Fergus Malicer

@penxramos

As the other man lowered his weapon, Carrington slowly lowered his arms. He was unarmed, obviously, but not defenseless. Though any physical brawling might not be up to par, all things considered. But he wasn’t about to die here, in some godforsaken forest in the middle of nowhere. He would die as he chose to. Though considering his circumstances, that didn’t seem to be working out for him very well. 

“’And all the devil’s are here,’ hm?” Carrington huffed. He could believe it. Though he knew the man’s comment wasn’t meant to be taken literally. Most likely at least. The gun was holstered, which made Carrington a bit less jumpy that he might get shot accidentally. 

Though as the stranger explained exactly what this place was, he regretted his own earlier comment. Taking it with a grain of salt, however, Carrington stood his ground as the man approached. “So you’re telling me that there’s a town here. This… Ashbourne? That exists… in the aether somewhere? And it’s full of monsters?” His gaze traveled over the man’s appearance. “You’re not a vamp. And no witch I’ve ever met would use a gun. So what’s that make you?” Human, perhaps. “Maybe they need to be careful,” Carrington muttered irritably. 

As for his injuries, other than the apparent ones, he knew he had some busted ribs. Though anything more serious could wait until he found someplace to hole up for a few days and heal. “Ribs are a bit sore. But I’ll live.” 

“Oi, ye got t’at right. Had an episode wit’ a fookin’ Hellhound ta ot’er day.” Fergus grumbled with a distasteful scrunch of his nose.  He hadn’t picked up on the fact that Carrington might have some doubts, but it wouldn’t have mattered much. Any logical person would have their doubts about this place for sure. He was used to the supernatural when he was spat into this place, but he didn’t really have an issue with the not being able to leave part.

Fergus had decided to remain optimistic about this piece of information, because it left him his own personal hunting ground. That is until other people like him surfaced. Some in the forms of kindred killers, and others not so much. Some felt the hunt was retribution for an old wrong doing. He patiently listened to the other man and nodded his head. “T’at is what I’m saying exactly. “ The next set of words were knowledgeable which meant he could have either stumbled onto a new creature or one like himself.

“Gun dinnae give it away?” Fergus questions suspiciously, but he isn’t sure he wants to just go out and say it. Then again what did he really have to lose here? “Hunter for ta most part.” He shrugged and watched the other man’s face closely.

“Oi, t’ey really are not careful.” Fergus chuckled more at himself than the comment. He was one to talk considering almost every other time he was being manhandled by some supernatural floozy. “Fookin’ eh, did ye hit a tree when ye fell in?” Fergus couldn’t quiet himself in time before the question oozed out.

He was good at stalling right? No. The truth was he was quite terrible at it. Awkwardly he had arrived at the school a bit too early to meet Vivienne so he slipped into the classroom. The ginger male tried to be inconspicuous as he fell into the chair behind the teacher’s desk.  Most of the students stared at him from  what he could only assume were quizzes in front of them. 

“Do nay look at me. T’ats one way ta fookin’ fail.” Fergus mused with a chuckle, but what was odd was Vivienne wasn’t in the classroom. She must have stepped away briefly, which meant he could play a game. “Anyone want ta tell me the answer to..” He trails off as he stared at the quiz. Not much of his style, instead he stood up and started to long hand write out a mathematical puzzle.

Once he turned around and saw their blank faces he blinked some. “Tis quite easy. Why are ye lookin at me like t’at?” Fergus narrowed his eyes and let out a breath of relief as Vivienne came from the room. “Tough crowd. I’m early.” He muttered and tried to not stare at the long handed cryptic math problem he had drawn across the whiteboard.

@percystone

Darcy shrugged, “Maybe, I just don’t have any self respect.” She said it like a joke although it was more true than she’d like to admit. It was not the first time since arriving in this town that someone had ever so helpfully let her know that she looked like shit. She knew she looked like shit. It reflected the fact she felt pretty shit, but she wasn’t about to admit that to this joker. 

The man, whoever he thought he was, refused her offer to just go right ahead and bite her, unsurprisingly. She tsked before saying, “Darn.” At the end, she threw in a pout for good measure. Her expression quickly returned to being vaguely bored or annoyed. While she was trying to appear calmly confident anyone who knew what they were looking for would be able to tell she was nervous. Darcy had been at least nervous since that night. 

