Player name:
R
Other characters written for by this player:
E-mail:
Favorite Quote:
"It's just a fleshwound"
Birthday:
January 29, 1765
Character's Full name:
Sir Philip Glynde, Baronet
Occupation:
former officer in his majesty's navy, owner of several hot-houses, in charge of his family's banking-establishments, above all: first-class rake, card-sharp
Physical Description:
Just short of six feet, the powerful frame of the baronet towered above most men of his time, save one Sir Percy Blakeney, to whom he looked up to, physically as well as otherwise. Philip's wild blonde hair reached just beyond his shoulders, most often tied neatly with a ribbon at the nape of his neck, as was the fashion. It was about as tame as his personality, however, for it refused to behave - a few strands would escape before long to curl rakishly over his brow. High cheekbones, and a well-defined nose, gave the young baronet a slight foreign look, taking after his mother's side of the family. The finely arched brows, so often raised in cynicism, shadowed the sparkling, at times ice blue eyes that identified him as pure Glynde, though they were the only feature that did so. Full, seductive lips, above the finely chiseled jawline were often the cause for many a lady's fit of the vapors with naught but the hint of a smile. Broad shoulders, and strong arms were well muscled by years of practise with the sword. His passion for riding was apparent in the strength of his legs. His unclad knees, and shins bear several scars, apparently of many small cuts, long since healed. All in all, the fashionably closely-tailored clothes of the time fit Philip Glynde well, and showed off a physique that was maintained well-toned by military training, and his favorite athletic hobbies.
Friendships/Relationships:
long-time best friend of Hastings; loyal, and trusted member of the league; former paramour of the lady Pauline Sinclair, damn her eyes!
Personal History:
Before Mildred Glynde passed on while giving birth to her second son in 1765, she was rumored to have had an Irish lover. Philip was never told the exact details of his birth, but the word 'bastard' followed him through his childhood, branded on him by his father, Sir Claybourne Glynde, Baronet, and Henry, his older brother. The child looked nothing like his sire, or his brother. Philip took after his mother in all things. Fair in personality as well as appearance, the child endured his remaining family's torment by learning, and exercising, a great amount of self-discipline and control. As Philip was all but shunned by his blood-relatives, he learned all he knew from their servants. He spent most of his free time in the stables, with the stablemaster, young Gerome Chilton, who came to care for the boy as though he were his own brother.
For many years, the only friend Philip could claim amongst his peers was the son of Lord Hastings. Most others ridiculed the boy for his appearance in second-hand cast-offs passed down from his brother. Seeing the boy's distress, Chilton took it upon himself to teach him how to do for himself in all things. During his early years, Philip learned all there was to know about horses, including stitching saddles, which lead to tailoring his clothes to his own slight form. He even learned to cook well enough to survive on his own from Chilton's aunt, Anna Herbert, who took the place of the mother he'd never known. Over the years, boxing and hunting were added to his lessons.
Seeing a Glynde - even one who's legitimacy was in question - day in and day out in the company of servants, the baronet insisted the boy learn more culture, and spend more time studying. Tutors were hired to teach such things as Latin, Greek Mythology, Italian, and French, among other things, surely superior to anything a servant could ever bestow.
Philip, under the tutelage of Gaston Tremaine, excelled at his studies of Mathematics, and the French language. He got along quite well with his teacher (to his father's consternation). Their friendship matured, and the youngest Glynde was overjoyed to eventually attend his tutor's marriage, some dozen years later, to a girl Philip considered as his sister. Mary-Anne, formerly a housemaid in the Glynde estate was quite happy with the match. A little over a year after the marriage, they declared Philip as god-father of their first-born, for making their union possible. When his cousin, and elder brother fell victim to an epidemic of smallpox in France, Gaston unexpectedly moved up to status of Marquis de la Fontaine. Chilton, to Philip's amusement, henceforth bragged no end about being directly related to a French Marquise. They were unwittingly repeating history, for the new Marquis's grandfather had been god-father to Philip's own mother.
At the age of 11, after much pleading, Philip was finally allowed to be sent off to learn to become an officer in His Majesty's Royal Navy. Military school was good to the lad. He learned all manner of weaponry. His favorite was soon apparent in the sword. Switching easily from right hand to left, he never lost a sword-fight. The pistol, however, was another matter. Philip soon lost his enthusiasm for shooting as a sport. His accuracy was unsurpassed, but he seemed a magnet for the led ball. Though he fought well, and a number of medals adorned his uniform, Philip Glynde was shot more than once in the line of duty.
