@cantankerousundertaker || portrayal of PLAGUE from FORTNITE. blog will be heavily headcanon based but an attempt to stick to any canon information will be made. selectively HE/HIM for both mun and muse. asks are and always will be OPEN and are ENCOURAGED as mun is socially awkward and prefers others to initiate an interaction. anything suggestive is discouraged. curse/magic anons allowed. OOC will be written with //.
headcanons, backstory and other information below the cut.
𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒.
#PPERILOUS AND POTENT || in character posts.
#DDISMAL LAMPLIGHT || answered asks.
#EEXPERIMENTAL MISHAPS || OOC posts.
#MMISPLACED NOTES || reblogs.
#DDELVE INTO THE MADMAN’S MIND || standalone posts.
𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒;
His full name is DR. IGOR TOTH KRÜGER. (Though IGOR is a cover name.)
Instead of coming to the ISLAND 'naturally', he instead died in another reality and somehow found himself rebirthed on ATHENA.
He has some memories of his past life, but they are few and far between.
He's currently in his late 50s.
Before becoming PLAGUE, he was previously DR. MALACHITE working at VIRIDIAN LABS.
A lab accident left him heavily burned and led to him taking up the mantle of PLAGUE.
He has an older brother, their relationship is..strained at best.
He's married to SKY STALKER.
He dabbles in reanimation. (Dabbles is a severe downplay, it's been his obsession ever since coming to ATHENA.)
He often uses a cane to get around.
He currently lives in a small cabin tucked away on the outskirts of the ISLAND, its lower floor serves as his LABORATORY.
CURDLE SCREAM LEADER was one of his first creations, it's still wandering around somewhere. He'd like them returned home.
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘;
If you were to describe PLAGUE in one word, it would be eccentric.
He’s constantly looking for new things to try for his research, going to lengths that are morally grey at best and downright sinister at its very worst. Does he care? Not particularly. All in the pursuit of science, after all.
Former poster boy of VIRIDIAN LABS, he’s abrasive, loud, and overly confident in both his ability and intellect. Him and hubris go hand in hand; it’s what lead him to the experiment that caused his burns.
His temper is infamous for how volatile it becomes. People who he doesn’t know that well often get the brunt of his short fuse; he snaps, snarls and purposely pries into others’ business to keep them away. (Though also because he’s simply nosy to a fault. He likes knowing things.)
Though if you (somehow) manage to befriend him, he tones down his..eccentricities to an extent. He’s more pleasant, and almost calm at times when around friends.
He’d even try to involve you in his research! How nice.
[PLAGUE would cock his head at the incessant jingling of the keychain, his beady eyes narrowing as he studied the shiny object. How strangely fascinating for his newly…avian brain.]
[The crow would hop incessantly from foot to foot and caw, almost performing an odd dance for the keychain. He wondered if his brain had shrunk in the process of this..curse.]
While working in your laboratory, a strange mist seems to settle around your workspace. It’s purple and glittery, and has the odd scent of cedar and pine.
As it swirls around you faster, you feel a strange…shift in form; and are now a crow. The mist dissipates, and a piece of paper is left in front of your newly avian claws, reading;
“You are now a crow for 3 asks, enjoy your new temporary, feathery existence!” ✨✨
[PLAGUE wouldn’t even get a chance to flounder in the mist before he felt himself begin to shrink and morph in the magic’s grip. His cloak, no longer supported by his shoulders, fluttered uselessly to the ground on top of his shrinking stature; leaving him in darkness as the transformation took its course.]
[Emerging from the pile of fabric and bandages with a few well-timed hops, PLAGUE now found himself to be a rather small crow; adorned with a miniature version of his tricorne and with an ever-so-slightly singed left wing. How quaint.]
“…”
[He tilted his newly-avian head to scan his beady gaze over the note, cawing in displeasure and ruffling his sleek, black wings. This..sudden metamorphosis was a hindrance to his research. No matter. He shall find a way to continue his studies despite the…conditions.]
Well now... It's been a long time since you showed your face, hm, "Igor"?
{A young-looking woman with violet eyes and short white hair stood behind you, her expression simultaneously imperious and amused. The jagged spikes of a dark stone crown adorned her head, and stone keys clinked softly on her belt.
It seems Persephone has taken an interest in your recent resurfacing.}
I knew your Thread hadn't run out yet. The Fates do not lie.