“To the what?” she asked not familiar with either of the places he mentioned. 

This woman had already stung Fergus the wrong way, which really didn’t take much to do. He smirked down to her and mimicked her shrug. “Maybe ye have nay respect at all.” He pointed out with his tone oozing with bits of disdain. However he started to recall his mood when he was spit into Ashbourne, and his face at least softened as he contemplated helping this weird person out. If need be he could get to know her and hunt her later when he felt bored. It was bound to happen. 

He was used to people pouting and so it was met with a coldness. Why didn’t he just abandon this broad at the curb? Instead he stared down at her pensively, before he offered her the bit of information. By her reaction she was obviously lost as fook in Ashbourne. 

“Ta Hub is where t’ey can help ye find housing and a job here. The Watch is like ta police but here in hell.” Fergus answered simply with a small smile. “Perhaps ye can find a new paper bag to put over ye face.” The insult tossed in the air randomly, his tone remaining even.

Whether from exhaustion or the pure ludicrosity of something as small as a leaky pipe in a town where most issues came with a body count, Finn had to shake his head in confusion, trying to rattle the pieces together. “Uh, I dunno,” he returned lamely. Fergus was just kinda staring at him as he put his thoughts together, taking a beat to gather himself. It had been his night off, and most nights he got off from the Watch, Finn spent either being dragged out to a bar by his packmates or holed up in his apartment wistfully remembering how uncomplicated his life had been a mere four years ago.

“Yeah just uh, come on in.” The place was a mess, probably the reason Finn hadn’t noticed anything leaking. For all he knew, he might’ve spilled some coffee. On the wall. It wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility. “How long’s it been leaking?” Finn was out of his element when it came to fix it type stuff. His dad had been the handyman of the family, and despite Finn’s gift for architecture, it was all theoretical for him. Once he made the plans, he didn’t have the skill to implement them. “Do you uh, need any tools or anything?”

Why didn’t this asshole hear that insufferable dripping? Oh well, not here or there. He just wanted to get inside and see the potential damage. It wouldn’t hurt to do a quick look to see around his neighbour’s apartment either. However, he knew his stare could be explained as quizzical at best at the other man. He found it quite hard to believe himself, but then again it was rather quiet in his apartment to begin with.  Maybe it was just his apartment to begin with. He let out a breath of relief once Finn invited him in. He did like when people invited him into places, but he also liked to stalk them and just happen to have a copy of peoples’ keys.

Fergus’s eyebrows almost merged into a unibrow as he surveyed Finn’s home. Did this dude know how to use a cleaner? A file cabinet maybe? Rude questions that he didn’t feel like asking this minute. Instead he let out a whistle as he glanced around at the mess. He steps towards their joined wall and turned towards Finn. “Mmm Not too long, but it sounded like a fookin’ waterfall roaring in my apartment.” As he leaned his head toward the wall he paused again to glance to Finn.

“Got a hammer? Monkey wrench? Ahh do nay suppose ye have some plaster or spare pipe? Sheet or garbage bag, and a bucket,,..” Fergus just started to rattle off the stuff off the top of his head. Then pressed his ear closer to the wall. He was sure that Finn had all this readily available since he assumed the man was a goddamn hoarder. 

“Yeah, something exactly like that.” She said, looking at him as if he were insane. An unprotected witch was a stupid witch. Her mother had told her that at the ripe old age of 10 when she taught her how to cast protection spells on herself. Even now, there were spells littering her apartment, on the windows especially. It wasn’t as if she had many enemies in Ashbourne -she was a nurse, it wasn’t exactly a vocation that garnered an arch nemesis- but one day… One day Antonio could find himself within the town’s borders. As much as she hated him with every fiber of his being, he also terrified her to her core. If he ever… well, she was ready.  “Stop. yelling.” She gritted out, using every ounce of willpower that she had to lower her own voice. Oso whined softly a few feet away from them, sitting and looking between both of them with sad eyes. He never did like when they argued. “I never gave you a damn key.”

“Yeah, you never did.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes. Pen followed him back to her room, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. At his incredulous look, her brows knitted together in confusion. Ah, he probably expected her to redecorate, maybe even throw out any memory of him that she had. She’d been too busy drowning herself in work to do anything of the sort. “I’m sorry?” The witch drawled, not entirely sure what to say to him. “I like it like this. I’m not gonna change it just because we…” Just because they were chaos personified and realized it too late. 

