"Nae matters the circumstance of yer birth, nor yer lot in life, only the truthiness of yer grit and the strength of yer heart."
NAME: FERGUS GALLAGHER
AGE: 46
HEIGHT: 6'-4"
WEIGHT: 268 lbs
HAIR COLOR: DARK BROWN
EYE COLOR: LIGHT BROWN
--- CREW POSITION ---
Deckhand / Crewman / General Mook and Goon.
--- PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ---
Ferghus is a vastly muscular man of middling years hailing from. Standing quite a bit above the average human he tends to stick out. It doesn't help that the man is heavily muscled and prefers to flaunt his physique.
His shaggy medium length brown hair seamlessly transitions into mutton chops and a thick beard, truly a gruff visage, yet one that more often than not sports a jovial expression, a warm smile below a wide flared nose. Of course, his light brown eyes tend to give off a minor tranquillity to them, betraying the rough exterior, whilst being topped off by thick brows, often furrowed. A countenance that is also dominated by a fair amount of wrinkles, generally worn by age.
The bulky man is also seen sporting an array of tattoos gathered through near a lifetime of piracy. From which each he tells of having their own little story to go along with. Most notably of these are a great oak splayed out across a defined back, branching up and around broad shoulders. A pair of skulls surrounded by roses, one of which is embedded by a simple dagger. And innumerable octopi, which the man deems as his favorite creature.
--- ATTIRE ---
Mister Gallagher, despite his penchant for the theatrical, does not clad himself in gaudy apparel that would frankly just get in the way. Not to mention fitting all manners of straps and buckles on such a large frame might prove quite problematic. And thus, one will most often find the man wearing nothing more than a simple striped tank, a loose pair of slacks, and a sash of similar material to bind it all together. A simple man.
--- PERSONALITY ---
Fergus is a very patient man with a great deal of interest on the theatrical, the gusto, the throngs of MANLINESS. There are very few people that anger or irk the man through incompetence or immaturity, in fact Fergus prefers to share in the naivety and innocence of those redeemable.
Always touting on about reaching perfection in some trait, this large man always forges onward his hardest to push himself beyond the limits of what makes a man a man, and thus encourages all those around him in the same manner. Whether they be underling, equal, superior, or enemy, Fergus wishes only to inspire those around himself that they may one day do the same for others, even despite his menial position.
Some may say that he is far too old to be a good deckhand, he only laughs it off with a hearty smile. Though due to his age, Fergus often finds himself acting fatherly, even to those of higher rank than he, occasionally landing him in hot water. Not to mention the mishaps through his straightforward attitude.
Fergus's traits are that of staunch nonchalance and perseverance, to see a better tomorrow and brighter future for all things. Deeply ingrained within the man is a love for all creatures, whether they be beast or bird, man or otherwise. Things are not nearly so black and white to the man.
His heart is warm, his demeanor inviting, Fergus is a difficult man to anger and one of surprising tranquility. On top of which he is honest to a fault, finding it nearly impossible to hide anything through his very transparent feelings. The man can be seen as too soft for his line of work, for above all, he desires only peace, freedom, and the spray of the sky seas.
--- WEAPONS & EQUIPMENT ---
Fergus is something of a tavern brawler, in the manner that he's quite proficient in beating the livin' hell outta something with those massive meat-hunks of his. Often making the most of the great strength he wields inside those muscles.
Of course, flesh is not all that great at stopping a bullet or blade. So when need be, the man can pull out nothing more than a low-grade pig iron cutlass. One that he isn't all that professional in use of.
--- BRIEF HISTORY ---
A career pirate, through and through. This is a man of experience, yet not of status, having spent a great majority of his life on the treacherous seas, in the turbulent skies. For they are his home, his life, his dreams.
Born to simple-folk, of simple lineage, Fergus indeed had plotted a course in a life of simplicity. As a more rambunctious boy, he had been raised among a small family afloat a lesser wander isle of little consequence, in poverty amid numerous other men, women, and children of the same brand of dullness. And frankly, there isn't much to say about the life he left behind.
Up until the early teens had Fergus worked with his hands, even as a wee lad, producing the coinage to provide not only for his own hungry maw, but for that of his family. Trivial physical labor, a trend that began a young Fergus's molding into the bulky giant he is today. Of course, there is only so much satisfaction one ambivalent teen could receive in carrying cargo day in and day out, hour after hour for a pittance. No, a hungry heart and strong will demand something more to life, bound to an existence so narrow, it pains the soul.