[PLAGUE would startle, whipping around on his heels and shoving his lantern threateningly in the direction of the stranger. The light within it flickering pitifully. He attempted to appear unafraid, but the lantern shook with nerves; He had never recalled seeing a woman like this wandering the forests.]
“YES- well. Science does not wait for me, so I shall not wait for it; It does not yield for the uncouth and unwilling. My absence was merely..work-based.”
[He sneered, taking a step closer and jerking the light close to her to get a better look at her face. The numerous vials and beakers hanging from his waist clinked together with the movement.]
“And who might you be? I don’t recall seeing you before, and believe me; I remember every face that steps foot in these woods.”
Indeed! "Science", as you say, never rests, especially in its pursuit to understand.
{Despite the lantern being shoved in her face, Persephone did not flinch. Rather, a haughty smile spread across her face, lamplight glittering in her eyes.}
I am one of the many forces your science bends to, Plague. I am Life. I am Spring. Of Death, I am Queen. I am Persephone.
{Something incomprehensible flickered in her irises. The goddess looked down on the man before her with an almost pitying curiosity. His work had twisted him into something barely human now, and yet he pursued it still.
Fascinating.}
You have made quite the bit of work for my dear Fates. Dabbling in necromancy has many, many repercussions, yet you seem to think you can pay the price indefinitely.
[PLAGUE fell into a heavy silence, his tremors ceasing as he held the lantern eerily still in his grip. The other hand, the one holding his cane, pushed the sharpened end further into the giving earth.]
“…”
[Then he cackled. It was a rasping, guttural, revolting thing of spluttered wheezes and coughs. As if the very prospect of a Goddess visiting him was quite possibly the funniest thing to ever happen to him. He tilted his head with a jerk, still tittering as he gathered his composure.]
“Oh, yes. And I’m the King of FRIGID FORTRESS.”
[The grin in his voice was evident, even with the plague mask covering his features.]
“I don’t believe you.”
[He sing-songed, digging his cane further into the muck as he leaned forward even further; as if that was even possible.]
“You don’t get to question my life’s work either. If I have dodged everything the reaper has thrown at me thus far, who’s to say I won’t evade what comes next? I’m practically a God myself.”
{The absolute audacity, to stare a goddess in the face and deny her existence!
Persephone threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing off the trees. Her mere presence had caused the greenery around them to grow more lush even as they stood there, and still he denied her!}
What blind genius! To cheat Thanatos for so long and yet mock Death's Queen as she stands before you!
{Her eyes flashed in the darkness, er smile dangerous.}
Life and Death will never answer to you, child. Undeath is neither realm, and it is a poor imitation of both. You are a god only of ash and arrogance, and it will take your life one day.
[PLAGUE seemed to roll his eyes at her theatrics, either not noticing or choosing to blatantly ignore the bloom of the fauna around him as he glared up at the so-called Goddess. His lantern's light ebbed in and out of its dull glow.]
"Tch. It is child's play, all of it. Nothing but a handful of drivel, for THANATOS I care not. He is a fool in the face of my genius."
[Then she uttered it. Child.]
"..."
[PLAGUE immediately bristled, gripping his cane so tightly that his glove creaked under the pressure. His cane followed suit, groaning with the strain of his grip.]
"I-I am NO child!"
[He hissed, grinding a budding blossom under his heel with a thud of his foot on the earth. Despite the threat of toppling, PLAGUE'S cane came swooping up; it's sharpened edge pointing right at her throat. He was seething.]
"LIFE and DEATH has ALWAYS ANSWERED TO ME! It- IT YIELDS under my command! YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS MY DOMAIN AND RIDICULE MY MAGNUM OPUS-"
[His voice reached a shrill fever-pitch, practically frothing at the mouth in his rage. PLAGUE'S anger looked quite obscene, however, due to his small stature.]
"AND- AND IF I DIE? SO BE IT! I SHALL LEAVE A LEGACY SO GREAT IT WOULD SURPASS YOUR SUPPOSED DIVINITY!!! I WOULD BE WORSHIPPED BEYOND MY GRAVE!! I- I-"
{Her smile took on an almost predatory quality, gleaming deadly in the night. In the blink of an eye, Persephone grasped the wretched "doctor" by the throat, lifting him as though he were weightless.}
The gods do not brook fools, and even less do we tolerate usurpers.
