Post by FERGHUS on Dec 18, 2019 19:28:42 GMT -5
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[attr="class","exo_name"]FERGHUS
[break] | [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] 63 AGE [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] DIGITAL WORLD: WEST ORIGIN [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] SOLO CLASS | [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] M GENDER [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] NEUTRAL ALIGNMENT [attr="class","exo_field"] [attr="class","exo_ans"] ELECMON ROOKIE |
[attr="class","exo_box"]PERSONALITY [attr="class","exo_text"] Grumpy, while a strong word, expresses this mon's usual demeanor as he interacts with others. Often does he come off as cold, even downright hostile. However, he bears no ill will towards most he bothers to hold conversation with. Ferghus wants to get a job done, and done right. In a sense his harsh words may often come off as fatherly, though strict and disciplined. This gruff exterior is a protection method he has learned throughout his lifetime. Rare is the moment when he desires to get close to another, for fear of losing him or her for being away too often, or suffering consequences for his own actions. But at the same time, he insists on keeping a reputation of being a good contact if a job needs to be done, regardless of the details. [break][break] And to keep up the reputation of being a tough and rough Leomon. [break][break] Although he hides his feelings, he cannot help but worry himself over the next kid in a bad position. Some force in his memories keeps pushing this digimon to direct the youth down an appropriate path, in hopes he or she will keep themselves out of danger. Not without being too overbearing, as Ferghus can get quite stubborn and insist on it being his way. Instinct tends to kick in when a younger person is in danger, and although he will rush in and help, he'll try to play it off as a requirement for his client, regardless if he is lying. If someone were to get deeper into his thought process, his concern for the youth of today is a chance to fulfill that which he failed to protect. [break][break] Otherwise, his lifestyle is simple. Wander around, take a client here and then, gain money. After all of that is done, it's easy to find this monster in a bar of some sort, or at least outside one. He is a common alcoholic, with a tendency to lose track of himself (and his money), leading to a near drunk digimon. If he is outside, he also may or may not ask to bum a smoke if the lion is out of cigarettes. Sometimes a good smoking or drinking buddy is all he needs to calm down. Though rare, he may be found humming to himself some tune or another, likely a country-folk song or something similar. Want an easy way to embarrass this guy? Compliment his knack for country music. Ferghus's accent is heavy, one akin to the southern drawl of the United States' southern regions. | [attr="class","exo_box"]HISTORY [attr="class","exo_text"] Although far from any sort of legendary creature or renowned being, Ferghus is one of those people who went around the block, there, and back again. He was no hero, and never was born to such a life of fame and fancy. The mon was the archetype of a farm boy growing up, including his never faltering accent akin to that of a man from the southern regions of the United States. Ferghus, in his youth, was more of the cocky sort, toying with words to woo those he found attractive. Despite his behavior, he prioritized harsh work to help maintain his folks until a gang of bandits razed the farm down. [break][break] The razing of the farm was not until late into what can be considered youth for a human, when he was nineteen years of age. Two of his siblings were taken in the chaos, riling up Ferghus who had bouts of hotblooded rebuttals. He left to retrieve them despite his family's warnings. Being both stubborn and reckless, the Elecmon confronted the bandits who tarnished what his family owned. Typical as it were, a massive fight ensued, with Ferghus on the losing end. His rage against them was the catalyst. During the all out brawl he digivolved to Leomon after countless blows to his being, reaching their leader and his siblings. [break][break] He came back heartbroken. Although he defeated the bandits responsible for his family's tragedy, it came at the cost of a horrid miscalculation: his captured siblings were killed before his eyes as the lion tried to call a bluff. Upon returning to the farm, Ferghus discovered it to be deserted. Try as he may, nobody was around, finding nothing more than a note and his remaining belongings when searching the house. His living family packed up their things and moved on soon after the Leomon left, a sense of abandonment welling in his being despite the half accomplished revenge. [break][break] Refusing to reunite with his family, his mental state deeming his failure to retrieve his deceased siblings and the departure of his living kin a clear sign he was alone, Ferghus trudged off into the world. On and off jobs were difficult to come by. His skillset, he discovered, turned out to be combat and that was all the lion found his purpose to be. Another, digital monster who killed and was good at it. Over