I keep trying to be brief, and I give up. I'm just going to write you a veritable essay.
Hmmm. I think these are the moments I find especially defining:
In the Duel: His over-the-top glee over having killed three men in his first boarding action.
When he panics in Frogs and Lobsters. So much so that there's a reference to it in the first Archie fic I ever wrote. You know, most people panic by running AWAY from trouble. Not by trying to kill it.
The way he reacts to the crew of the Renown over Wellard.
Driving motivation? I'm not sure he has one, unless it's to live and be as happy as he can and look after the people he cares about. Which is Horatio, always, but also Wellard, and Bush, and Matthews, and Styles, and Orrock.
Things I think are important about Archie:
He is not quite sane. He's broken in a way that you don't ever completely recover from.
One of the things I admire about ITV/A and E is that they avoided the action-hero trope where whatever happens to you you just bounce back as if nothing had happened.
I mean, they underplay it, they underplay it so much that I honestly think a lot of people miss it, but it's one hell of a list when you lay it out.
He's been abused by his own side (that he was raped it not canon. That he was physically abused is, and that Simpson's sadism is the sexual kind is established. Even if Simpson never actually risked hanging over it, that kind of thing leaves a mark.). Then marooned. By his own side. Then, prison. Somewhere in one of the books someone says 'better a Turkish Galley than a Spanish prison.' He's been, canonically, tortured. Left in a hole in the ground until he couldn't walk, much less run.
At the end of all this, he's about 23.
He's always playing catch-up. When he was a young mid, and supposed to be learning his trade, there was Simpson. Later, there was prison. Somehow he passed his exam, but it must have been hellish.
He does not like or want pity, and he doesn't pity himself. He is, I think, rather ashamed for himself for not being more of a heroic type. And he's got a sense of humour, he's basically a cheerful sort. He doesn't brood overmuch, and he doesn't much like to dwell on what can't be changed.
He is, by his action and not his facial expressions, brave as all hell, and capable of ruthlessness on a scale that can even appall Horatio.
He is ferociously protective, not just of Horatio, but later of Wellard, Bush, his gun crew ...
Who was he before the Navy? I tend to think, solidly loved, or he wouldn't be functional at ALL. From a family neither rich nor poor. Able, as Heyer says, to command the elegancies of life, but not rolling in the stuff. Theatre-mad. A reader. Bright as heck. That's still there.
Is he a good naval officer? Not really. His respect for heirarchy is nil. He's insubordinate; he smarts off Edrington, he smarts off Bush...
His loyalties are exclusively personal, and for him, this makes sense; that's one of the things encountering something like Simpson at an early age will do to you, I think.
So, yeah. I babble, but basically, what I love about his is not that he's angsty and weepy and damaged -- he's not, actually, especially angsty or weepy, considering -- but that he's stunningly imperfect, even desperately damaged, and yet out of that he makes of himself a damned good man, one who does some incredibly brave things.
Re: Mutual Admiration Society
Hmmm. I think these are the moments I find especially defining:
In the Duel: His over-the-top glee over having killed three men in his first boarding action.
When he panics in Frogs and Lobsters. So much so that there's a reference to it in the first Archie fic I ever wrote. You know, most people panic by running AWAY from trouble. Not by trying to kill it.
The way he reacts to the crew of the Renown over Wellard.
Driving motivation? I'm not sure he has one, unless it's to live and be as happy as he can and look after the people he cares about. Which is Horatio, always, but also Wellard, and Bush, and Matthews, and Styles, and Orrock.
Things I think are important about Archie:
He is not quite sane. He's broken in a way that you don't ever completely recover from.
One of the things I admire about ITV/A and E is that they avoided the action-hero trope where whatever happens to you you just bounce back as if nothing had happened.
I mean, they underplay it, they underplay it so much that I honestly think a lot of people miss it, but it's one hell of a list when you lay it out.
He's been abused by his own side (that he was raped it not canon. That he was physically abused is, and that Simpson's sadism is the sexual kind is established. Even if Simpson never actually risked hanging over it, that kind of thing leaves a mark.).
Then marooned. By his own side.
Then, prison. Somewhere in one of the books someone says 'better a Turkish Galley than a Spanish prison.'
He's been, canonically, tortured. Left in a hole in the ground until he couldn't walk, much less run.
At the end of all this, he's about 23.
He's always playing catch-up. When he was a young mid, and supposed to be learning his trade, there was Simpson. Later, there was prison. Somehow he passed his exam, but it must have been hellish.
He does not like or want pity, and he doesn't pity himself. He is, I think, rather ashamed for himself for not being more of a heroic type. And he's got a sense of humour, he's basically a cheerful sort. He doesn't brood overmuch, and he doesn't much like to dwell on what can't be changed.
He is, by his action and not his facial expressions, brave as all hell, and capable of ruthlessness on a scale that can even appall Horatio.
He is ferociously protective, not just of Horatio, but later of Wellard, Bush, his gun crew ...
Who was he before the Navy? I tend to think, solidly loved, or he wouldn't be functional at ALL. From a family neither rich nor poor. Able, as Heyer says, to command the elegancies of life, but not rolling in the stuff. Theatre-mad. A reader. Bright as heck. That's still there.
Is he a good naval officer? Not really. His respect for heirarchy is nil. He's insubordinate; he smarts off Edrington, he smarts off Bush...
His loyalties are exclusively personal, and for him, this makes sense; that's one of the things encountering something like Simpson at an early age will do to you, I think.
So, yeah. I babble, but basically, what I love about his is not that he's angsty and weepy and damaged -- he's not, actually, especially angsty or weepy, considering -- but that he's stunningly imperfect, even desperately damaged, and yet out of that he makes of himself a damned good man, one who does some incredibly brave things.
*falls finally, mercifully silent*