{Reality split under her feet, leaving them braced in the bow of a small boat on a sickeningly green river, a hooded skeleton at the port side holding the boat steady with a pole. The screams of the agonized dead choked the air, which grew cold and heavy with mist. The jagged spires of a stone gate rose far over their heads.
Persephone lowered Plague just enough to reach his ear, her voice low and dangerously even.}
Consider it a blessing that you fail to truly tame Life and Death, Plague, else I would drag you with me to Hell in this very instant.
{The tear in Reality closed, and she dropped the pitiful creature on the lush grass once more.}
As it is, your miserable existence is punishment enough to please my beloved.
[As he was about to deliver another tirade, PLAGUE squawked as he was lifted by his throat, his hands immediately forgoing the lantern and cane in favour of wrapping his - frankly - fragile hands around the woman’s wrist. Spittle bubbled in his mouth behind the mask, turning his usual rasp into a wet, vile warble.]
“YYYYYOU- C-CANNOT- I-“
[He coughed, kicking his one good leg out in protest as the one encased in the thick, metal brace hung useless. His clothed hands, bandaged and further wrapped still, continued to claw at the Goddess’ arm like a rabid beast in his struggle.]
[That was until the ground parted underneath her feet.]
[PLAGUE, still gasping for what little oxygen he was allowed, went limp in a form of primal fear. His grip went slack around her wrist, and he willed himself to peer downwards. He felt a shudder go through him, cursing himself internally for his fear as he realised he had severely doubted her.]
“…”
[Without his aid, he collapsed into an ungodly heap on the forest floor; pain shot up his spine and leg and forcing him to wince. Scrambling back on his elbows, chest heaving with greedy gulps for air once more. Free from her grasp, he bristled once more to go back on the defensive.]
“I-It isn’t that I FAILED to tame life and death, you miserable woman. You’re- you are simply too COWARDLY to drag me down with you.”
[He shot back with a shuddering drawl, pointing a shaking digit once more.]
“Even in your malice, you value life too much to hinder it..even mine. For all my wrongs, I still mean something to your precious Fates; don’t I?”
[PLAGUE chortled, shoulders shaking as he crawled to his cane to right himself once more - looking like a particularly ruffled bird.]
//This is a tad long be kind this is my first standalone..cw for a tiny mention of plague doing some bullshit science
[PLAGUE always felt it. It festered deep in his bones. The grave chill. It sat there. Festering for all those years. Forcing him to become all the more aware of each time he was uprooted from some god-forsaken island and chucked onto a new one, expecting him to be right and ready to pick his research back up. Piece by agonising piece. He had failed to recall where he had last saw his journal. PLAGUE’S memory often failed to aid him in situations such as these.]
[How many islands had it been now? He’d lost count. It was routine.]
[He could feel every crease in his gloves, the fabric irritating his skin every time he expressed the very thought of flexing his fingers. PLAGUE’S fingers curled ever so subtly tighter around the pencil he was scrawling with. Everything, as of lately, was becoming too much. It pained him to move most days. Agonised his very being. He supposed it was just the increasing chill of the forest.]
[Everything ached, and everything hurt. Whenever did it not? But alas. Pure spite kept him going, most mornings. He was staring down his latest..triumph..against death. A scuttling, squirming thing made from a hand and foot crudely stitched together with thread. He held the end in his teeth, closing the seams between the two specimens with a repetitive shhk. Shhk. Shhk.]
[It was obscene. It was revolting.]
“It’s beautiful.”
[PLAGUE murmured, willing himself to outstretch his arms to cradle the amalgamation like a father would his child alongside allowing his lips to stretch into what seemed to resemble a grin. Looking down at it with adoration. After admiring the product of his own genius for far too long, he dropped it back onto the tray with an uncaring clatter and steered himself to another rickety workbench.]
[He leaned heavily on his cane, staggering to and fro as he dodged upturned beakers or a spill of god-knows-what for the umpteenth time in his trek across his lab. He would have to clean that sometime. But now was not such.]
[He had forgone the security of his mask in the privacy of his sanctuary, barely sparing a glance of his mottled, gnarled features as they caught the reflections of several beakers and glass vials. Yet just for a moment, he paused in his frantic ministrations around his space to simply look.]
[He was no longer himself. And that frightened him. It was a thought that he feared to entertain when he was in bed with the darkness of night and the snores of his beloved as companions.]
