#( corragain: asks )

[corragain]

Nerd.

‘Nerd’ isn’t any one of Corrigan’s alignments.

[bloodfcst-a]

——— answer these questions then tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better!

TAGGED BY: @afoxhound​ (ty!)

TAGGING: @sharkapologlst @guiltpossessed @deviheim @dojiryu @extremepath @yakoiza @hananoken @martyrcrowned @akiyamascn @hathfire​ @legendariia​ @corragain​ @liveslived​ @takenfate​ @ohdove​ @blmonte​ @enshijou​ @spardian​ @nomadicnovice​ @magitekelite​ 

Zodiac: leo. Height: 5′2. Time: 19:04 Favourite band / artist: dir en grey & epik high. joji is up there though! Song stuck in my head: nothing atm, but “fly me to the moon” was up there for a while. Last movie I saw: just saw downton abbey last night xoxo Last thing I googled: ‘ soft goth ‘ Other blogs: this is the most active one i have. my personals & paz haven’t been active in a long while. Do I get asks: i do. Why did I choose this username: 'cause i wanted something subtly from vii without sounding like i was solely on that ninja train since that’s not the portrayal i was going for. this worked well. i also really like ‘ doom of the living ‘ but i couldn’t fit that into a cool sounding username imo. Following: a flat 200. Average amount of sleep: usually?? a lot. somewhere between 8-10h.  What I’m wearing: leggings and a pullover hoodie. i don’t have a lot of casual clothing. i need to borrow from others.  Dream job: travel writing about people & culture. so... cultural anthropology & sociology & intercultural relations. lmao.  Dream trip: places with rich culture & history.  Favourite food: i never know the answer to this!!! but i really like desserts with taro. also fried ice cream. rice is incredible? see, i don’t know the answer. Play any instruments: violin, bass guitar, acoustic guitar, ocarina.  Eye color: brown. Hair color: brown with copper highlights. Languages you speak: my mother tongue is english. i formally studied spanish, french, latin, biblical hebrew, khmer. i can sightread some korean but i’m pretty out of practice. i plan to start japanese at some point. Most iconic song:  moo. Random fact: i exclusively drink water out of mason jars when i’m at home. Describe yourself as aesthetic things:  i think most people think of me as ‘ glamour ‘ and ‘ baby girl ‘ energy but i’d describe myself as vintage, minimalist, and a heavy interest in soft goth. my every day look is somewhere between soft grunge & ........ ‘ hipster ’. idk i’m just comfy & myself & dress in the ways that most appeal to my spirit. 

[desertbroad]

kaj’s important relationships, part 1 : arcade gannon inspired by @corragain asking me to go off. ily

* ( if you write one of the characters in this series, obviously don’t take it as canon, b/c interpretations differ—these are just the versions of them that i write by default! )

‘ the people who live here don’t deserve to be victims of your misguided attempts at political engineering. or are they just collateral damage? ’

- the closest thing to a (human) best friend that kaj has ever had, kaj met arcade at the followers camp in freeside & charmed him with her latin knowledge / general do-gooder attitude. they’ve been bound at the hip ever since.

- since arcade’s not interested in women, their relationship is untainted (for lack of a better word) by sex or romance, which is kaj’s main avenue to manipulate people’s perceptions of her—thus, kaj can’t pull the wool over his eyes as easily. likewise, kaj is a talented liar while arcade is ... not so much, so she can suss out his bullshit just as well. in short, he sees her for exactly what she is, and she does the same for him while managing not to ask too many questions. and while kaj is known for surrounding herself with the occasional flatterer, arcade is not one of them; he happily gives her a dose of reality often and without prompting, and doesn’t care about pissing her off or pleasing her. if it says anything about the magnitude of their interaction? of all the people she knows, kaj has lied to arcade the least.

- arcade still calls ed-e it, but occasionally slips up and refers to ed-e with he/him pronouns, due to the courier’s insistence. kaj smirks every single time.

- due to both having enclave origins as well as kind hearts, they share a lot of the same perceptions about the world—views on factions like the legion, helping people, capitalism, history. while benny is the true opposite coin to kaj, arcade is made of the same fabric; they finish each other sentences and think alike, arcade often being the one who keeps kaj from becoming a complete megalomaniac. it’s why kaj joining the legion affects arcade so hard; though kaj backstabs everyone, he never expected it to happen to him, and he feels betrayed by his best friend. they have an extremely messy friend breakup when this happens. kaj nearly tells arcade the truth of her plan after he blows up at her & calls her an insane fascist / idealist. nearly.

