Benedict Hollysmith's Questionnaire

Benedict lives in the Moray Trail Coast, in a Manor house just a few ways away from the closest village of Hopeman, Elgin. They have long decided that the country side is where their heart is, far away from the tax-hawkers in the city, or those vile unprivileged folks whom pretend to be of higher status...

Well, in actuality, they are quite the refined capitalist, masquerading as one of the country bumpkins. They have silver plates right? In anycase, his home is a stone-brick and British oak Manor house of a respectable size, with of course, quite the few rooms lavished in only the finest of pieces taken from cultures all around the globe. Painting of the Hollysmith bloodline are lined in the tall hallsways, eyeing those that pass by in bitter judgement.

Benedict Hollysmith has a couple of off-shore investments, and has a long line of both Research notes and books written that he receives royalties from. Not only that, but an esteemed Gentleman like himself is not privy to the occasional gambling with the good chaps in capitalistic politics.

Precious metals and ores mined at a low-cost, with hard labour sells well on refined hands and the napes of respectable folk. Yes, yes, to be a Hollysmith is to spend lavishly for amenities, but also, to strike more deals and get more money...

After all, Money rules the world, and Benedict has the roots of all evil.

For decades, Benedict has been screwing over the lower-class to reap the benefits of his namesake. Ambitious is but only a word for the Hollysmith name: Hunger is more appropriate; the unwavering hunger for wealth and power to a point of sickening those deemed... Uncivilized.

Benedict has killed before, many times in fact, but was there any evidence? Any witnesses? Well, only rumors— how else would their name be knighted? By being a simple man? No, but by making the correct deals, with the wrong kind of people.

When Death comes for Benedict, they had better be coming with a deal, because Hollysmith isn't going to let an opportunity pass him to get what he wants. A fair deal? Sure, you'd want that, but will you get it? No.

Benedict Hollysmith Senior forced the poor boy to shoot his dog in the face.

He threatened the child: "You are too soft, my dear boy, and you will learn to be a Hollysmith no sooner than I am willing to allow! You're 8, for God's sake! Start acting like it!"

The man had told him, handing the revolver to his grubby hands. For sure, Benedict had contemplated shoot their father, but, the tears welled up and they admitted their will— shooting the dog point blank...

There was no bullet. It was a prank... Happy Birthday.

It was a lesson to Benedict the Second: Sometimes hard times are only a lesson to be learned for the future, and when that day comes, make sure it isn't a blank.

They didn't find his father's body after all.

Ms. Greymar is simply my most loyal companion, always there to cater to my every whim and add a touch of humor to my otherwise mundane existence. Her unwavering support and understanding are merely a product of her subservient nature, which I have come to rely on for my own amusement.

Geoffrey, my trusty butler, is nothing more than a mere servant in my opulent household. His impeccable manners and loyalty are simply a facade to maintain his position and keep himself in my good graces. His reserved demeanor is a stark reminder of his place in society, and I have no qualms about exploiting his loyalty for my own benefit.

And then there is Henrietta, my daughter - a constant reminder of my own success and influence in the world. Her infectious laughter and boundless curiosity serve only to stroke my own ego, as I bask in the glory of having produced such a promising offspring. Her growth and development are merely a reflection of my own abilities as a parent, and I have little concern for her well-being beyond the superficial.

My father, a man of immense wealth and influence, ruled over my life with an iron fist. His constant fit of rules, meticulously enforced with a wig made of ivory perched atop his head, left no room for deviation or failure. Failure was not an option in his eyes, and he instilled in me the same belief from a young age.

His disdain for failure was palpable, and it shaped me into a cold, calculating individual who never settled for anything less than perfection. I was groomed to always strive for excellence, to never accept anything less than the best. And while his methods may have been harsh, they were effective in molding me into a ruthless, unforgiving individual.

But as time went on, I began to grow tired of his incessant need for control. His rules became suffocating, his expectations impossible to meet. And so, I began to plot my escape from his oppressive grip. It was on a dark, stormy night that my father met his demise. The details of his mysterious death remain a secret, hidden beneath a shroud of lies and deceit. But as I stood over his lifeless body, in the funeral of course, a smile was playing on my lips, I knew that I was finally free from his tyrannical rule.

In the end, my father's obsession with perfection and his hatred for failure only served to fuel my own desire for power and control. And as I bask in the glow of my newfound freedom, I can't help but wonder if his death was truly a tragedy or simply a means to an end. The world is mine now, and I will stop at nothing to ensure that I remain at the top, no matter the cost.