The dark-haired witch leaned against the frame of her door as she watched him rifle through his things. She doubted she’d use the drawer after he left, it would feel too weird. The energy surrounding it would put her off balance and she desperately needed to maintain as much harmony in her life as she could. Because I still care about you. A frown marred her features as she stared at him for a moment.  It was one thing that she hated about him, trying to figure out if he was lying. Fergus wasn’t exactly an open book and while she prided herself on being able to read people, he was an enigma. “No, you don’t.” The words were small but challenging. She wasn’t sure she entirely believed them, but they felt right to say. Her parents cared about her. Her coven cared about her. She didn’t know what Fergus felt. At one point, she thought he did, but that felt like a lifetime ago even though it had only been months. 

“You wish.” Penelope scoffed, her nose scrunching in disgust. “And spoken like a true pessimist. Is that what you told yourself through our relationship? ‘People don’t change, so why should I?’.”

Her body froze as he asked about his shirt. Slightly widened eyes traveled down to the very shirt she was wearing and she cursed herself in her mind for being a creature of habit. Fuck me. “No.” She finally said, adjusting her robe to cover the shirt slightly and crossing her arms over her chest. God, she was never going to hear the end of this, was she?

“Oh fookin’ please. Ye are nay the great wizard in all of fookin’ Ashbourne, Penne.” He spat vindictively taking whatever dig he could at the time. The words to stop yelling only made him want to shriek louder at her. Use that anger inside of him for oomph, however the sound of Oso whining had him tense his jaw as he spoke towards her through gritted teeth to keep his volume down. “Have ye lost your fookin’ mind? How else would I have a key?” He challenged her significantly with that phrase. Be the first one to crack the game of trying to be civilized around her dog. Because at the moment Oso was the only bro keeping him from popping off at her for some irrelevant thing to change the subject.

Her comment had him staring through her as if he wanted her to instantaneously explode and leave Oso with him.  Fergus’s tongue left his lips as he licked his top lick and he growled down towards her. The move to the room was better anyway, at least there he could bitterly continue to dig the verbal daggers into her. “Ye did matter  at a time.” Fergus found himself admitting after he got over how the room looked exactly the fucking same. Was he dealing with a psychotic witch? It would make sense. No sane person would date him for a full year. Unless he had grown perfect at the pieces of his life he falsified. “Just because we are nay together?” Fergus finished for her and stared long and hard at her face to test the emotion that ran from it.

“I don’t?” He repeated and all but slammed the dresser drawer shut. Fergus turned towards her and folded his arms possibly to mock her earlier stance. “T’en why would I waste my time ta return ye things? I could have just burnt t’en.” Another challenge he gave her as he stared intently with his smoldering gaze. That was part of their dynamic was the challenge. They somehow figured out all the buttons to press and the emergency exit when it got too dangerous. Perhaps that’s why they lasted for so long, and maybe that’s why there’s still a part of him that craves it.

“Oi. Ex-fookin’-cuse me? Please enlighten me when I fookin’ hunted and killed ye. I do nay remember t’at.” He hissed hoping his point stuck to his ex. The fact he didn’t kill her the moment he knew she was a witch or plotted to was change enough – for him. A change he didn’t like that’s for sure. “W’at did ye tell yourself during our relationship?  T’at ye could just dispose of me when ye wanted?” The tone is almost teasing if it wasn’t full of spite.

Suspicion grew at her reaction and he followed her eyes to her robe. Was she wearing it? He wrestled the door back open to pry out a few other things. Then took large steps quickly to linger in front of her. His fingers move up to slide over the shoulder material of the robe. A knowing glance in her eyes, “No? Is t’at ye final answer?” He whispered harshly steering his face closer to hers , so his hot breath pressed against her face. Dangerous territory, but he was always a reckless asshole.

“Yeah.” Shoulders rise and fall in a small little shrug as another glance was given down at the dog, keeping her on a tight leash to ensure that she didn’t lung out at the stranger again. She didn’t seem quite so aggressive after a moment or two, or perhaps from the chiding, but she still didn’t seem quite so happy or lazy like she usually was around people. Something was up with her. But Maeve kept a smile on her face regardless. After all, it wasn’t like her to let anyone see any other side of her than happy go lucky.

