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| Frederick St Montgomery; RN 'Commodore' | |
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| Topic Started: 17 May 2008, 09:08 PM (119 Views) | |
| Aztec Gold | 17 May 2008, 09:08 PM Post #1 |
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Username: Frederick St. Montgomery How did you find out about AG: One day I was walking home from school when I was accosted by a robot zombie pirate ninja. He managed to take off with my bag, and all my homework. I didn't consider it much of a loss, so I walked home, and went on the internet to screw around. I got an odd instant message saying that at midnight I would receive something important. So around midnight I went down to the side door and looked out...and there stood Captain Kirk. He handed me his backpack saying that they had recovered it on the Enterprise, when they had captured a band of Orion pirates. So I was about to sleep with him when another Kirk appeared saying that he had to prevent a mistake from occurring that would result in the destruction of all humanity. So he dragged himself off, and left me with his business card, which coincidentally has the link to AG. Given Name(s): Frederick / William Surname: St Montgomery / Barret Nickname: N/A Age: 42 Sex: Male Ethnicity: English Country of Birth: England Current Whereabouts: Port Royal Occupation: RN Officer ; Captain of HMS Dauntless Former Occupation(s): Parents: John St Montgomery (father), Mary Barret (mother) Siblings: Frederick and John (half brothers), Mary, Jane, Sarah, Elizabeth, Victoria, Evelyn, and Megan (half sisters) Children: None that he will acknowledge Avatar: David Warner Description: St Montgomery is a tall stately man, with sun-bleached blonde hair starting to turn a dignified silver at the temples. He sees no need to wear a wig, preferring his own natural hair and its color. He keeps it at shoulder length and tied back with a black ribbon. He has cold, calculating, black eyes and a round face. His forehead has acquired some wrinkles showing his age, and his thin mouth is most often in a frown, when it is not busy articulating obscenities about all those around him. He has a slight limp in his left leg, a result of an old wound gained in the service of his country. Despite this limp he is surprisingly quick, especially during battle, when he simply grits and ignores the pain. He wears the uniform of a navy post captain over three years, always keeping it neat and perfect--his black boots polished, no wrinkles in the blue coat at all, the buttons all shiny on it and his cream-colored waistcoat, and his breeches spotless. He is more particular about his appearance than most, having a great aversion to anything that can be slightly construed as sloppy or messy. Personality: St Montgomery is a powerful, domineering man, not content until he is in complete control. His childhood left him with many issues that he has yet to overcome, instead allowing the insecurities guide his every decision and action. He is not content with what he has, he always wants for more, and takes an instant dislike to those who have more than he--whether it be material like wealth, or something more abstract like power or happiness. He is not one who takes orders well, especially if they come from people he has contempt for--which comprises of most of the commissioned officers in the Navy. He will do his best to do the minimum amount of work, or to barely follow the orders, and feels free to interpret his orders as he wishes, causing friction between him and others he has to work with. He is a cruel commander, as likely to chew a person out for following his orders, as he is to flog them for not following his letters to the letter. He is a man of great hypocrisy and contradictions. He was a bastard child, not acknowledged by his father—and he detests this sort of actions in others, yet he has had several children, and refuses to acknowledge them. He has nothing but contempt for the idea that men can be born of a higher class than others and that that will enable them to be better men, and better leaders, yet he does not trust people to be able to lead themselves, nor does he place much value in the common sailor or marines skills or abilities. Some of his opinions could be quite revolutionary—as he does not like to follow the status quo, but when speaking he would be one of the first to defend it. Strengths & Weaknesses: Strengths -- St Montgomery, is nothing if not a cunning and intelligent man. He is able to see a situation as it is--understand the causes that brought it to that point, and the possible ramifications of any actions taken, and even better than that...he is able to see how it can be used to his advantage. He's also physically intimidating despite his advancing years, with enough strength to give an opponent pause. Weaknesses -- Hubris. It is St Montgomery's greatest weakness and sin. Flattery can get you far with him--if your appeal includes enough simpering and deference to himself. St Montgomery also is guilty of having a one track mind--he will focus on one thing--one concern or goal to the exclusion of others often, and sometimes, despite the fact that he would usually recognise warning signs, or how a situation might change, he will ignore it, so engrossed is he in the task at hand. He is a man of few acquaintances, no friends, and many enemies. If he lands in trouble, there is no one he can turn to for support, or to truly trust. He rules through fear, and as such, only trusts people to do what he wants them to when they have reason to--fear, or no other way of getting out of following his commands. If the opportunity ever presented itself to an enemy or