time Ferghus learned how to hone his 'craft', his main source of income stemming from hunting bounties. Perhaps it was just semi-legal murder, but he lost faith and anything that resembled loyalty. Unless the task was to murder some innocent folk, he did not care who the target was. [break][break] Over time the Leomon developed a smoking and drinking habit. Much of his income became devoted to this cause, the rest of it for sustenance or a place to lodge instead of sleeping in a tree. In truth, his life was on constant repeat of assailing a bounty, collecting the reward, then wasting it all either to live or promote his wretched habits. Ferghus did grow stronger as he fought more and defeated more powerful targets. It was a thankless life, risking body and sometimes mind just to be rewarded via joy of some rich or petty individual. Decades of work where he grew sour, bitter, becoming that grumpy old man who probably will yell at kids to get off his lawn. [break][break] Kicking a brat off his metaphorical lawn did not work all that well at one point during his life, around six years prior to the present time. Finishing another bounty, one of those times the lion had to bring someone in alive, a Cutemon who was captive by the target started to follow him around. Ferghus inisisted the little brat go home, dropping the kid off somewhere and getting on with his day, but the boy followed. Again. And again. The old man just about had it with this Cutemon, who told the lion "I don't have a home you stupid old man!" [break][break] Regrettably, in the Leomon's eyes, he let the brat stay so long as the kid stayed out of the way. Perhaps it was a misguided youth, mistaking a bounty hunter for a hero. Another mouth to feed meant less time and money for the habits Ferghus held onto for decades. This Cutemon, however, was an air of familiarity, being someone deemed unfit or too weak, and thus abandoned. A feeling the old lion was all too familiar with. Of course, they argued with each other, one being too stubborn for healing and the other complaining the old bastard was going to get himself killed one of these days. [break][break] A family they both deserved. Ferghus enjoyed the little guy's company, albeit, was not one to say it aloud all too often. Kid was an ass, just like his surrogate father, but wise about to the world. [break][break] He should have known nothing lasts forever. Many years had gone by since Ferghus began his trade as a bounty hunter. The man was not without fault, gaining the ire of those he took in alive as well as those affiliated. A massive, bulky thorn in their side. The Leomon knew how to handle his bounties, most of the time with preparation and a tactical ambush. But not an entire swarm of his former enemies assaulting him at once. He was beaten, ravaged from all sides, and pinned down as those he once vanquished grabbed hold of the Cutemon the lion raised for quite some time. And killed the boy. [break][break] Finishing their task, one of the old man's prior foes grabbed the Leomon's sword, and stabbed Ferghus through his left eye. [break][break] By some miracle he survived. Whether this was due to pure stubbornness, how his strength grew over the years, or some other circumstance has yet to be determined. Quite a worthless man, if his opinion was granted. On top of that, the wound he suffered in his eye is permanently damaged data, with no way to recover it due to the strain of keeping his form in tact from dying. Even after those who attempted to kill him left Ferghus to die, he lay there for quite some time in silence. The lion was not even allowed the grace of death, data bleeding out of his eye until it decided to stop and become a pathetic remnant of half the man's eyesight. [break][break] Wandering from place to place once more, a repeat of his earlier life took place. The Leomon went from job to job, picking up various skills here and there, all the while resuming his wonderful habits of smoking and drinking his digicore out. He became even more of a scowling, grumpy old man, distrusting just about everyone who looked in his direction. He was intimidating, giving a not so amicable vibe with his scarred body and eye patch. Once more he was alone in this world with nobody to make sure he did not get himself killed. Healing from injury became a process once again. [break][break] Memories of that Cutemon bombarded his head, as did the near unbearable pain he felt getting throttled by those he thought he defeated for good. A few times he considered ending everything right there and just be reborn to a better life. Or at least, hope he did. Even that Ferghus discovered he was unable to make transpire. In a half drunken stupor, however, the Leomon began to consider something years later. If the bastards who killed someone he even remotely cared about held onto a similar, stubborn push to live, they were still targets. Ones he knew operated in certain ways, whose names and faces etched themselves into his date. [break][break] It was time to murder every last one of them. |
[attr="class","exo_ooc"] his digimon species from digimon [break]
[attr="class","exo_ooc"] by 「 crazysaga 」
[attr="class","exo_ooc"] by 「 crazysaga 」
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