And so, as any rash child with a penchant to see the world would do, Fergus found himself a stowaway, hardly even with a thought that he had broken his family's heart. Of course, these thoughts would catch up to the man, as he aged, as he grew wizened. Serving aboard an array of different ships of the sea and skies, never once with a care for becoming anything greater than a mere swabbie. For it was not rank, or subordinates, or power, or wealth in which the large man desired. No, simply the wind in his beard, and the spray of the sea, the freedom, the vastness of the world. Wanderlust. These are what keep Fergus's heart.
As for how ever he managed to find himself aboard the good old Horizon? Well, there comes a time in every pirate's life, where their luck just happens to run dry. For Fergus, this happened to be around the ripe young age of 39, seven years ago. Why don't we let him tell the story?
"Right, there I was. Locked right on up in the bilges-o-some god-fersaken vessel, tha crew I'd-a-been runnin' with just happened ta get in some deep troublin' waters, in a matter of speakin'. Beside me, me mates, Coughlan n' Aodh. Like I was sayin', here tha three-o-us are, down shit creek without a paddle, an' I mean it was bad, ya never know what another band of 'rats are gonna do with tha prisoners they 'aven't slit tha throats of.
Right about tha time when all our 'ope went and dwindled on ta fairy land, tha sound of rallyin' men. Ach, never in me-life can I say with such certainty that I'd been so happy ta hear cannon fire. Course, tha three-o-us were still all cooped up 'hind those bars. So what'd we do when tha guards took off ta deal with whatever big-ole mother they were after?
Used me damn arm as a crowbar, we did. Fit it all nice and tight 'tween tha hinges, an' all-o-us just pushed tha ever-lovin' hell outta it. Desperate times, lads. Sure, we coulda kept hopin' on some errant ball of lead slamming right through tha hull, but that'd be a damn miracle in a haystack it would.
Soo, just about tha time me arm snapped, all loud and cracklin' too, tha big-ole metal door broke off. Oh shite we were celebratin' that one for awfully too long. Right on up ta tha point where one-a tha crewman drew his blade right on through Aodh, damn bastard. He was done right then an there, mortally wounded, but we could pull 'im through, we could, we believed.
After dealin' with the blighter what stuck 'im an' all. Tha three-o-us waited, and we waited 'till juuuust 'fore all the commotion slowed down. Cause that's our chance, an' we took it, rushin' on by storm to tha deck. Blastin' ourselves through piles of men, headin' fer our target, a rattletrap ole Spectre. That's when tha final hope faded, a right fine explosion took that one on down to plummet through tha clouds.
We were ready ta throw in tha towel, sayin' our farewells, our last words an all. No regrets, no regrets. Course, that's when Coughlan just so happened ta catch wind-o-Sylph in disrepair. Like a little gift from above. Oh, they'd already decided, 'You go on Fergus, we'll catch up.' Damn bastards knew they'd never make it. Didn't matter what I said, final wishes an all, someone had ta stay with Aodh. Ach, rest their souls.
Swear, just got somethin' in me eye.
Where was I? Oh right, here I am, broken arm, never been a pilot in me life, flyin' some shoddy rust-bucket of a Sylph. Had no choice but ta go after the big-beauty that sunk that lil' scrap heap of a prison ship. And so, it was tough, lemme tell ya. Three days and three nights I was, waverin' in tha clouds, nearly passin' out every few hours after the adrenaline all got spent up.
Like I was chasin' an unreachable dream, only had Coughlan an' Aodh's memory to get me where I could right keel over. Three. Days. That'll kill a man without conviction. So I kept up with that grand skyship, what other choice was there? But, I just couldn't make it, an the fuel was all but runnin' dry. Ach, I remember starin' at that empty gauge fer hours, waitn' 'till it just gave out. At a time like that, there's no dread, there's no sense of fear or anguish. Only that I gave it me all, and maybe it just weren't enough. I was satisfied ta go.
But, course, that's about the same time the pace-o-that ship just barely slowed an unnoticeable tick, that I picked up on in me state. And so, I readied meself fer the crash landin' Haha! Only broke four extra bones after that, wouldn'tcha believe? Needless ta say, tha welcomin' party weren't all that kind at first glance, but after three days-o-chasin' what coulda been ghosts, any face was a welcomin' one. An, here I been, ever since, swabbin' decks 'till kingdom come! Hahah!
Ya know, after tha fact, I always found meself wonderin' why they never just shot me outta tha sky and be done with it, and why just about tha time when all hope dried up, they slowed down. Like it was some kinda test of will, or somethin'. I dunno, the Cap'll never give me an answer ta that one. . ."--- RELATIONSHIPS ---
S'THERE ANY OF YA LOT WHO WANNA BE BUDS? It seems I forgot to -
YAARRRRRRGGHHH!
Guardian Angel Haruki,
Jai Makhno,
Snass,
pollo,
Lurking Krog,
Sandes
