𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚.

sir maxwell hunter. 32. the soldier. "my good opinon, once lost, is lost forever"

[sir-maxwellhunter]

NAME: Maxwell Hunter AGE: Thirty FAMILY TITLE(S): Sir Maxwell of London FC: Sam Clafin

Maxwell is part of the prestigious Hunter family, followed by a long line of Viscounty. However, that title was never in the stars for Max. After his studies, he took another path. He decided to honor his family by going into the military, just as his grandfather did before him. During his journeys he traveled the world, fell in love, fell out of love, and most importantly fought for his country. All was well for him...until the fateful battle. As he served as captain of his team, they were ambushed, leaving only Max...and causing him to have a bum leg. Unable to continue, Max was honorably discharged, and received a knighting from her majesty. However since his return to London...he has felt more and more empty. The guilt, the heartache, the depression he suffered, and now he walked with a cane to remind him. However he hides his shame with a smile as he escorts his cousins for the season...wondering what would happen next.

[sir-maxwellhunter]

Maxwell Hunter (aesthetics)

From the mornings you ease To the evenings you quiet I'm always thinking of you I'm always dreaming of you

[sir-maxwellhunter]

open.

it had been some time since michael hunter had return to london. surely he had been when he was knighted by her majesty after returning overseas, but surely it took some time from when he arrived years before, when he was a young soldier, before it all occured. but he was late to the season. he had to go back to oxford for medical reasons from his injury, so he had missed the women’s coming out as well as the first ball. so now that he was back, his family assured him to be at every other event. it didn’t help that michael still felt like an old man, no matter his military rank or looks. as he walked along london, limping with a cane, and still getting used to the cane. he was currently walking, his mind wandering yet focused on walking with the cane, wen his balance shifted and caused im to bump into somoene. “pardon me! i am not quite use to this stick yet!”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑.

thirty-two. the soldier. british army captain, from oxford.

michael was born to the hunter family in oxford, as the youngest son. he has always been somewhat second when it came to his family. growing up, they didn’t have much of anything. and his parents were always considered commoners for the most part, so living in the high society life never even crossed his mind.

it wasn’t until michael’s oldest brother found himself with education and wealth at 25. it brought his parents great joy, and he, just had to come along with it. though he was always more interested in traveling and writing more than anything, but it was hard for his parents to be proud. eventually, michael chose to join the british army at the age of 16, something his parents were very fond of. he grew during his time, became a highly ranked captain and even catching the eye of the queen, especially when he came home wounded. her majesty even knighted him when he came back. so when she had insisted he come and be a part of the season, his family made it hard to turn her down.

the season was something michael was very foregin with, when coming back. though his brother was very familiar, it’s how he found his own wife, and even brought his family more money. though from what he’s heard, just a line of desperate women looking for marriage, something that put a sour taste in his mouth. but it’s what was expected.

michael was wounded during battle, shot in the back of the leg. before then, he had just wanted to be his own person, and not worry about money or class like his family, but now that is what he thinks of constantly. after being honorably discharged, it was all he thought. of how he can make others happy. now he works for the army, more recruitment but gets very good money from it, almost as much as his brother, but being no longer on the feild has him feeling doubtful. he is very focused on his work and the others, and during the season, when he finds a wife, it will be for rank, class, hardley even love.

[sir-maxwellhunter]

PLEASE IGNORE BELOW

all posts below were from anothe roleplay, this will be starting a new! if you are not from lusts and lords rp, please unfollow, thanks!

[sir-maxwellhunter]

ixnay-on-the-ipshay​:

May 1799 | Bennetton Regatta Ball | refreshments table

There was a near-infinite number of things to keep track of during a ball: one’s own comportment, for certes – one’s dance card, for fear of offending a partner by tardiness – and then for him, the additional list of-of tasks.  The rumor to whet Whistledown’s, hrm, appetite to sow, for one. Keeping an eye out for the-the hairpins he had sent to-to Eira, his benefactress from the prior ball – as well as an eye out for that other, dark-haired acquaintance from the prior ball, but that one to avoid – her and her brother. 

One was also supposed to carefully track one’s imbibing, but with all that was going on – well, a spot of refreshment was certainly needed. As a reward, even, for having successfully accomplished Item the first on his list: returning Margot’s – Lady Braxton’s – shawl. 

