11-22-2018, 01:24 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]//the top half of this is all history so it could be skipped if you'd like, although it is somewhat important for his intro. basically, he died during the Battle of Lake Erie via drowning.
He had known this was a bad idea. He wasn't sure how. They didn't have evidence the Americans were so far into developing their navy, but it had been some sort of gut feeling, which was only confirmed when they arrived on Lake Erie's waters. From the moment they entered, there was a clear winner and it would not be the British fleet. How had he even let it get to this point? He should've found a way to get around his required military service. He should've done something, anything, to stop this nonsense before he got here. He was smart enough. He had lots of marketable skills. He could get a nice job once he got out of the military easily. He would still be young by the end of his contract and he'd have the advantage of having admirable recommendations from several officers in the British Royal Navy. He had a bright future if he made it through this night, which was seeming less and less likely. He couldn't say exactly what'd gone wrong but they'd already lost quite a few men and he heard rumors that Captain Barclay had lost a leg.
Still, there was no talk of surrender. The Caledonia had cut off their ship some time ago and now battle raged on his beloved Queen Charlotte. He had just managed to push back a wave of the Americans when he noticed Lieutenant Finnis dealing with his own army. The man seemed to have mostly warded them off but there was one man that had somehow escaped his notice and was approaching him from behind. "Finnis!" Clarence did his best to shout the man's name but he couldn't be heard over the gunfire. Without thinking, he bolted forward, somehow managing to rush past the other men. However, his movement had not gone without notice. Something tore through his back and he stumbled, gripping the side of the ship and gasping, but still focusing on his target. He might still get there. Plenty of men had survived bullet wounds before, or at least waited to die until infection caught up with them.
His head spun and in his disoriented state, he'd failed to notice a nearby fight growing a little too close. Before he could process what had happened, someone (he was unsure whether it was an intentional movement from the Americans or from someone on his own side that'd stepped back a little too far) fell into him. Combined with the force of the shove, the bullet, and his own confusion, it didn't take much for his already unsteady frame to topple into the waves. He hit the waves and wildly flailed in a horrific display of cowardice as he sank into the darkness. Each movement of his shoulder sent pain through it but he wanted nothing more than to take another breath of air. He would live, he would live, he would live-
His lungs were inflated as he took a gasping breath of air, which quickly transformed into sputtering despite the fact there was no water in them. In fact, he wasn't wet at all. Where was he? He tried to catch his breath, something that was relatively easy given it seemed like nothing had happened at all. He stood on trembling legs, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. "Finnis?" He yelled the name, his voice raw. Little did he know the man had died more than two hundred years ago. He spun as he thought he heard something off in the distance. "Hello? Is someone here? This is the Clarence Aston, the leading surgeon aboard the Queen Charlotte. British forces are facing dire situations on Lake Erie, I-I need to find... I need to find-" What did he need to find? He wasn't even sure where the lake was from his location. He certainly didn't recognize any of his surroundings and, even if he could, he wouldn't have the first clue who to call for help, if there was anyone who could help at this point.
He had known this was a bad idea. He wasn't sure how. They didn't have evidence the Americans were so far into developing their navy, but it had been some sort of gut feeling, which was only confirmed when they arrived on Lake Erie's waters. From the moment they entered, there was a clear winner and it would not be the British fleet. How had he even let it get to this point? He should've found a way to get around his required military service. He should've done something, anything, to stop this nonsense before he got here. He was smart enough. He had lots of marketable skills. He could get a nice job once he got out of the military easily. He would still be young by the end of his contract and he'd have the advantage of having admirable recommendations from several officers in the British Royal Navy. He had a bright future if he made it through this night, which was seeming less and less likely. He couldn't say exactly what'd gone wrong but they'd already lost quite a few men and he heard rumors that Captain Barclay had lost a leg.
Still, there was no talk of surrender. The Caledonia had cut off their ship some time ago and now battle raged on his beloved Queen Charlotte. He had just managed to push back a wave of the Americans when he noticed Lieutenant Finnis dealing with his own army. The man seemed to have mostly warded them off but there was one man that had somehow escaped his notice and was approaching him from behind. "Finnis!" Clarence did his best to shout the man's name but he couldn't be heard over the gunfire. Without thinking, he bolted forward, somehow managing to rush past the other men. However, his movement had not gone without notice. Something tore through his back and he stumbled, gripping the side of the ship and gasping, but still focusing on his target. He might still get there. Plenty of men had survived bullet wounds before, or at least waited to die until infection caught up with them.
His head spun and in his disoriented state, he'd failed to notice a nearby fight growing a little too close. Before he could process what had happened, someone (he was unsure whether it was an intentional movement from the Americans or from someone on his own side that'd stepped back a little too far) fell into him. Combined with the force of the shove, the bullet, and his own confusion, it didn't take much for his already unsteady frame to topple into the waves. He hit the waves and wildly flailed in a horrific display of cowardice as he sank into the darkness. Each movement of his shoulder sent pain through it but he wanted nothing more than to take another breath of air. He would live, he would live, he would live-
His lungs were inflated as he took a gasping breath of air, which quickly transformed into sputtering despite the fact there was no water in them. In fact, he wasn't wet at all. Where was he? He tried to catch his breath, something that was relatively easy given it seemed like nothing had happened at all. He stood on trembling legs, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. "Finnis?" He yelled the name, his voice raw. Little did he know the man had died more than two hundred years ago. He spun as he thought he heard something off in the distance. "Hello? Is someone here? This is the Clarence Aston, the leading surgeon aboard the Queen Charlotte. British forces are facing dire situations on Lake Erie, I-I need to find... I need to find-" What did he need to find? He wasn't even sure where the lake was from his location. He certainly didn't recognize any of his surroundings and, even if he could, he wouldn't have the first clue who to call for help, if there was anyone who could help at this point.