[A name had come before PLAGUE. Before DR. MALACHITE. But just what was it? It was just out of his reach. He could touch its hazed edges in the very depths of his mind, yet never grasp it fully.]
[He raised a hand to touch the organic, misshapen side of his face as he peered at himself in the shattered fragment of a mirror. The skin warped and stretched from the accident.]
[PLAGUE felt the itch of his beard at the split between scar tissue and skin. He felt the delicacy of the barrier between air and muscle - marred with ridges from the burns. He felt the lopsided bridge of his nose where his spectacles perched precariously. He felt the wrinkles of age root themselves in his skin like worms to the earth. The sheer grotesqueness of his flesh amused him. To an extent.]
Well now... It's been a long time since you showed your face, hm, "Igor"?
{A young-looking woman with violet eyes and short white hair stood behind you, her expression simultaneously imperious and amused. The jagged spikes of a dark stone crown adorned her head, and stone keys clinked softly on her belt.
It seems Persephone has taken an interest in your recent resurfacing.}
I knew your Thread hadn't run out yet. The Fates do not lie.
[PLAGUE would startle, whipping around on his heels and shoving his lantern threateningly in the direction of the stranger. The light within it flickering pitifully. He attempted to appear unafraid, but the lantern shook with nerves; He had never recalled seeing a woman like this wandering the forests.]
“YES- well. Science does not wait for me, so I shall not wait for it; It does not yield for the uncouth and unwilling. My absence was merely..work-based.”
[He sneered, taking a step closer and jerking the light close to her to get a better look at her face. The numerous vials and beakers hanging from his waist clinked together with the movement.]
“And who might you be? I don’t recall seeing you before, and believe me; I remember every face that steps foot in these woods.”
Indeed! "Science", as you say, never rests, especially in its pursuit to understand.
{Despite the lantern being shoved in her face, Persephone did not flinch. Rather, a haughty smile spread across her face, lamplight glittering in her eyes.}
I am one of the many forces your science bends to, Plague. I am Life. I am Spring. Of Death, I am Queen. I am Persephone.
{Something incomprehensible flickered in her irises. The goddess looked down on the man before her with an almost pitying curiosity. His work had twisted him into something barely human now, and yet he pursued it still.
Fascinating.}
You have made quite the bit of work for my dear Fates. Dabbling in necromancy has many, many repercussions, yet you seem to think you can pay the price indefinitely.
[PLAGUE fell into a heavy silence, his tremors ceasing as he held the lantern eerily still in his grip. The other hand, the one holding his cane, pushed the sharpened end further into the giving earth.]
“…”
[Then he cackled. It was a rasping, guttural, revolting thing of spluttered wheezes and coughs. As if the very prospect of a Goddess visiting him was quite possibly the funniest thing to ever happen to him. He tilted his head with a jerk, still tittering as he gathered his composure.]
“Oh, yes. And I’m the King of FRIGID FORTRESS.”
[The grin in his voice was evident, even with the plague mask covering his features.]
“I don’t believe you.”
[He sing-songed, digging his cane further into the muck as he leaned forward even further; as if that was even possible.]
“You don’t get to question my life’s work either. If I have dodged everything the reaper has thrown at me thus far, who’s to say I won’t evade what comes next? I’m practically a God myself.”
{The absolute audacity, to stare a goddess in the face and deny her existence!
Persephone threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing off the trees. Her mere presence had caused the greenery around them to grow more lush even as they stood there, and still he denied her!}
What blind genius! To cheat Thanatos for so long and yet mock Death's Queen as she stands before you!
{Her eyes flashed in the darkness, er smile dangerous.}
Life and Death will never answer to you, child. Undeath is neither realm, and it is a poor imitation of both. You are a god only of ash and arrogance, and it will take your life one day.
[PLAGUE seemed to roll his eyes at her theatrics, either not noticing or choosing to blatantly ignore the bloom of the fauna around him as he glared up at the so-called Goddess. His lantern's light ebbed in and out of its dull glow.]
"Tch. It is child's play, all of it. Nothing but a handful of drivel, for THANATOS I care not. He is a fool in the face of my genius."
[Then she uttered it. Child.]
"..."
[PLAGUE immediately bristled, gripping his cane so tightly that his glove creaked under the pressure. His cane followed suit, groaning with the strain of his grip.]
"I-I am NO child!"