“Beg your pardon,” he said absently as he perused the options on offer – variations on punch, it appeared – he would be skipping the lemonade this time –

The glint of candlelight off of what appeared to be, hrm, military honors caught his attention. Honors attached, it seemed, to the man by the table – ah. Well, of course there would be those from the regiments as well as the Navy represented here –  

He poured a glass – then offered it to the other man. 

“A drink is the least I can offer you, sir – for your service.” The words stuck in his throat – he cleared it, then bowed. “Captain Effingham, of the Navy – late of the Mediterranean fleet – pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

Accosting military officers had not been on the list, but he added it all the same.

@sir-michaelhunter​

michael had been absent-mindedly staring at the ball, standing by the bar, admiring everyone having a good time and was a much better sight than the battle ground than he was used to, a sight he had come to appreciate. suddenly a body had bumped into him, taking him out of his state. “my bad good sir...” he started, when he noticed the man was in uniform, a navy one to be exact. it was rare to see a serviceman during the season, at least that’s what michael was told, but it was great to see one besides himself, and he had even mentioned his service. “how did you....” he started, before realizing he saw his honors. “oh of course.” michael said seldomly before giving him a smile, before the gentleman revealed himself. “ah, pleasure is all my captain. general michael hunter.” he shook the man’s hand. “it is always gracious to meet a man of your stature. what brings you here might i ask?”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

dance 1: bridget

the first dance of the night, was something in the back of his mind he was very much dreading. mostly because of the cane he held in his hands, something that often terrified him, that he would look afool. “if i do no good, please tell me.” michael laughed as he escorted his first dance of the night to the floor. “i’m afraid this cane left me with hardley any experience.” he chuckled again as he held on to her and followed as best he could. “tell me miss umberville, how someone lovely as yourself come to be here?”

@regencyhearts​

[sir-maxwellhunter]

wcnderlcsts​:​

“Sir Michael Hunter,” Byron greets, with a beaming chuckle, emphasising on Michael’s newly minted title as he gives his friend a warm welcome. He has known Michael for a while now, with most of their time spent together overseas, that it seems almost fictitious that they are both in London. And attending the season no less. “Years? It’s only been, what— A month? Do not tell me I am become your sole provider of entertainment. That responsibility might prove too much weight for my shoulders to bear.” On the contrary, Michael’s presence is the very distraction Byron needs. There would be much to discuss, especially about present qualms but—forget about that. 

“You missed the punch, and I do not mean the drinking type.” He says, brow rising a fraction of an inch. “I’m glad you were not there to witness. I would not be able to live it down otherwise.”

“gracious, not you too.” michael rolled his eyes as his new title was emphasized, something all his friends, family and acquaitences have been doing these past days. “with that branded on me, i fear it’s all they anyone will see.” he shrugged giving his friend a big smile. “oh it was a mere exaggeration byron. it’s always good to see you.” he laughed, since seeing him last was when he was knighted, it felt like years though it was much shorter. “wait, you’re quite joking right?” michael looked at his friend strangely, at the thought. byron was more then a good friend to michael, it was impossible picturing him as otherwise. “surely there is no reason to harm you. might i ask why?”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

lucy-needham​:

When she blushed, she did it quickly, a sweep of rose over pale porcelain. Lucy laughed, disarmed. “I–” She paused, truly speechless. There were a dozen reasons, each at once more and less plausible than the last. But it was a question that she had also asked herself, late at night, when she stared at the gathered green velvet of her canopy. What did she want? And how could she find it? Lucy surrendered, shaking her head to the question with a soft: “That is very kind.”

Except it wasn’t only kind; it was honest. Earnest. And she appreciated those things more than simple kindness.

Lucy smiled. “You’ll meet so many friendly faces, Sir Michael.” Any sort of title with any sort of handsome smile was bound to assure a lively day, and he had both of those, and more, besides. “I will look for you, there.” She promised. “Perhaps we’ll meet at the ball. Have you tried a waltz yet?”

