For Weatherby respect is more of an art form than it is a feeling he genuinely prescribes to toward most of whom he claims to hold in high regard. Respect is rather like a dance – there are many motions involved, but none of them really go anywhere. It all stays in one ever growing circle of customs and expectations, rules and manipulations.

Weatherby has mastered the game of respect much like one might master the game of shogi – he knows his expected etiquette and the plays required in order to continue to climb the social ladder or maintain a particular position. It is not that he particularly cares for his company or even the rules of engagement he has to adhere to, so much as he recognizes the strategy inherent in upselling or downplaying one’s interest in the endeavours of others.

That is not to say Weatherby does not genuinely admire others for their accomplishments – rather, it is those he is expected to respect who have done little to earn it that gain the hallow mastery rather than the true article. Those he comes to fully appreciate he must work hard not to favor over much – and in some of these cases he fails abysmally.

Case in point: James Norrington.

Weatherby’s favoritism toward the young and clever naval officer is made abundantly clear by the ridiculous amount of showmanship surrounding the man’s promotion to commodore. Typically speaking such a promotion is not only temporary, but hardly celebrated in such a grandiose fashion –  however, Weatherby dotes upon James as he would his own child and this much is made even clearer by his commission of a newly made sword in honor of the occasion.

These displays of affluence and open preference are thankfully very rare from Weatherby; in fact there are only four people in the world who can boast to being so willfully catered to in every way. His wife, whom he showered with affection and ridiculous displays of grandeur even after they were married for no other reason than to surprise and charm the woman he adored above all others; his daughter, his niece – and his son of heart, if not blood. But this goes beyond respect, and simply into how Weatherby displays his affection and adoration when societal practice dictates he keeps the poetry and heartfelt praises close to his chest.

Weatherby has the patience of a saint for most things in life – though in others, his fuse can be dangerously short. Operating as both a political savant and a single father, he learned to balance his time well and to always make room for disaster. This has in turn afforded him the capacity to be relatively calm in most domestic dramas and to maintain an affable air no matter the situation at court.

This seeming ability to weather any storm with an unflappable sense of calm assisted in the elevation of his status over time; in most cases that could be predicted, Weatherby was well suited to his position. However as he was never known to cause offense enough to warrant a duel and his general role tended to be well clear of any warfare, his patience for it was something of an unknown element.

One he quickly discovered was not a lasting one. Weatherby abhors violence and is in fact a lamentable coward. Pain terrifies him and frankly he would rather avoid it – both in himself and in those around him if he can manage it. He encourages battle to be swift and tends to get tetchy when expected to oversee anything too closely.

Though he will do all he can to keep face when he must – at the end of the day Weatherby has neither the stomach, the strength nor the patience to last long in a battle scenario and will either look to another for guidance or will find a way to get out of sight and out of mind until it is all over. 

Weatherby on his own is not a frightening man – but with the power at his disposal, the areas in which his fuse runs short often tend to prove deadly. He is utterly unforgiving toward bandits and thieves, to the point he will not hesitate to have them hung the moment they are seized.

Though this did bleed out toward pirates as well more often than not, Weatherby actually maintained a somewhat more lenient stance toward them what with his familiarity with certain unsavory Naval practices. No – Weatherby’s hatred focused specifically upon men who preyed upon those on land alone, though the source of that hatred is its own story.

He also lacks all tolerance for those who would abuse women, at least in any public manner or way that could be proven. Though he is distantly aware of the sufferings of many wives, he has no power in those situations – but a man who would strike a woman on the streets of Port Royal may well find himself strung up on charges he never committed, solely to get him off the streets. Permanently.

Violence of this kind is beyond the pale in Weatherby’s eyes. In truth it is often quite triggering for him to witness, and his response is therefore exacerbated exponentially by his own emotional distress toward matters. Hardly an acceptable reason to essentially use one’s power for murderbut, here we are.