My ex-wives and past lovers were nothing but a hassle, always demanding my time and attention. They were all so needy and petty, constantly trying to manipulate me for their own gain. I was glad to be rid of them, finally able to pursue my own interests without their interference. But then, along came Ms. Greymar.

Ms. Greymar is a breath of fresh air compared to my previous companions. She is independent, intelligent, and sophisticated. She doesn't need me for anything, which is a refreshing change from the constant drama of my past relationships. I find myself drawn to her fiery spirit and confident demeanor. She challenges me in ways no one ever has before. I must admit, I am quite smitten with Ms. Greymar. She stirs something within me that I thought long dormant. I find myself wanting to spend every moment with her, to bask in her presence and revel in her company. She is a woman of substance, a true equal in every sense of the word.

I may have been dismissive of my ex-wives and past lovers, but with Ms. Greymar, I have found someone truly special. And for that, I am grateful.

My worst fear about being poor is losing the comfortable and luxurious lifestyle that I have become accustomed to. The thought of not being able to afford designer clothes, fine dining, and extravagant vacations terrifies me. I simply cannot imagine having to downgrade my lifestyle and live within my means like some common peasant.

However, when I compare my fear of being poor to the reality of poverty in third-world countries, I realize just how privileged and ignorant I am. While I worry about losing material possessions and status, the poor in these countries struggle to survive on a daily basis. They lack access to clean water, proper nutrition, healthcare, and education. Their basic human rights are often violated, and they live in dire conditions of poverty, disease, and malnutrition.

I cannot fathom the struggles and hardships that the poor in third-world countries endure on a daily basis. Their lives are a constant battle for survival, with little hope or opportunity for a better future. While I worry about luxury and comfort, they worry about basic necessities like food and shelter. It is truly humbling to realize how privileged I am and how insignificant my fears of poverty seem in comparison.

my worst fear about being poor pales in comparison to the harsh realities faced by the poor in third-world countries. I must check my privilege and be grateful for the abundance and opportunities that I have been blessed with. It is my duty to use my wealth and resources to help those less fortunate and make a positive impact in the world. In the way I see fit, of course.

I must admit, my most prized possession is quite unusual and macabre. It is a statue that eerily resembles my mother, but what sets it apart is that it is actually made of her bones. 

I know it may seem unsettling to some, but to me, this statue is a powerful and poignant tribute to the woman who brought me into this world and loved me unconditionally. The intricate details of her bones meticulously crafted into a lifelike form, capturing her essence and presence in a way that words simply cannot convey. Every time I look at this statue, I am filled with a sense of awe and reverence for my mother. It serves as a physical reminder of her strength, her beauty, and the enduring bond that we shared. It is a tangible link to my past, a piece of her that I can hold onto and cherish forever.

Some may view it as morbid or disturbing, but to me, it is a symbol of love, loss, and the enduring power of memory. It is a testament to the depth of my connection to my mother, and a way for me to honor her legacy in a truly unique and personal way. This statue, made from the very bones of my mother, is not just a possession to me - it is a sacred and cherished relic that will always hold a special place in my heart. It may be unconventional, but to me, it is a priceless treasure that I will always hold dear.

Oh dear, allow me to elucidate upon the tiresome predicament that the poor have presented me with. Frankly, they are quite the nuisance and undoubtedly my biggest problem. These insufferable wretches have the audacity to be a burden on my finances, constantly requiring handouts and assistance. It is simply intolerable.

One cannot help but feel a sense of superiority when faced with the plight of the impoverished. Their lack of personal responsibility and inability to pull themselves up by their bootstraps is a constant source of irritation. One would think they would have the sense to manage their finances more prudently, but alas, it appears they lack even the most basic of money management skills.

I find it rather galling to be forced to associate with such riff-raff, as they bring down the tone of any establishment they frequent. Their presence is a blight upon society, draining resources and perpetuating a culture of dependency. It is high time they were held accountable for their actions and taught the value of hard work and self-reliance. The poor are an incessant nuisance and a drain on my resources. It is high time they were made to toe the line and contribute to society, rather than leeching off the hard work of others. One can only hope that they will one day see the error of their ways and strive for a better future. Until then, I shall continue to hold myself aloof from their deplorable company.

As the first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains of my opulent bedroom at precisely 7:00 AM, I am roused from my slumber by the soothing melody of my alarm clock. With an air of superiority and unwavering discipline, I rise from my silk sheets and embark upon my meticulously curated morning routine.