“I haven’t either. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t others out there, I’ve only been here about half a year. It seems like the population here is pretty… diverse.” That was a peaceful way of putting it, at least. Maeve wouldn’t admit so easily that she was one of the more diverse people here in more than a way just of being born outside of America. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she murmured about his parents. “It’s been probably eight or ten years since I was last there. I’ve been living on this side of the pond for a while now.” More like eight or ten decades, but she’ll leave out that particular detail.

The sight of the dog reminded him that he needed to procure one to replenish some of his stash. Where did he go about getting a fookin’ dog anyway? “W’at shelter did ye get him at?” He wasn’t sure the location of one in town, because that’s something he forced himself to forget. Hopefully the one he picked out didn’t end up like Kujo over there by this woman. That would be unfortunate for him and a waste of time. Not that he minded wasting time contrary to popular belief. Some of his more sardonic ideas came to surface when he was wasting the air he breathed.

“Diverse ye say?” He challenged her with a smirk. “Do tell.” Fergus said simply trying to fish more out of her. Some people it was easy to crack, but he wasn’t sure the owner of the rabid dog would be easy. She was closer to himself, at least he thought she was, than these other plebs stuck in this place. “Oi, tis alright.” They had it coming all along. Fergus hummed a minute and asked curiously, “W’at do ye do for a livin’ here?”

A smug smile rippled across the fae’s visage. Of course, not all of his customers had to bring in an animal for him to see them. But for Fergus, it was a special case. He enjoyed poking the bear so to speak. Making his own little sprinkle of joy in his day to day. “Oh but we wouldn’t want anyone to get suspicious.” A sweet talking New York accent swept his words out and around the examination room. He leaned down, taking a peak at the stray. Despite maybe being a bit underweight, he actually looked in pretty good health. 

“Hello Oscar, how are you doing buddy?” He spoke to the dog with a bit more reverence than he had to the customer, paying it much more mind than the question posed. “If he’s too much, I can keep him, we run a kennel out the back you know.” 

Satisfied with the checkup, he mussed the mutts fur and smiled, finally returning his attention to the hunter. “You know I do. Are you thinking dagger or a necklace? Maybe some cool glasses, your wardrobe could use some improvements.” 

It wasn’t that Fergus disliked pets, it’s just that his father had quickly destroyed the notion of owning one. He had grown attached to his puppy, only to be forced to shoot it dead five months down the road. There wasn’t any reason to get a dog now. Besides, he could always just break into his ex’s apartment and hang out with her dog, Oso. “Oi, I could just say I’m workin’ on ta breakers.” Fergus offered, but there’s a distant smile as he glanced to the dog that quickly dissolved. 

Jasper keep him? Fergus strokes the red scruff on his chin thoughtfully. There was a solution to his dilemma, but he would need another stray if he came in again. Maybe he should just keep this mutt for business transactions. Soak the pup in Deadman’s blood so no vampires would eat it. That’s fair. “Actually, I’ll keep him.” The words more insistent than they were cantankerous. He gave a wayward glance at the dog on the operating table with a slight glare.

Fergus glanced down from his folded arms across his chest at his wardrobe. “Oi, are ye a fookin’ fashion consultant now?” After the question left his lips in a slight fit of grump he started to laugh. Of course Japer was a consultant of anything he needed. “Seriously though. Glasses. I like t’at idea. I can break up a piece and melt it.” He mused picturing his own little lab he had spent the past five years building here and there. As was normal he got a cocky grin and asked rather nonchalantly. 

“And what about some iron? Or are ye all copper pipe talk, lad?” Fergus knew the answer, and by now Jasper knew he was just being a dick asking for it.

Once he managed to get himself upright, Carrington had followed the beacons of light until they’d disappeared. Leaving him standing on the forest path, clutching his aching side, with fuck all to do but wonder where the hell he was and why wasn’t he dead. He should be. If the fall hadn’t killed him, then he would’ve certainly drowned.

But no. Here he was, alive as ever. He had no weapons, no phone, no supplies whatsoever. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and what was in his pockets. A sudden flare of fear had him grasping for the chain around his neck. He fumbled against his muddy shirt, but finally his slippery fingers connected with the familiar talisman. Carrington shuddered a sigh of relief, pulling it out into the night air. He clasped the platinum ring in his hand, pressing it to his chest, using it’s weight to try and center himself. He hadn’t lost it at least. It was all he had left.