It was while he was recovering from one of these wounds that the young man learned of his father's and brother's death. The news reached him on the continent, soon after Jacqueline de la Fontaine's Christening, nearing his 22cnd birthday. It was a boating accident, though there were rumors of something more sinister having played itself out at sea. Philip did not appreciate being settled with the title - though be it minor - and the responsibilities that came with it. He was loathe to leave the military, just when he was beginning to make a name for himself, without it having been attached to an ancestor first.
The businesses, successful as they were, in the form of banking establishments as well as some hothouses, had long since stopped pouring funds into the Glynde estate. None before him had much of an eye for figures. The new baronet was left with the task of sniffing out the problems, and setting them right. Quite a few purses ha become a bit too obese for mere accountants, and most of their owners mysteriously disappeared off the island...
As the success of his businesses began to finally show in his own accounts, where it belonged, Philip Glynde turned into a gentleman of leisure. With nothing to do, he soon fell prey to the fashionable ennui. He got bored of society, bored of life, and started getting into all manner of trouble to keep himself entertained. The young baronet would issue a challenge seemingly at the drop of a hat, though since most men knew of his reputation as a crack-shot, it usually went unanswered. Philip withdrew slightly from society, becoming more and more taciturn. His eloquence would only come to light in the company of a lady, otherwise, his remarks would be brief, and succinct.
Philip's new title demanded he take a wife, and produce an heir. He balked at this, keeping a mistress in every other town he visited more or less frequently while seeing to his business. One of these ladies was Pauline Sinclair, a young divorcee, shunned by the ton. His apparent affection for her grew until he decided to make her the next Lady Glynde. Since he was expected to take a wife, and produce an heir at some point, he settled on the mistress most apt at keeping his...attention. Lady Pauline, however, was discovered by Philip in bed with another - a man he hated profusely, for a great many reasons. The Irishman had grown rich 'working' at the bank, his uncle was the reason Philip had faced the word 'bastard' growing up, and his brother had been on the ship that day the late baronet Glynde and his eldest son met their doom. Possibly all that was a coincidence, but needless to say, this latest insult of bedding his paramour was the final straw...
Looking back on it, the pair should have carried Philip's gratitude for saving his reputation with their adultery, for had he indeed followed through on the idea he had toyed with, and married a divorced woman, his status in society would never have recovered. By being cuckolded before making his intentions known, Philip Glynde narrowly escaped becoming a pariah himself, and condemning any future descendants to the same fate. However, this fact would not become clear to him until his...pride...was quite healed.
Sir Philip Glynde, Baronet joined the league of the Scarlet Pimpernel for several reasons:
He was a decent shot.
He was an excellent swordsman.
His military training was to be put to good use.
His French was impeccable.
He saw his 'family', Marquise de la Fontaine, her husband, and Philip's own god-daughter taken by Madame Gilloutine, while standing, helpless, in the Square. After witnessing this tragedy, he needed something worthwhile to focus on to keep his deathwish from being fulfilled.
Character's connection to the League, or the Revolution:
Loyal member of the league, opposed to the revolution.
The Pivotal Questions:
What is your favorite word?
Yes (in any language)
What is your least favorite word?
Irish (if not immediately followed by the word 'Whiskey')
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
The sight of a well-tailored dress, fit to a petite shape, in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed; a winning hand; a brisk ride on his favorite mare
What turns you off?
The sight of a well-tailored dress, fit to a petite shape, in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed, while said petite shape the damned expensive gown was made for, is currently shagging an Irishman!
What is your favorite curse word?
Bloody (fill in here any curse ever uttered by a sailor)
What sound or noise do you love?
the sigh of disappointment of a losing opponent/ the sweet sigh of surrender escaping a lady's lips in the heat of passion. Either one signifies a moment of triumph
What sound or noise do you hate?
gunshots - target-practise is quite a torment these days.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
governess (ha ha ha)
What profession would you not like to do?
His own valet. If Glynde were ever in Chilton's position, he'd have murdered his lord years ago.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
The French, and the Irish have been banned, their liquor remains, and the ladies have been lining up for your pleasure.
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