[He hissed, grinding a budding blossom under his heel with a thud of his foot on the earth. Despite the threat of toppling, PLAGUE'S cane came swooping up; it's sharpened edge pointing right at her throat. He was seething.]
"LIFE and DEATH has ALWAYS ANSWERED TO ME! It- IT YIELDS under my command! YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS MY DOMAIN AND RIDICULE MY MAGNUM OPUS-"
[His voice reached a shrill fever-pitch, practically frothing at the mouth in his rage. PLAGUE'S anger looked quite obscene, however, due to his small stature.]
"AND- AND IF I DIE? SO BE IT! I SHALL LEAVE A LEGACY SO GREAT IT WOULD SURPASS YOUR SUPPOSED DIVINITY!!! I WOULD BE WORSHIPPED BEYOND MY GRAVE!! I- I-"
Well now... It's been a long time since you showed your face, hm, "Igor"?
{A young-looking woman with violet eyes and short white hair stood behind you, her expression simultaneously imperious and amused. The jagged spikes of a dark stone crown adorned her head, and stone keys clinked softly on her belt.
It seems Persephone has taken an interest in your recent resurfacing.}
I knew your Thread hadn't run out yet. The Fates do not lie.
[PLAGUE would startle, whipping around on his heels and shoving his lantern threateningly in the direction of the stranger. The light within it flickering pitifully. He attempted to appear unafraid, but the lantern shook with nerves; He had never recalled seeing a woman like this wandering the forests.]
“YES- well. Science does not wait for me, so I shall not wait for it; It does not yield for the uncouth and unwilling. My absence was merely..work-based.”
[He sneered, taking a step closer and jerking the light close to her to get a better look at her face. The numerous vials and beakers hanging from his waist clinked together with the movement.]
“And who might you be? I don’t recall seeing you before, and believe me; I remember every face that steps foot in these woods.”
Indeed! "Science", as you say, never rests, especially in its pursuit to understand.
{Despite the lantern being shoved in her face, Persephone did not flinch. Rather, a haughty smile spread across her face, lamplight glittering in her eyes.}
I am one of the many forces your science bends to, Plague. I am Life. I am Spring. Of Death, I am Queen. I am Persephone.
{Something incomprehensible flickered in her irises. The goddess looked down on the man before her with an almost pitying curiosity. His work had twisted him into something barely human now, and yet he pursued it still.
Fascinating.}
You have made quite the bit of work for my dear Fates. Dabbling in necromancy has many, many repercussions, yet you seem to think you can pay the price indefinitely.
[PLAGUE fell into a heavy silence, his tremors ceasing as he held the lantern eerily still in his grip. The other hand, the one holding his cane, pushed the sharpened end further into the giving earth.]
“…”
[Then he cackled. It was a rasping, guttural, revolting thing of spluttered wheezes and coughs. As if the very prospect of a Goddess visiting him was quite possibly the funniest thing to ever happen to him. He tilted his head with a jerk, still tittering as he gathered his composure.]
“Oh, yes. And I’m the King of FRIGID FORTRESS.”
[The grin in his voice was evident, even with the plague mask covering his features.]
“I don’t believe you.”
[He sing-songed, digging his cane further into the muck as he leaned forward even further; as if that was even possible.]
“You don’t get to question my life’s work either. If I have dodged everything the reaper has thrown at me thus far, who’s to say I won’t evade what comes next? I’m practically a God myself.”
Well now... It's been a long time since you showed your face, hm, "Igor"?
{A young-looking woman with violet eyes and short white hair stood behind you, her expression simultaneously imperious and amused. The jagged spikes of a dark stone crown adorned her head, and stone keys clinked softly on her belt.
It seems Persephone has taken an interest in your recent resurfacing.}
I knew your Thread hadn't run out yet. The Fates do not lie.
[PLAGUE would startle, whipping around on his heels and shoving his lantern threateningly in the direction of the stranger. The light within it flickering pitifully. He attempted to appear unafraid, but the lantern shook with nerves; He had never recalled seeing a woman like this wandering the forests.]
“YES- well. Science does not wait for me, so I shall not wait for it; It does not yield for the uncouth and unwilling. My absence was merely..work-based.”
[He sneered, taking a step closer and jerking the light close to her to get a better look at her face. The numerous vials and beakers hanging from his waist clinked together with the movement.]
“And who might you be? I don’t recall seeing you before, and believe me; I remember every face that steps foot in these woods.”