- they reconcile when she sacks the fort and reveals her plan, but their relationship is strained, and it takes a while before they can bond again. still, by the end of the game, arcade is a member of kaj’s council and her closest, most trusted adviser—a suitable ending for two idealists.

- bonus: if you don’t think arcade and kaj DO THIS when they need to talk in front of the others, then you’re just wrong.

[corragain]

hc: Dancing. Corrigan being Corrigan considers himself an “indifferent dancer,” and with his demeanor perpetually stuck on one of two modes --- melancholic and dour --- ladies often feel markedly less happy after a set with him. He, however, isn’t bad. While he may be considered absolutely rude for not offering to dance with available women (it was the gentleman’s prerogative to ensure women were not left without partners; Corrigan, however, often stood by himself while there were still plenty of ladies unaccounted for), when his wife Rosie first caught his eye, he was able to charm her --- and, in her book, dancing is the language of love.

One of his biggest dreams was to dance with his daughter on her wedding day. Unfortunately, that will never be.

[corragain]

[corragain]

1 and 16 for both corrigan and edmund bc ily

random character development questions (accepting)

1. Have they ever had a near-death experience? If so: what happened, and what did they see, if anything?

For Corrigan, aside from the present expedition? Several, most while on the high seas. He’s sailed through storms, has been battered near coastal shores, and was almost dragged to the violent waves by a kraken. He’d been wrecked on the Island of Sark once. When he was a young man, he’d fallen off the mast ladder. When his wife said "yes," his heart nearly stopped. When his daughter was born.

Edmund is a wildcard and has a phonebook of near-death experiences, exaggeration intended. He’d been shot by the English, shot by the French, saved a man from a malfunctioning Mister Handy armed with a rifle, abandoned a sinking ship and survived, and, once, came out — in one piece, mind you — of a particularly bad bar fight. There are others. He’d be sure to spin the tales if you ever asked.

2. What are their vices? Do they want to improve upon them? Do they see them as bad things at all?

Tagging @desertbroad and @raiilsigns since you two asked this, too!

Sorry to disappoint if it’s boring, but Corrigan doesn’t have any vices save for pipe smoking, which has increased since his daughter’s death, and, perhaps, the drink, which has also increased, though he’s not and has never been an alcoholic. He doesn’t think of them as vices, but occasional means of relaxation, and so isn’t surrendering either any time soon.

Edmund’s vices: material goods, praise, and sex.

For the material, it’s mostly things that support his self-importance and give him power: medals that signify his accomplishments, in-style and high-end clothes. His uniform. Epaulettes. He also lives for approval and praise. Anyone who doesn’t think he’s a winner right off the bat is a threat against him and all his efforts, although he is more of a “work smart, not hard” kind.

For sex: he lacked meaningful, deep connections having built up a massive wall between himself and others, and rode off of the temporary pleasure and distraction sex brought even if it didn’t fill in this empty space where a genuine human relationship should have been. He hadn’t realized it for the longest time… at least the ‘genuine relationship’ part.

Edmund saw none of his vices as bad, either, but he was always aware that they didn’t quite fulfill him.

[corragain]

‘ your failures are just what happened — they don’t have to be who you are ’

poetry sentence starters (accepting; no need to reply if you don’t want to!)

Corrigan wished, almost badly, for the bottom of a glass. He wanted to burn his nostrils on whisky fumes and drink until he wasn’t sure if his ship was swaying or his world, here, three thousand miles from home, was teetering, rolling on the waters and capsizing hopelessly to unconsciousness. It was a gift, how resolute he could look in desolation. Dignified sadness.

A crucifix jut from the earth, the name Farley J.H. Everleigh scrawled on the board. One hundred men gone. One hundred. Corrigan stood straight and gazed quietly to the lapping waves.

“Is a man not the sum of his deeds? Lady Liberty?” he asked, low, raspy. It was not a question at all.

[corragain]

“Please stay. I’d like some company.”

Platonic Requests for Affection (Accepting) 

For a moment, they weren’t here. For a moment, he was tucked away some place at some dimly lit pub, the leather seats all ripping, the tables keyed and tallied, and the walls stained yellow, peeling, from cigarette smoke. There was chatter, too. No words, though. Just smears of whispers. And across from him, Keaton looming with his sandy hair and eyes hazel, dark as a funeral rite. Please stay, he’d say, the words like a secret on the tip of his tongue. I’d like some company. Corrigan would inhale dust and mold, then, taste barley, and in his head, a blurry thought: He could not picture this man capable of wanting anything but solitude and a shadow to call home.

