.

To the dismay of the child, Cailean picked her up off their shoulder, and placed her on the ground beside them before fishing out coins from their pocket and handing them to her. “Here ye go, lass. Go and buy us all hot chocolate. We will be right behind ye, and make sure yer da’s is covered in cream and sweetness. He needs to sweeten up his life, don’t ye agree?” Thrilled by her sudden responsibility, the girl took the offered money and ran ahead. “I have been known to make a friend or two,” they told him once she was out of earshot, their words carefully chosen. What friend was he speaking of? At first, the only person who came to mind was the man sharing their bed, Abby… But Cathair knew him, knew of their friendship even if he did not know how deep it ran. It couldn’t be him. “And who is this friend of mine who ye disapprove of?”

[corcnach]

cathair has every intention to stay on the opposite side of the door as a young scottish soldier leaves through it. however, the crashing of inkpot and the clatter of pens catches his attention much more than his own knowledge of what had led cailean into such frustration. "what has the ink pot done to earn your nastiness?" cathair teases, moving forward into cailean's space, the squelch of ink under his boots, unnoticed. "ill timing for the lad to croak. i reckon if more deaths occur under the de alcantara's noses, the heads of other monarchs and the occupiers of their courts will start to turn toward them in suspicion. as for kaiden, i apologize for your loss. i understand that you two were...well, close." from the inside of his jacket, he pulls a stack of letters addressed to cailean, outstretching his hand toward them. crimson speckles on the off-white of envelopes hadn't caught his attention until now, in the dim candle-light, cathair pretends not to notice. "i nicked these from the morgue, i thought you'd like for the contents of such things to be kept quiet."

To: Cailean & Cathair (@succiducus)

“He’s dead?” With their head bowed and fists clenched, Cailean trembled. Was it fear? Anger? “Was it sickness?” The young soldier shook his head once. “No, sir. They’re sayin’ it was murder.” The silence stretched on for a moment longer. “Leave me be.” Once alone, a surge of anger and frustration welled within them, and before they could rein it in, their hand lashed out. Papers, quills, and an old inkpot went flying as they swiped everything off the table. The sound of the inkpot shattering filled the room, and pitch-black ink spread across the stone floor like the night sky. Cailean stood there for a moment, their chest heaving. Were they angry because the man was dead, or were they angry because they had not been the one to take his life? When the door creaked open, Cailean felt their face burn with embarrassment. They hadn’t lashed out like this since they were an unruly child. “Didnae I tell ye to leave me be?” Cailean turned, only to stand face to face with their brother. Their heart sank, and the fire within them quelled. “Cathair…”

[succiducus]

cathair chuckles, straightening himself out and taking a couple of steps away from the other. much like eliana and much unlike her, cathair had not left scotland since the birth of his first child; still, trying to connect name and face also fails him. "aye, a sight, indeed - it may give them something more to occupy their clearly idle minds if crumbs are worth kissing the earth for." light eyes gaze upon the assortment. he tilts his head. "you have my thanks in return, for not breaking this plate over my head for not watching where i was walking - i'd say, you choose for me."

relief lines her shoulders. lack of anger is always a good sign, and she's glad for the lack of scene caused by her misstep. her gaze roams the other's, trying to place a name to the face. a useless endeavor, given her lack of travels and chile's limited reach until recently, but her curiosity sparks nonetheless.

a soft chuckle then, amusement dancing on her lips. "a sight it would be to see beasts of the more human form on their hands and knees for these crumbs." she lifts the plate; the assortment remains mostly unharmed, crumbs and all. "i thank you for preventing a worse fate for me than embarrassment. choose one to your liking, i insist."

[succiducus]

"aye," cathair nods; the land itself was not at fault for the failings of countless monarchies - in it's own way, ethiopia, much like the people of scotland, was held prisoner by those who feigned understanding of what it meant to care for such beauty. "the beauty of such a place is unmistakable. a shame we'll be setting sail soon, isn't it, my king?" the eldest fergusson's eyes are watchful on alexander. "ah, i suppose i should let you get to your reading - any recommendations?"

"Well like you said, the general purpose of a library is to read is it not? Even a King sometimes seeks out moments of quiet not dissimilar to you, though I don't have a child competing for my attention," he said, not giving much away to the other Scot and remaining pretty stoic determined to keep Aurora and knowledge of the french princess away from him as well. "Are you enjoying our time in Ethiopia?"