- "A fisherman's life's a hard one; but where else are you gonna get all the thrill of sitting on your ass whistling a shanty in the pissing rain, eh?"
- ―Allan Scott
|Date of birth:||2245|
Unelected representative of fishermen in Ewing Bay
Allan Scott is perhaps one of the most well-known figures of Ewing Bay, serving as an unelected and informal representative of the townsfolk to make demands on behalf of them and the burgeoning local fishing industry, the latter of which he has mostly been attached to his entire life. Despite an outwardly and publicly noted air of respectability and moral repute, Allan has taken part in many unsavoury actions in his life; everything from aiding and abetting smugglers to ignoring the obvious trafficking of slaves and narcotics. Despite all this, Scott himself justifies these actions with a "greater good" mentality, though he also accepts the financial success that this produces as another justifiable reason to partake in these affairs.
Born in 2245 into a family of traditional fishermen, Allan Scott found himself the youngest of three brothers and the only one to achieve a full and proper education throughout his early formative years, thought most of this consisted merely of basic reading and writing, the former which of said topics was largely undertaken by himself so he could read the magazines that so appealed to him. His education ultimately lasted until he was six years old, whereupon it was quickly cancelled following the death of the second eldest brother from a particularly lethal case of tuberculosis. The young Scott, prior to this rather tragic event, had only ever so slightly dabbled in fishing; his father would have to teach him everything he would later come to take for granted through years of fishing excursions, first onto the Harbour and then out onto Vermillion Bay, most of which consisted of the young Scott making numerous mistakes and receiving a firm-handed, both figuratively and literally, response from his father. By the age of thirteen, through the firm hand with which his father ensured a generally high performance from his son, Scott had become a proficient fisherman, trusted by most other fishermen within the community as a generally useful deckhand to have present on most fishing excursions out into the bay and into the swamps, though the latter of these excursions mostly favoured more aged and seasoned fishermen. A further-year-and-a-half of training, largely undertaken in exchange for a sacrifice in pay, and Scott was still very much considered only for deck-hand duty in his quite fresh career in the burgeoning fish industry; the only thing that had him stand out amongst the numerous other young fishermen, turning to the only real industry and career path in town, was his attentiveness to detail and his talkative nature, standing in stark contrast to the other, generally more tight-lipped denizens of Ewing Bay. This, and his well-spoken manner meant that he more often than not became the man that the pseudo-aristocracy went to see and talk with in order to interact with the fishermen.
Naturally, this worked to his advantage; Scott soon became increasingly aware of the holier-than-thou activities of this pseudo-aristocracy; rather than waste his life by doing what most would have considered to be the honourable thing and reveal these supposedly-well-to-do people's activities Scott soon became implicit in them, aiding the smugglers in their own activities and making a good amount of money on the side in the process. Not only this, but Scott also won the implicit and explicitly favour of the families by doing these under-the-radar activities, thus allowing him to put on a faux worker's rights activist's mantle and thus court the favour as well of many of the local fishermen in the process; naturally, this process itself lasted the better half of his 20s and 30s, during which time he had become a largely respected figure, both by his peers and his obviously apparent superiors, all the while maintaining a faux image of worker's rights activist; an image that many in the fisherman's community had come to admire him for. With his usefulness being proven time and again, the leading family's of the pseudo-aristocracy thus decided to have him appropriately selected as their greatest "opponent", pulling strings amongst their other prominent retainers so as to ensure that the already well-loved Scott would become the next "Union" leader for the fishermen; In 2280, his 30s now over and the ageing Scott advancing well into his 40s, Scott became the average town citizen's voice; albeit a voice paid and bought for behind-the-scenes by the previously openly in-charge pseudo-aristocracy, notably including the likes of Martin Long. Inevitably, Scott became both the toast of the average citizen, nibbling on poor quality food and drinking more-often-than not irradiated water, and the rich of the influential families, munching contently on finest gourmet foodstuffs and sipping vintage wine painstakingly recovered from ruined houses of the well-to-do before the Great War; some of which ended up being sent Scott's way as means of thanks. Scott himself continues to this day to serve his pay-masters, aware of both that which he has to gain and that which he has to lose should he either gain or lose their favour, respectively.
Unions aren't what they used to be, clearly.
- "I've done bad things, sure; but, in the end, I did them for the good of others; majority over minority, right?"
- ―Allan Scott
- "This little fishy can fuck right off!"
- ―Allan Scott
- Waders: The standard garb of most seasoned fishermen in Ewing Bay is that of the waders, Wellington boots, and sweater ensemble, becoming almost a uniform of sorts for the fishermen of Ewing Bay; Scott is no exception to this rule himself, though he prefers to wear a rather unorthodox fishing cap replete with bait more for aesthetic reasons than practical ones; way of showing off his own flair.
- Hunting Rifle: Despite being a trusting man, or so he claims, Scott sees fit to carry a Hunting Rifle with him wherever he goes on the Harbour and in Ewing Bay Proper; usually with it slung over his shoulder on a strap; Scott is particularly fond of this rifle, insisting that it has saved his life countless times; from the numerous Mirelurks he has killed from afar with this rifle, he could well be right.
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