“you are very kind miss lucy.” michael had given her a smile, befe taking another sip of tea. just as she talked about the ball. “i certainly hope so, my mother is determined i wed off such as my brother.” he said, loathing the thought of him living up to his brother in anyway, but then she asked about the waltz, in fact something he was self concious about. with his new proufound cane, he was quite frightened at the thought of going without it. “yes...right...” michael started saying to him, before glancing at the cane next to him. and though the doctors promised his family he was well enough to dance with potentials for his wife, he was still scarcingly nervous. “that is something....i have not quite perfected i’m afraid.” he shrugged before looking back into lucy’s eyes. “i suppose i must be the jester of the men when the ball comes, no?”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

maryscotxx​:

Open Starter

“ I shouldn’t be seen with you…My  chaperone is around here somewhere. He was feeling a little…indisposed. “ Mary said with a cheeky smile, knowing perfectly well why her brother was feeling ill. 

“bloody hell.” michael cursed as he searched the empty garden for the pocket watch one of his men gave him in battle, he considers it somewhat of a lucky charm. though it was awfully hard with the cane. that’s when the attention of a woman nearby. his eyebrows rose as he looked over at him. “pardon me madame. i meant not to make uncomfortable.“ he said, shaking his head. “but if you would, i could use your help. i dropped something quite important to me, if you could possibly help me find it.“

[sir-maxwellhunter]

𝐰/ 𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐨𝐧.

it hadn’t been long since michael and byron had reconnected. since his knighting really. and after michael had a slight complication from his knee, it made him miss the queen’s ball. but now seeing his friend at the regatta, he was much happier to see his face. “st clair!” he announced  as he walked up to his good friend, giving him an embrace. “feels like years old friend.” he smiled, looking face to face. “shame i missed the beginning of the season with you, but always a pleasure.” he laughed comically. “do catch me up, since i saw you last. how was the queens ball? anything different?”

@wcnderlcsts​

[sir-maxwellhunter]

mountainmarquess​:

There was a pack of cards on the table. Someone had left it all alone. Isaac ran his thumb across the rim of his glass cup and watched the pack of cards for a few minutes. 

People passed by. Someone giggled. There was idle chatter. 

And the cards just sat there.

Leaning forward, he claimed the cards and shuffled through them, admiring the designs on the back. These were nice. Glancing around, he spotted the basket that had previously contained all of the foodstuffs that were now on the table. No, too big. There was a bucket not too far away. That was better.

Isaac got up, wound around the other passengers, and picked up the bucket. When one of the deckhands tried to say something to him, he just smiled and kept walking. Back at the table, he plucked the bucket down at the far end, settled back in his lounge chair, and picked up the pack of cards. He flung the first one. Miss. Another card spun from his fingers. Miss. The next one hit the lip of the bucket and fell in.

He tossed a few more, until one of the other men sat down in the chair beside his.

Halving the deck, he held it out to the blond fellow. “Want a go?”

@sir-michaelhunter​

michael had stayed quite idle when it came to the boats, he chatted with few faces he knew, but felt it be hard when talking to new ones. of course there was byron and others, but ever since the accident, he had found it quite hard to talk to other men. luckily for him, opportunity sprung himself when a fellow gent caught his attention with a deck of cards. he walked over and sat beside him. “but of course.” michael smile taking his hand out. “michael hunter, it’s a pleasure.” he said, shaking his hand, before eyeing the deck of cards. “tell me fellow, what is your game? i, myself, have never been the best at card games.” michael lied through his teeth, though he didn’t need to know that.

[sir-maxwellhunter]

isabella-aldwyn​:

”Well then I must engage in more mischief, Mr. Hunter, if it means we will encounter each other more.”  It did not escape her how his hands were warm against her. Big and strong. Eyebrows quirked up at the man. “Or are you a guardian angel. Have you been sent to watch over me, sir? Because I think I will exhaust you very soon.” The daring cadence in her voice was unmissable, and she stepped down from the edge, hand resting on his arm briefly to steady herself. Her gaze followed Michael’s across the waves, she squinted again to see if she could see more, but her vantage point worked against her. And her medium height. “I was looking for my brother who is on another barge. I thought I saw…the lady who left him broken-hearted. But perhaps I am imagining things.” Gripping the sides of their peachy boat, she sighed worriedly. “If she truly has returned, my brother will be so very upset.” 

