Midshipman Florian L. B. Forester

[Florian Forester]

Player Information
Username: Sir Douglas
Other characters: Charles Remington, Ruth Beckett, Horace Hornsby,

Character Information
Full Name: Florian Leander Branduff Forester
Nicknames: None that he would admit to
Age: Eighteen
Sex: Male
Place of Birth: Born on the sixteenth of October in Burnsbury
Social Class: Gentry
Occupation: Naval Officer (Midshipman)

Family:

Father: Marshall Forester, gentry and member of the parliament.
Mother: Frances Forester,
Siblings: Oscar Forester, aged thirty-three; Lord Benjamin Forester, aged twenty-nine; Lord Cyril Forester, aged twenty-seven; and Grace Forester, aged fifteen.
Extended family: Lady Cordelia Forester, wife of Oscar; Ellsworth Forester, son of Oscar and Cordelia, aged eleven; Mabelle Forester, daughter of Oscar and Cordelia, aged seven; Lady Constance Forester, wife of Benjamin; William Forester, son of Benjamin and Constance, aged three; Lady Clementine Forester, younger sister of Marshall Forester and aunt of Clarence; and Captain Wilburn, younger brother of Marshall Forester and Florian’s uncle.

Background:

Personality:

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Physical Appearance:


Ioan Gruffudd

Additional Information:

Writing Sample:

It was an eerily dark morning, fat droplets of chilly rain fell from the black clouds whirling above and the Anamaria was floating in the distance, rocking violently back and forth against the waves, hovering like a phantom behind a thick blanket of fog. Clarence was seated in a row boat, nearing the frigate, his heart hammered as he watched the dark waters churn below him, and a sickening feeling slowly began to crawl up his throat. Occasionally, the seawater extended an icy hand into the row boat, drenching his cloak. The couple rowing his boat seemed unchanged since they had left shore, but Clarence could not tell if their sour expressions were a result of the fact that they had to leave their warm beds and subjected to such terrible weather or because they feared Clarence would make a mess of their boat by disgorging his pitiful breakfast. The sky began to light itself faintly once he reached the Anamaria and as he climbed upwards, he was helped aboard the deck by the Lieutenant, a stout and burly man who seemed genuinely concerned, but once he realised the boy’s sea-sickness, he appeared to refrain from vocalising his thought and instead introduced himself in a formal tone, “Welcome about the Anamaria, Mister Scudder. I am Lieutenant Burghill.”
As an attempt to appear fully recovered, Clarence straightened himself up, taking in a deep breath of the crisp sea air and biting his lips nervously. He had read about life on ships in books before as a boy and unsure of what to say, he opened his mouth to speak but the man had taken a good look at Clarence’s face and continued.
“You’re fourteen, aren’t you?”
“Y-y-yes, sir,” Clarence managed to say, damning himself in his own mind for stammering and his cheeks reddened at the thought.
“Very well, right this way, I shall show you to the captain.”
Clarence tried to speak, but no words came from his mouth. Burghill raised an eyebrow at Clarence before turning around and moving towards the Captain’s quarters, Clarence felt embarrassed and was shivering head to toe from the cold. Finally, the words escaped him, “Th-thank you, sir,” but moments had already passed and his appreciation now seemed very out of place. He was nervous, gravely nervous and despite chanting in his mind to calm himself, he could not. And by the time the Captain’s oak doors were parted to lead him through, Clarence was trembling and for the first time, he realised it was not because of the rain or the sea water, but because he was scared.