He would stay, anyway, across the man with the burn on his cheek.

And here, not in Ship Anson’s, but anchored in Massachusetts Bay and bathed under the moonlight, he did.

“We are both,“ he rasped softly, “in dire need of companionship.” His smile was small like he wasn’t used to it. The cool air nipped his nose pink, and he exhaled, quiet, against the gunwale. "Though you’ve the pitiable half of this arrangement --- as you well know.”

From his coat, the captain brought out a matchbox. He lit Keaton’s cigarette, and if they were in that pub again, Keaton half-obscured by smoke, the image was safe and locked away in his head.

[corragain]

@mojavc asked (Platonic Requests for Affection | Accepting):

“My hands are shaking.” 

She must have thought they were gone. Sifting quietly, step by step, through the ashen shore... To see the windows black and void, empty as the soulless eyes of a beached animal... or to hear the silence trembling in her ears like the wind, soft, in a graveyard... or run her fingers along the dusty sidings of forgotten tables and rickety walls, looking desperately for an ink-stained letter, a holotape, a body...

Her hand trembled. It always did, he noticed, whenever she was too scared or too happy, too overwhelmed. He squeezed her shoulders and brought his head in closer. Only she would hear him.

“We are alive and well, Miss O'Kelly,” hushed Corrigan. The heat of his hand bled through her shirt. “Alive and well --- and returned to your safe keeping.”

[corragain]

' fate is a fucking lie ' // from wallace!

poetry sentence starters (accepting; no need to reply if you don’t want to!)

“An indubitable truth, no doubt.”

It came flat as an afterthought, through the nose, bitter. He hadn’t meant for it. Aboard the Terror, Captain Corrigan gazed out to the churning bay, a habit he’d never shaken, and heard, from below, their voices. They were his men. A handful of them, thin enough to blow apart like dust in the wind, were grouped together, cackling at a sun-bleached comic of some such barbarian. Something in his chest tightened, then. There, then sinking. 

He turned away.

“But that is not theirs to know. Allow them their share of fates and psalms,” he muttered, “so as to not leave them bereft of hope, and the despairing of it.”

[corragain]

‘ i’m sick to death of everyone telling me how strong i am ’

poetry sentence starters (accepting; no need to reply if you don’t want to!)

“Are you not, Eliana?“ His coattails folded as he settled beside her. There was a pipe in his mouth. Small puffs of smoke billowed out, one then two, and he shifted himself towards her, his eyes firm but steady as the moon; his voice, just as so. 

“You have survived, Eliana,” he told her, almost as a breath. “And while I’ve no mind to deem that so small a deed, I have found you to possess --- and in no equal measure --- that which men are inclined to be so deprived: Amiability... Tenderness of heart." He tried for a smile, then, rusty, sure. He pointed to her with his pipe. “That, of which I can find no greater joy.”

[corragain]

‘ children are not meant to die before their parents ’

poetry sentence starters (accepting; no need to reply if you don’t want to!)

Awareness comes to him like a ship taking water. She lingers behind him, he believes — his mind had been too adrift, floating about in the Massachusetts Bay, to discern much of anything — but he can’t turn to face her. She will glean everything off of him. Dissect him. He will find her eyes and drown in them like a man coaxed to the bottom of the sea and he knows, as well as he knows anything, that he won’t make it.

Corrigan snaps his compass shut. The photo inside disappears, too.

“They do,” he says with a nod. His voice is steady, but all wrong. “She has.”

[corragain]

1 and 14!

crucial muse development questions (accepting)

1. what would completely break your character?

At this point: losing all his men, as they’re the only reason he’s trying so hard to survive. They started out with some 105. By the time they reach America, they already suffer 85% casualties. It’s already chipped away at him. But if he were the only one to survive, it would leave him a complete and utter failure. These men and boys were all his responsibility and all looked to him in their time of need. They became his family.   

Since this blog is really its source material (show-wise) adapted to FO4, Corrigan’s story ends essentially the way the last episode did. All his men perish whether by outside forces like raiders, by disease, starvation, or radiation poisoning, and he resigns himself to exile because, to his reasoning, there is no redemption for him. His boys never got to go home and neither will he. When another party of the English Navy comes to retrieve Corrigan and his men years after the start of the expedition, they are unable to find any survivors, and Corrigan, hiding his survival from them, does not return home.

