"You mustn't let mistakes weigh you down.
Acknowledge them and take what you've learned to move on.
That is the privilege of being a man."
- Full Frontal
BASICS
RETIRE INFO: Adopt if Angelo is in play. Retire if not.
NAME: Monty
GENDER: Male
PRONOUNS: he/him/his
ORIENTATION: pissy, prissy shitlords Those that don’t fully show their belly.
BIRTHDATE: Summer, 2735
AGE: 32, as of 2767
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Dragonrider, Searchrider, angelospanker
WING: Midnight
APPEARANCE
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Blond, riotous
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 6' 5", broad and well muscled
PLAY-BY: Full Frontal (Gundam Unicorn)
FULL APPEARANCE: Monty is certainly an impressive male specimen. Or at least one you’re likely to notice. Not only is this bronzerider tall, wide of shoulder, and strong of limb, but he has presence. The sort of presence that makes you sit up and take notice. Commanding. It is in the straight shoulders, and easy, arrogant stride. The way he looks at you as if he can see right through your skin and take a long look at your person. The dispassionate, icy blue gaze that smirks without sneering.
He is well dressed. Favoring reds and bold schemes. While not quite as immaculate as his weyrmate, Angelo - as no one could be - he is well put together. Monty’s hair is bright and tends to curl, especially at the ends. It refuses any method of taming, and is probably the one thing that keeps this strong jawed, square faced man from looking like he was carved of stone instead of flesh.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY: Monty is arrogant without being prideful or boasting. His is the cool assurance of someone comfortable in their skin. A born leader. Capable and calm headed, not needing all the flash and bang others may require to get their point across. Monty has no need to brow-beat. He is right. The choice is simple. Listen or fail. He is compelling in a way that is well thought and well spoken. He does not snarl nor yell, he has no need. There is force in the modulation of his voice. Not soft spoken, but steel wrapped in velvet.
Monty has aspirations. Not only for himself but for his Weyr - and beyond to all the Weyrs of Pern, and the people beholden to them. He is fair, and recognizes that fair does not always mean equal. That while two wrongs may not make a right, the right sort of wrongs can turn a bad situation better. That strength leashed not by virtue but by will, understanding and knowledge can be the greatest, most effective weapon of all. One could call Monty conniving. Or perhaps manipulative. He is all too good at using people for what they are best at. Positioning them like pawns on a chessboard and forgetting that they are also people. Living, breathing creatures with lives of their own. He sees them more for their skills and abilities - their possibilities. It can cast a pall on his more personal interactions. Making him perhaps a touch cold, removed, or emotionally unavailable. He forgets often to live for the now instead of the future. For this reality, this moment, rather than the one he sees on the horizon.
Monty often appears ignorant of Angelo’s devotion. As if he does not notice the pale shadow that dogs his every step or the extreme protectiveness the bluerider seems to exhibit. But Monty is aware, though he has come to accept that this is now his life. At first he gloried in the freshly searched boy’s hero worship, and then grew worried when it did not pass, fearful he’d done something to stunt Angelo’s growth. But time has proven this otherwise and Monty has grown comfortable with his weyrmate’s almost singular devotion. As for his feelings toward Angelo? No other has crossed his threshold much less graced his bed. Monty has found it no hardship to belong to Angelo, and the task of loving the temperamental albino is one he revels in.
HISTORY
FAMILY: Fort Weyr
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Angelo, oreviously of blue Gearath / Tuckal
BIRTHPLACE: 7th Layer of.. Oh wait. The inner rings of.. No. Not that either. Fort Weyr.
HISTORY: Monty was born as many are in the Weyrs of Pern. A weyrbrat. Bred and birthed with little thought, left to the creche for raising with little knowledge of who is parents were. The Weyr was his family - and to Monty, that meant something. He was solemn, watchful boy who toed the lines of the rules without every crossing them - at least not when he was likely to be caught. He often wrangled the other weyrbrats, rarely resorting to his fists to get them to go along with his plots and ideas.
His fifteenth year was a disappointment. Though he was chosen to Stand, he failed to Impress. Monty accepted the failure and moved on, Standing again and again without remorse or malice. He was on the verge of seventeen when he Impressed. A glittering bronze - whose hide was like gilded mahogany - selecting him from the press of boys, flaring his egg-wet wings at the others and scattering them. Yes. Sinanjuth had declared simply. The pair trained intensively. Monty would allow none to interrupt class with foolishness and he and Sinanjuth chewed their lessons between one and the next. The were a hardworking pair. Frighteningly diligent and always after more. More knowledge. More skill. More more more.
The bronze displayed a penchant for picking boys fit to Impress, though he seemed to have a blank spot for girls. None every drew the bronze’s attention. The Interval War had barely ended when Monty irrevocably changed someones life - and his own. Sinanjuth brought them to a small cothold within Ruatha’s borders. Monty was surprised by the bronze’s choice, thinking the cothold too small to hold anyone of interest, or anyone willing to be searched. But Sinanjuth and Angelo showed Monty a fault in his logic that day. Him. Sinanjuth decided, kneeling to allow the boy to climb up into Monty’s arms. And it was rare for Angelo to be far from those arms after that day. Not that Monty minded much, savoring the pale flesh and enjoying disheveling the perfectly quaffed hair.
War came. And the pair proved to be more than capable fighters. Both were absolutely ruthless, neither displaying remorse at slaying other dragons and their riders. There was no hesitation. No question when it came to landing the killing blow nor flaming another pair from the sky. To protect their family? Blood was a simple enough price. Straightforward and honest. Angelo and Gearath were weyrlings during Monty’s battles, and the bronzerider allowed Angelo to attend his wounds at the end of the day should his chores be done and his blue taken care of. He did, however, require the albino to recite the weeks lessons, supplementing when he had something useful to add. It was mostly, however, a distraction tactic, to keep Angelo from brooding or doing anything foolish. The war is over now though. The mad gold dead and her bronzed defeated. Angelo and Monty face a new foe. Thread. And stand on a new battlefield - the path to the future.
UPDATES
- 2765: Sinanjuth catches Serapheth, making Monty Weyrleader. Serapheth's first gold daugher is hatched from their clutch. Shortly after he is disposed by Istans.
- Fall, 2768: Monty is scored on the arm during Threadfall.