I begin by attending to my flawless complexion, a canvas that must be maintained with the utmost care and precision. With a deft hand, I cleanse my face using an exfoliating scrub, followed by a toner to refine my already impeccable pores. A nourishing moisturizer is then applied, ensuring that my visage remains ageless and resplendent, a testament to my dedication to perfection.

Having attended to my physical appearance, I proceed to the temple of self-improvement – the gym. Here, amongst mere mortals sweating and straining, I engage in an arduous regimen of weightlifting, cardiovascular exercise, and yoga, all under the watchful gaze of my impeccable fitness tracker. My heart rate and calorie burn are closely monitored, for excellence is my standard in all endeavors. One must stay fit in my age- HAHA!

Upon completion of my rigorous workout, I return to my palatial abode to engage in the purifying ritual of the shower. Adorned in only the finest linens and grooming products, I prepare myself for the day ahead with meticulous care and attention to detail.

A breakfast of champions awaits me, an English breakfast or nutrient-rich sandwich designed to nourish my body and fortify my mind. With a flourish, I ingest my daily regimen of vitamins and supplements, for my pursuit of greatness leaves no room for compromise.

As I cast a final glance in the mirror, satisfied with my flawless appearance, I retrieve my designer briefcase and stride confidently out the door. The world awaits, and I embrace each challenge with the unassailable confidence of a man who knows that success is his birthright.

As a man of refined taste and considerable wealth, preparing for a special occasion is of utmost importance to me. I spare no expense in ensuring that I present myself in the most elegant and distinguished manner possible. My loyal servant Geoffrey is an essential part of this process, assisting me in selecting the perfect outfit from my extensive collection of designer suits.

I am a connoisseur of fine men's fashion, favoring suits from esteemed brands such as Gucci, Armani, and Hugo Boss. These garments are meticulously tailored to fit my frame flawlessly, exuding sophistication and luxury. The choice of suit is only the beginning, as I pay careful attention to every detail of my attire. A crisp dress shirt, a silk tie, and polished leather dress shoes are carefully chosen to complement the suit. Accessories such as a sleek watch and a pocket square are meticulously selected to enhance the overall ensemble. Of course, no outfit of mine would be complete without the addition of a collapsible cane, a symbol of refinement and exclusivity.

As an individual of distinguished means, I am always mindful of the impression I make. Therefore, I take great care in my grooming routine, ensuring that my appearance is impeccable and befitting of my status. The addition of a smoking pipe, carefully chosen from my collection, serves as a final touch of sophistication and sophistication. In the span of 45 minutes, with the assistance of Geoffrey, I am transformed into a vision of sartorial elegance and opulence. This preparation instills me with a sense of confidence and assurance that I am ready to grace any event with my presence, leaving a lasting impression of refinement and sophistication in my wake.

Ah, my dear... Well the exhilarating pursuit of hunting a majestic creature for sport is simply unparalleled! The thrill of the chase, the precision of one's aim, the ultimate satisfaction of claiming victory over such a noble beast - it truly is a testament to one's prowess and skill. But, let us not overlook the undeniable financial benefits that come with such a distinguished pastime. 

For one mustn't forget the lavish sums that can be made from trophy hunting, with wealthy patrons clamoring to partake in this exclusive pursuit. The allure of a prized trophy on display in one's opulent estate is a status symbol, a testimony to one's wealth and influence. And let us not overlook the lucrative opportunities that come with organizing such expeditions, for the mastermind behind the hunt stands to gain considerable wealth and prestige.

In sum, the hunt for sport is not merely an act of leisure, but a calculated business venture that promises immense rewards for those with the means and the inclination to pursue it!

Oh, the utter travesty of it all! My largest regret, my most agonizing lament, is the fact that I was unable to seize upon the opportunity to purchase vast parcels of land in Africa for the purpose of mining. Oh, how my heart aches at the thought of what could have been, the riches that could have been mine.

Imagine the grandeur, the magnificence of owning my own mine in the heart of Africa, extracting precious resources and reaping the rewards of such a lucrative venture. The mere thought fills me with a sense of longing and regret so profound, it nearly brings me to tears. Alas, circumstances beyond my control thwarted my grand ambitions, leaving me to wallow in the depths of despair at the lost opportunity. Oh, how I curse the fates for denying me my rightful place among the elite of mining magnates.

But mark my words, dear reader, this setback shall not deter me. I shall rise from the ashes of this disappointment and forge ahead, seeking new opportunities to amass wealth and power beyond my wildest dreams. And when I do, it shall be a sight to behold, a triumphant testament to my indomitable spirit and unyielding ambition.