14. how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

Not so different. The great thing about Corrigan — or downfall, perhaps, depending on one’s viewpoint — is that he’s usually an open book. If he’s upset, you’ll know it. If he’s happy, you’ll know it. If there’s something on his mind, you’ll know it. He’s aware he’s a curmudgeon and surly, and doesn’t quite attempt to bite it back. He’s honest, frank and, by and large, what you see is largely what you get. The image he tries to project is the image he actually projects by virtue that he doesn’t try. He presents himself as he is with exception, perhaps, to hiding his exhaustion and pain so as to not lower his men’s pitiful morale. 

That’s what made him an attractive second to Rear Admiral Thomas Wright. Thomas was the charismatic, likable one; the one that rallied the men and boosted their sinking spirits. He, however, was full of hubris and made poor and questionable decisions. Corrigan is his opposite. Unlikable, sullen, the least charming man you’d ever meet, and not afraid to voice unpopular opinions, he is also very practical and rational, prioritizing his mission and his men above all else. He lacks ego (and is less modest as he was more prone to undervaluing himself). The Admiralty decided the two would balance each other out. 

Clearly, that didn’t work as planned.

[corragain]

6, 8, 9 for the development meme ! enjoy ur spaghet :)

crucial muse development questions (accepting)

6. what is your character reluctant to tell people?

Anything about his family.

His daughter is the most obvious one. It isn’t only about her disappearance, though. It’s everything. He doesn’t tell stories. Doesn’t talk about the little things she used to do. Doesn’t mention her brown eyes, her God-given love of the sea, how she always used to walk quickly over grates, scared she’d fall in. He used to talk about her, long ago, with stars in his eyes. People noted the change. 

His wife is the second. People say that they split after a violent fight; that after Amelia was taken by the sea, they’d torn their home asunder and only the laws of the land kept them destroying each other. The truth is far less dramatic and far less volatile. Corrigan withdrew and scavenged the sea for her, then to mend his weary heart, volunteered and departed for assignments whenever possible. Rosalie, lost of both of her greatest loves and unable to bear staying in the lonely confines of their house any longer, left while he was away.

They are his greatest grievances. Corrigan is not good with grieving. 

8. how many friends does your character have?

None. Three. Corrigan’s not a particularly likable man. He’s not volatile or cruel, but he can be prickly and he is prone to bitterness and unhappy moods. A dark cloud, they say, hangs over him all times at all hours of the day. (He is very competent, however, and as his crew would learn, very capable of extreme tenderness and kindness. So while he may have a soggy exterior, in crucial moments and to those close to him, he can very much shine).

His only friends are Navy men. The first he met on his first assignment aboard the RNS Spearhead to Ireland. The second was Rear Admiral Thomas Wright before their falling out. His third: Edmund Shaw. 

9. how many friends does your character want?

He doesn’t care for the quantity. What he has is what’s good for him. That’s not to say he doesn’t need friends, though. Despite his overall sour demeanor, Corrigan can and does feel lonely. Sometimes, in instances like “high society” get-togethers or his farewell party, he’s fully aware of just how unlikable he is and very often feels out of place or the subject of poor gossip… He also feels a bit betrayed — a slight possessiveness? — should a friend ditch him to mingle with others. 

[corragain]

cursed

two cursed parents chilling in a hot tub five feet apart because theyre co-running the sad middle-aged bi parents with missing kids committee.

[corragain]

“It’s okay to stay, you know.”

Platonic Requests for Affection (Accepting)

Night had fallen. The flame inside the oil lamp ebbed, the glass all fogged, and there was the low, faraway murmur of still-alive men and the crickets, unaware of everything, chirping in the patches of overgrown grass. Corrigan had gazed out the window. Thousands of miles of the Atlantic, vast and inky black in the night, churned between here and Portsmouth. He was thousands of miles from a salty dock, the seagulls calling overhead; from the taste of custard and apples and rock sugar, hard and sticky sweet, clinging to the root of his mouth; from the never-ending rain that got into everything and pooled deep at the bottom of his boots.

Morgan was quiet the way a keeper of a lighthouse was. Like she was alone, solitary, half-basked in the light. Her gray, knowing eyes always seemed to wash over him and he was hopeless to drowning in them.

“Perhaps a story is in order,” he breathed, the words labored and slow as he sat beside her, “of the day I’d asked for little Lydia’s hand… or stolen her Christmas pudding, as it were, not a day last.”

Her empty teacup rattled as he slid it aside. This time, the smile reached his eyes.