Every Man Has a Price

The arrangements are final.

I will be a married man as of Saturday.

By Admiral Norrington (commodore_jn)

( It passes time. )

INSTRUCTIONS
01. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
02. I respond by asking you five questions of a very intimate and creepily personal nature. Or not so creepy/personal.
03. You WILL update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
04. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
05. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Who worded this explanation, really?

Tell me a secret.

I am a businessman, the chairman of a mighty empire of a company and as such I am an accomplished liar and an expert at keeping secrets. There is a dark underbelly to all major businesses and the British East India Trading Company is hardly an exception to that; despite our darker dealings, the Company has managed to keep an impressive reputation. Why is this? you ask me. It’s quite simple, in all honesty: I work incredibly hard to sweep the flaws of my empire under the rug, away from prying eyes even as I parade its triumphs.

I know each and every bit of information about the company that I have looked after and nurtured into a force to be reckoned with, a power to rival (if not surpass) the King’s. I know every gritty detail and I keep each imperfection, each flaw that could bring me down carefully guarded beneath a lock and key far superior to the measures taken to protect the Heart of Davy Jones. The value of information is…invaluable, to say the very least.

These secrets will come with me to the grave, for business demands that I be an expert keeper of secrets.

However, my business life and my personal life are not always so perfectly entwined with one another. Generally I, Lord Cutler Beckett, do not keep secrets outside of my work. This is not because of any disillusion of honor or honesty as previously mentioned in a response by my colleague, Admiral Norrington, but because I simply do not feel I have anything to guard myself against. Those who know me know very well that I am blunt and straight-forward. I do not, and will not, give you the idea that I am anything less than what I am. I am not kind or compassionate, patient or thoughtful.

One does not get to where I am with benevolence. I clawed my way to the top with razor-sharp diplomacy and tactics befitting of the very scourge that I make a good deal of my livelihood hunting. I am ruthless, shrewd and unforgiving and I see no reason to hide it.

Why bother?

…This is not to say that I do not hold a few secrets. What man does not? But generally I am not one for secrets in my personal life.

Are you very certain you want to know? I warn you, it is hardly pretty: I meant it when I said I clawed my way to the top. My first stepping stone?

It was my elder brother’s dead body.

((So. Cutler and I are thinking about rejoining theatrical_muse. Opinions? Encouragements? Objections?))

La Coruna was the port chosen for the meeting between Elizabeth Turner, himself and Isabella and Lord Cutler Beckett did not leave a single detail unseen to. His own safety and his bride's could be at stake and he would not have that. A pistol and rapier were on his person, as per the agreement and he tucked Isabella's arm beneath his with care.

"Welcome home then, love. I imagine that after this little meeting we can move up and visit your family. You've been acting rather homesick." He said, turning his hawkish gaze about in search of Captain Swann and her ship.

I had nearly forgotten I owned this thing, truth be told. I've never felt the compulsion to keep my life's details and secrets locked away in a leather bound book. I do enough paperwork without having to keep a diary. However, in light of recent events I feel that now is the time to pen my memoirs. Death comes to every man eventually and I've no fear of passing on.

I've a fear of leaving nothing behind.

These writings will live on.

I will start from the beginning. With Jack Sparrow.

I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am not (contrary to popular belief) dead. The woman who pens my thoughts has simply tired of such a challenge as dictating for the ikes of me. I put an end to that right away.

I've returned. I daresay I've not missed anything important.

'What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.' Do you agree or disagree? Why?

What a charming sentiment, truly a nice thought. However, it sounds to me like an excuse, something a fussy wife would coo to her injured husband in a vain attempt to restore his pride. I do not care much for excuses, I am a man of action and the making of such explanations wastes time, which is far too valuable and limited in my humblest of opinions.

However, upon reflection I do believe that I agree with the idea. Man is constantly learning from his mistakes, improving himself. Surely no man can come back from facing down death and not remain unchanged. When one looks deep inside of themselves, surely each man who has anything worth living for dreads the idea of his death, and when meeting with it (and surviving, no less) one would certainly gain a degree of wisdom.

There is another quote: Knowledge is power. I rather live by the idea, I confess. True strength does not lie in your arms, in the barrel of your gun or the tip of your sword. True strength resides in your mind, it lies in knowing just what to do to best your opponent. It seems to me that the wisdom gained from a near death experience is near unsurpassable. You come back from such a thing changed, you live life now knowing just what you are afraid of. You know the ending, for yourself and your enemies. You know the ending and you have lived through it.

You are made stronger, without a doubt.

Just the same though, only a strong man could come back from death, I would imagine…