whistle for the choir | clarence

[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"] Clarence had never had any sort of... romantic partner. He'd expected to get one eventually, sure, but he never really actively sought one. There'd been plenty of nice young women who his mother had suggested, but he didn't find himself drawn to any of them. They were pleasant, of course, none of them had been rude, but he just didn't care to marry them. Then he'd been sent off with the Navy and that'd ended any sort of quest to find himself a wife, if that was even a goal. There were more important things to worry about than his romantic life. Besides, his romantic life in general was a confused tangle of thoughts and feelings he didn't understand how to, or didn't want to, decipher. There had been Thomas. Clarence wasn't completely blind to his own feelings. He understood, to some extent, that what he felt for the other man had been more than what friendship meant to most. But none of that mattered. He was dead and Clarence would never see him again. He was a long dead friend. While he might be able to entertain the thought of having enjoyed Thomas' company more than in the context of friendship here, it was never something he could've even been allowed to think in his own time. His family had enough concerns and rumors around them without Clarence seeking the company of another man, quite frankly. Witchcraft had to take precedence.

When Pierce seemed content that he was feeling a bit better, he simply gave a nod in response before hearing the man's next question. At this, a wry smile spread across his maw and he hesitated. "Ah, I'm not quite sure that's how I would describe it," he admitted with a soft chuckle before continuing, "I've had to wake up during unholy hours for the past year or so and habits are hard to break. While it might have been nearly 200 years for everyone else here, it was only two weeks for me." At the mention of illness, there seemed to be a slight hint of concern in the man's eyes as he regarded the other creature. "Well, I'm glad to hear you're feeling well now. I am- I was a surgeon on the Queen Charlotte. Unfortunately, I'm far too aware of how quickly such things spread."