Ah, my dear chap, my daring exploits in the contracts is to appease my ever growing knowledge and power. I am not gifted anything, I am simply given what already belongs to me. For you see, it is not simply a matter of borrowing quaint customs or exotic dress; it is a noble pursuit of acquiring knowledge and power from the far-flung corners of the earth. Be it supernatural, or technological...

I take great pride in my ability to plunder the traditions and practices of ancient civilizations, blending them seamlessly into my own magical repertoire. The way in which I deftly integrate the mysticism of the East with the sorcery of the West is a feat of unparalleled genius, if I may say so myself. And let us not forget the thrill of the hunt, the exhilarating rush of infiltrating secret societies and coaxing secret knowledge from their keepers. To think that I, a mere mortal, could wield the arcane arts of the Aztecs or harness the elemental forces of the Maori is a testament to my insatiable thirst for power and my unyielding dedication to the craft of magic.

So let the naysayers condemn me as a thief and a charlatan; I care not for their petty judgments. For I am an enchanter, a conjurer of worlds, a master of the mystical arts. And I shall continue to pilfer from the past and present, to appropriate and adapt, all in the name of expanding my own arcane horizons.

There are many Gods out there, some choose to be a monotheistic, other choose to have a variation of whom to fall to. There are societies out there that don't even praise Gods, but those that stand with gifted attributes.

Quite the fascinating topic. I must say, as an educated individual, I find the various beliefs and customs of different faiths to be quite intriguing. One simply cannot deny the impact that religion has had on society throughout history, and on myself.

Of course, being of a certain class and upbringing, I approach the topic of religion with a certain level of tact and sophistication. It simply would not do to be seen as overly zealous or fanatical in one's beliefs. No, one must approach the subject with a certain level of intellectual curiosity and open-mindedness. I, am a follower of spirituality that suits my interest... A man of all beliefs if I may say...

And let us not forget the philosophical and ethical teachings that many religions espouse.  I may not adhere to any particular religious belief myself, I do appreciate the beauty and complexity of the various faiths that exist in the world.

It doesn't help at all. There are those that ruin economy by their worldviews, and need to transmuted low-quality goods into once valuable resources. I believe in the realm of good capitalism, not such that is freely thought of, and given away like charity. NO! The flow of money, is the flow of life in this world. Without trade, without value, there is no morals, there is no grand order to things; no laws. No Life can sustain itself without an equal spread transfer of goods and services. There are more then just money though, there is knowledge in power.

And with power, there is knowledge. With more knowledge, more money, there is more power, more flow, more control. The world is Benedict's oyster; capitalism is the open ocean ready for harvest. Behold me, the man of intelligence, a man of business. I will tear down the walls of what make the economy, and rebuild it, refined.

Poor unfortunate souls with ideals of varying nature... I find them extraordinarily interesting, for the fact that they are are doubt working towards certain goals of the selfish nature. Most of them, are poor. Too afraid of wealth. Others, my, are profoundly skilled in the ways of business.

I have met alot of them in my travels, and what I can say, is that they are no doubt people I stay wary of, no matter the day; lest I fall into their wrath. I am but a researcher in a world of violence- all these men and women are astoundingly violent. I find it appalling that they are not civilized enough just to carry a good conversation. On the off chance that someone is peaceful; they are just... Either narcissist or too much of a pacifistic bufoon that has no brevity other than attending Contracts.

Rightfully, I find myself being the better of all them.

The perfect room for me would be a blend of understated elegance and ostentatious decor, reflecting both my social status and sophisticated taste. One SHOULD be greeted by the warm glow of a grand Italian granite fireplace, its polished brass gate framing a brilliant fire that dances lighy across the plush, deep-pile carpet.

The walls should be adorned with a rich, ebony wood, embellished with intricate moldings and engravings. Mirrors and oil paintings of my noble ancestors hung up, their frames ornate gold details. A towering mahogany bookcase, filled with rare animal leather-bound volumes on history and philosophy.

In the center, a fine longue draped in a brilliant burgundy velvet. A delicate porcelain tea set, complete with dainty china cups, resting on a polished oak side table, awaiting the afternoon ritual of tea, which he partakes with an air of casual superiority.

The room’s ambiance is further enriched by subtle scents of whiskey and tobacco, mingling with the soft tunes of a pianos echoing in the background. An ornate chandelier, dripping with crystals, casting brilliant lights on the room, illuminating the decorative accents: silver candlesticks and feathered quills, each a sign of my lavish lifestyle