A moment passed, then two. Once Carrington had his head on a bit more securely, he tucked the ring carefully back beneath his shirt, and started walking again. He slowed a bit later as he realized he wasn’t alone. A whistle from something human confirmed it. Carrington froze, hands at his sides to reveal he wasn’t armed as the man held him at gunpoint. Now that he was familiar with.

“It tried,” Carrington answered dryly. His head tilted curiously, though that was the only part of him that moved. “Ashbourne? Where the fuck is that?” He didn’t comment on the weapon. If the man wanted to shoot him, so be it.

Originally posted by tomshiddleston

Humans were a pain in Fergus’s ass. The unspoken protection they had around them, but that was easily twisted in the moment when he needed bait. Everyone was disposable to the hunter, at least that’s what he had everyone believe. Quickly his eyes noted the lack of any weapons which made him slowly drop his weapon to his side. Not eliminating the threat just yet. He was well aware of how monstrous a human being could be, because he was living proof himself.

The man had seen better days, at least that was his assessment of him. Fergus separated one of his hands from his gun and motioned around them. “T’is wee place of Hell.” He decided to place the gun in its holster. Only because the power of close combat thrilled him. He had a doubt it would come to that, but this poor bastard had stumbled onto him as a welcome.

“It is everywhere, but nowhere. Least t’at is w’at they say. Ye know about all ta tales of werewolves, vampires, demons, ghosts., fookin’ faeries, et cetera.  ” Fergus squinted his gaze and shrugged his shoulders idly moving closer. “They all live here too.  So ye need ta be careful.” He had closed the distance some, but was still being precarious about this exchange. “Ye hurt at all?” He hadn’t been hurt when he crossed over, but he ha witnessed others that weren’t as lucky. 

His annoyance was beginning to show not only through his words but at the tensing of his jaw – and Anastasia reveled in it. Her smile took on its usual menacing, grotesque appearance as she simply stared at him, evaluating her prey. Though she could not bring herself to eliminate such a wonderful specimen right away, twisting his nerves until he made the first move was certainly an option. After all, who wouldn’t believe a pretty woman who claimed it was self defence?

“Oh, dearest – I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable,” she cooed, noting his leg between them. Almost as though adhering to his wordless request she stepped back, though the hand wavered in front of his face for a moment before returning to her side. “I just can’t quite place you among those I’ve allowed to escape me before. You don’t look related to anyone I’ve known, but I can smell it on you – tell me, what are you?” It was clear that he wasn’t one of her kind, nor was he a werewolf by the smell of things, but besides the two she had no idea what else lurked around Ashbourne. 

Years spent alone had thrown most of her social etiquette out of the window – her bluntness was masked occasionally by her honeyed words, though here it was clear that she was struggling to make much sense. Her thoughts were going at a mile a minute trying to paint a picture of this man’s potential family, though every lead she had ended up turning blank before she could find an answer. “And don’t lie to me, sweetheart. This ‘crazy’ you see is mild compared to what can be unleashed, should you be unwilling to cooperate with me.”

Uncomfortable? "I find ye to be insufferable." Fergus retorted with unrestrained snark and stalked her hand in front of his face with his eyes. It took all his will to control to the urge to snap her hand in another direction - or at least try with the supernatural strength not being on his side. He for the moment, lets it go and replaced it with an agitated sigh.  How nutty was this broad anyway? Oh well, two can play this game.

There's a defiant curl to his lips before he responded. Almost using his pent up irritation to huff the word into her face. If he had a lit cig he would have likely puffed a bit of smoke into her face. Maybe she would get the idea to go play crazy with someone else - one that wasn't him. "Oi ye know..I did use a diff shampoo t'is mornin'." Fergus started to tease, but the question about what he was. That was a blood can of worms, but he forced another smile at the expense of the woman. "Oi, lass. Can ye nay tell by my words? I'm a bloody fookin' leprechaun. 'cept my pot of gold is somewhere shoved up ye arse."

"Oh goodie. Why not just toss me ye crazy? Because I owe ye nothin'. Except maybe ye ashes being lit on fire." Fergus mused and the visual thought made his hues dance with a disturbing sense of macabre. This vampiress would only be a pest for a little time longer. He contemplates trying to light her on fire, but part of him has a morbid curiosity just what happens when you poke the bear.