“certainly there cannot be MORE michief with you, miss aldwyn.” michael said almost cheekily while giving her a smile. “in fact if i was your guardian angel, looking after you would be quite the challenge.” he said, laughing at his own joke. though isabella seemed to be still fixated on looking at her brother and a woman who left him broken hearted. “yes, i know of the feeling...” he said subtly, remembering running into his own flame from years ago. though he didn’t want to dwell on the past too much. “might i show you something? to keep your mind clear.” he said, bringing out his portable telescope from his coat pocket. “you can take a peak to enjoy how the horizon sets....or simply get a better look at your brother.”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

lucy-needham​:

He was kind in a way that was rare in London: when he spoke, she believed that he meant it. So she considered it, for the briefest moment, rising from the sofa and leading him down the long hallway, past the winding staircase, nearly to the kitchen, but instead banking right and opening the door to the sun-lit room at the back of the house where another painting was drying. This one, of soft, brunette hair and bright, doe eyes. A cluster of stars held in human form.

But instead, he spoke, and she listened, lips parted in the smallest smile. 

Have you debuted?

Lucy laughed. “Yes, I– yes. Um. Not this year–” And that, of course required some explanation. “I spent last year away from London, traveling. So I’ve debuted before, but I am also new.” Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, as though balancing the math. “Sort of. In a way.” 

A small blush caught in her cheeks, and she was glad to skip away from the messiness of it. “Oh! Are you coming to the regatta? Do you– well, do you like sailing? They hold it every year. Do come.”

it was quite surprising to the words lucy said next, especially to michael. “pardon my assertiveness....” he started, turning himself to face her fully. “it is just hard to imagine you have not found a husband during your debut. even years ago, i would think when you were presented to society, you would be married in a second. you are beautiful, talented, sweet, do forgive me if i am making you uncomfortable.” he said giving her a sweet smile, as she mentioned the regatta, something his mother mentioned in passing as well. “of course! sailing has always been a good pass time, especially as an army man.” he laughed a bit. “though this will be my first time so i do hope to see a friendly face as yourself there.”

[sir-maxwellhunter]

isabella-aldwyn​:

Bella let out a laugh, relief apparent that she had not offended him. Not that she worried of this often. However, she had been in quite enough trouble recently that she was biding her time. Knowing that both harry and her mother had their nerves about, she was careful to lay low and refrain from causing some worry – for now. Well she tried to, at least. In front of this man, she had a powerful feeling that her self-control would be put to the test, her curiosity piquing as to why she felt like this face lived in her dreams. “A past life, sir? And what relation do you think we had in our past life?” She questioned with a coy smile. Needing to distract herself from her own daring, she shook her brown locks before brushing a strand behind her ear. “Isabella Aldwyn, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Attention returned to the locket, Bella stepped closer to bend down to take in the details. “It is a beautiful locket, but it is not mine. May I?” Her hands opened up in front of her, eyes alight with a sudden energy. “Perhaps if we open it, I may know the owner amongst the Ton.” 

the girl in front of michael seemed to be quite interesting. in the most familiar way, as if he has thought about her before, though he could not put his finger on it. “perhaps....a friend. old friends. i’m not sure, but you have quite the familiar face, though it’s anyhting but ordinary.” he smiled down on her. and then she said her name. isabella. yes. in fact he did remember. one of his first times as a young soldier in london, a girl, not much younger than he, was falling down from a tree, and he caught her just in time. she said her name, before she fled. and though her name escaped him, he never forgot the face. even as she took the locket to open, it was somewhat in awe. “isabella.....had you happened to fall out of a tree some years ago?” he questioned. “i suppose it sounds silly and quite fantasical....but i think i caught you.” he kind of hoped because it was starting to sound a bit creepy.

[sir-maxwellhunter]

michael hunter & isabella aldwyn

Let the truth be revealed Admit what you've lost And live with the cost At times it does hurt to be healed Catch me, I'm falling Faster than anyone should

          - next to normal

@isabella-aldwyn

[sir-maxwellhunter]

michael hunter & byron st clair

“Lying, thinking Last night  How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone I came up with one thing And I don't believe I'm wrong That nobody, But nobody Can make it out here alone.”

          - Maya Angelou

@wcnderlcsts