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Peter
Peter was very small when he realized his mother wasn't always referring to him when she said the name "Peter". He was a junior, of course, and he could tell which one she was calling for without having to hear what she needed to say after.
Peter Milroy Junior.
The name had a considerable weight to it, one that any captain serving under the East India Company recognized. The "Junior" left no doubt as to where he got that Milroy title from.
Better go easy on that one, his father could put me out of a job.
Spoiled snotty, did he even have to pay for his spot as midshipman?
I wonder how many false musters he's been put onto…
No one ever said anything like this to his face, but he's sure it's what many officers thought when they saw his name in their manifests. It reflected in the way they treated him. He realized he'd never escape the influence, the power, that his father held, even if he were on the other side of the world. Even if he were a captain, forging his own path.
Thomas
Thomas felt the meaning of his name long, long before he ever knew it. His parents had to hastily buy a second cradle when they discovered his mother had been pregnant with twins. That was the one Thomas slept in, while his brother got the cherished original, brought over from the old country, with "Lanke" carved into the headboard.
Then the heirloom sat empty, while the newer, cheaper one continued to be used. Thomas didn't remember much of anything about him, of course. If he thought hard about the stories his parents loved to retell, he could occasionally conjure up fleeting flashes of imagery on the backs of his eyelids. But he was never too sure whether those were his own memories or theirs.
They balked at the amount of money needed to become a midshipman. Thomas got the unshakable feeling that they wouldn't if his mirror image had expressed the interest instead. Eventually they agreed, after calling in a favor from one of their Company friends. He had been more interested in the Navy, but he had learned to accept was he was given without argument.
Charles
When Charles first mentioned learning about British monarchs in his tutoring, his mother was eager to tell him that he was named after one of those kings. Thinking back on the list he had been given, he asked if it was Charles I or Charles II. The second one, she said, he was the reigning monarch when her family came over from Spain.
An English given name and a Jewish family name. The curious fact always stuck with him after that day, a perfect picture of how split down the middle he was. His mother's family had been in London for centuries and had abandoned many of their old customs in favor of more Christian ones. He was only the second generation of his father's family to be born in Britain. They still spoke Yiddish and read the Talmud.
Which direction was Charles to steer his life?
He had always liked the sound of sailing. Once his mind was set on it, he supposed the decision was made for him. A Bible and a prayerbook were among the supplies required of midshipmen.
He recalled Charles II being open-minded in regards to religion, but that his proposed reforms never came to pass thanks to Parliament. Perhaps he wouldn't have to be making this choice if the king had his way.