reluctant ally...many might not hesitate at the change to put a knife between his ribs. History: William Barret (later known as Frederick St Montgomery) was the illegitimate son of a wealthy merchant and his maid. When he was old enough to realize that he was being raised by only one parent, instead of the two that so many others had, he asked his mother where his father was. She told him the truth, a decision which...if it had been different, may have easily ended with this man being known as William Barret, and not Frederick St Montgomery. The merchant, John St Montgomery, had other children, two sons and seven daughters by his wife—all Frederick’s half-siblings. Frederick as he was growing had seen how those, like his brothers, were given an education and anything they wished, simply because their parents were wealthy. He saw how that they were treated differently than he, simply because they were acknowledged by their father. As he stayed close to his mother when she worked, he was able to see now, that just because he had a different mother than those children, he was not entitled to the same treatment.. And not only was he was treated as worth less that his siblings, but as less than any of his friends or those who should be on the same class as him. It was a difficult lesson for a child. Anything he wanted, he had to find a way to get it for himself. If he wanted new clothing, he had to steal it himself, or “convince” other kids to give him some of their stuff, if he could not afford it. He had to be careful to hide it from his mother, who, while she could not afford to keep both of them fed and clothed, made it quite clear that she would tolerate no such immoral behavior from him. When he wanted to learn to read and write, he had to barter with a friend to get them to teach him. He did the boys chores, and in turn was taught to read and write—skills that opened up a way to gaining much more knowledge. When he was fourteen, he was hired on at his father’s house to assist the groundskeeper. He worked there for a full year—seeing what he had been missing out on all the time, and the knowledge made him bitter. He gradually became obsessed with his father’s other family—the legitimate one. He starting spending more time there than when he was just working, sometimes sneaking there to watch through the window what was going on at night. One night when he was watching though, he was spooked and dropped the candle he held in his hand, and it landed catching in the dry garden next to the house. A few weeks of long sunny days had done their job drying out the leaves and twigs, and the garden caught on fire quickly, jumping to the house, its dried timber catching on fire as well. Frederick could barely see through the smoke and the inky black night, fleeing away as fast as he could. The next morning he heard that everyone—his father, his half-siblings, the wife—they had all died in the fire—trapped and unable to escape. While no one suspected him, in his mind, every glance at him was filled with suspicion, every question was an accusation. Finally, he could take it no more and he fled from his home leaving everything that he owned, little as it was, behind him, and his guilt as well. He had no food, and had to live off of what he could beg or steal, though he was good with neither, and went hungry more often than not. While he had been able to “convince” children his age to give him some of their stuff, those skills were of no use to him now. He was much smaller than most of the men he had met—not in height but certainly in terms of mass. He had no home, nor shelter, and spend the long, dreary, and rainy days outside, crouched under a piece of ragged cloth that served as a cloak. He took ill, and between the lack of food, and the weather it was a wonder that he had not become sick sooner. And that was what the doctor who found him and saved him told him later. For weeks he had been sick, delirious with fever, when he had finally waken he was told the circumstances of how he was found. The doctor who had rescued him was very curious as to his identity, and what he was doing so far away from his home. Frederick saw this as his opportunity, his big chance. He told the man who his father was, claiming the identity of one of his father’s legitimate sons, praying that word of them, or all of their deaths had not reached the doctor. Fortunately for him, his ruse worked. His father had influence outside of the town where he lived, and by some happy chance, was known to the doctor who rescued Frederick. He used his father’s connections to secure what capital was left in his father’s name. He realized that he had little knowledge of what to do with the money, no skill in investing it, and no skills himself, and very little status besides what came with his name. To that end, to gain better connections, as suggested by the doctor, he joined the Royal Navy as a Midshipman—since he was not going to be able to purchase himself a very high rank at all in the Army. Slowly he rose through the ranks, initially thinking that his advancement would be based solely on skill, but he saw the politics involved in gaining a promotion were based much more off of who you knew, and who had the status. Others who had connections were always being promoted over him--one Lieutenant (much later on)—a James Norrington who served on the same ship as him, and the brother of an influential lord, was promoted to captain before himself, a travesty in his mind because he had little doubt that he was the more able seaman of the two. He was promoted to captain eventually, after Norrington, and began using his new status for more questionable activities—smuggling in prizes taken in battle, the more lucrative ones of course, not all, for if he had done that it would have aroused too much suspicion. Once Norrington was promoted to Commodore, with the assurance that he would be given a flag rank soon, St Montgomery went berserk. He went out of his way to cause trouble for Norrington, and make the man's life more difficult. He began writing letters to the Admiral in Kingston, anonymously, detailing all the errors that the man did. He went so far as to try and hint that the Commodore and one of the lievtenants under his command were carrying on a relationship in defiance of the law and the Articles of War. He was lucky to survive through the Mutiny of the Marines, though not with his pride intact, but it served as an unlikely boon to his quest to see Norrington ruined. Through information regarding the Mutiny, as well Norrington's role in the escape of Jack Sparrow, he was able to have Norrington removed from his position permanently, or so he thought. As the next highest ranking officer, with the oldest commission, he was given temporary command of the squadron as Commodore, and hopes that that flag rank that was due Norrington, will find its way to him any day now. Sample/Past Roleplay: From the thread To the Highest Reaches There is a belief that there is an order to the world--that one can occasionally climb the ranks, as if they were the rungs of a ladder, until one has reached the top and is able to gaze down upon the gathering masses, content in the knowledge that he has reached the height, the pinnacle of all earthly ambition. That there is some set point, at which it ends, and there is no more to be gained. This pinnacle can be many things--it can be death, it can be assuming the throne of a country, it can be feeling contented in knowing that one's family is strong and flourishing, and that one's name shall live on for a while. The pinnacle is defined by those who have reached it--or often by those who strive, but fall just short of their intended goal. Most men do not reach this pinnacle, because their own goals are so provincial as to barely merit any sort of introspection--goals like living from day to day, finish reading a book, or making ends meet. Those are no doubt fine goals for those who set them, but it takes a special sort of person of character and ambition to look further ahead--to be able to define and articulate what it is they want, and to set out after it. While, by no stretch a good or decent man, simply a man, St Montgomery is one of those with that drive and ambition to succeed. One of those who can look ahead. A man who can see and recognise cause and effect for what it is, and take advantage of it to manipulate it into assisting him in his pursuit of his goal. There had long been obstacles on his journey up that ladder--being a bastard child, having to hide that fact and adopt the name of one of his half-brothers, men who had better connections than he, men with more skill than him, men who had the birthright to climb that latter. A birthright. How St Montgomery detested that word with every fibre of his being. An implication, that because one had the fortune to be born to a family of wealth, or good blood...that suddenly they were better than all the rest, with no tests nor trials to prove that they were able to climb that latter. He'd undergone trials, tests of his ability, he passed the lieutenants' exam all on his own. He'd never been a man of excuses for himself, or his behaviour, his mistakes, just as his triumphs were all his own. He was his own man. And oh, how so many times had he come into conflict with those who had a birthright. Had he fought against them, worked to undermine them, cursed them, and hated them. They--the living examples of the injustice in who could climb that ladder. St Montgomery was no, borrowing a phrase from ahead of his time, republican. He didn't think that everyone could climb that ladder. But there were those with the ability to, who shouldn't be denied that chance simply because their father was married to another woman. It was his secret. And he hated himself for it--more than he hated the others for his birthright. He was proof--he could prove that a man needed not his parents to be of good blood in order to succeed. Or that one needed parents of the same skill to succeed. Yet, here he was, living out the lie that one did need that. A contradiction, a painful one. A hated one. But that pinnacle, those highest reaches that he so wanted, were in sight now--the men who had blocked him now removed. His victory in sight. All he had to do was take the next rung, and pull himself upward to that dizzying height that made him, not just a man, but a man at the peak of the order. A man respected for his abilities. A man given his due. The men of the fort might mock him, insult him further with their pathetic notes--desperate cries for help and attention, but he would not grant it any longer. He was above them, with a mission far more important than just running the fort. He was proving himself worthy. Worthy of the immortal fame that he could see at the top. Perhaps though, it would have been best for him to remember...that the higher he climbed, the more uncertain and tenuous his position. And that immortal fame is easily infamy for those who fall from the highest heights. St Montgomery smiled at the office of his predecessor. Norrington had fallen from the heights, now it was time to prove that he would have the surer footing. Answer here if you give permission for a link to exist on the website to your bio: Yes...I give myself permission to put up a link to my bio...or whatever staffer may beat me to it. |
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2:19 PM Jan 9