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    1. mnkee 9 yrs ago

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Location: Docks near the Bellona (Port of Tortuga)


- "Broken Crown" by Mumford & Sons



Sirena's breaths came in and out more sharply, and her blue eyes widened. Fear seeped into the countenance of a woman who was normally so confident and dauntless. She honestly did not know what scared her more, her best friend and captain being turned against her or the insatiable thirst for blood that was quickly overpowering her. She raised up her bare hands with her palms facing towards Harlianne in hopes of showing that she meant no harm. She generally preferred to talk her way out of sticky situations such as this, only using violence as a last resort. "Please Harlianne. I beg of you, don't do this. You aren't yourself right now," she stated pleadingly before whispering. "And neither am I."

She could feel it residing deep within her, the hunger for blood. It was gnawing at her. The blood was calling to her. The sight and smell of the corpses simultaneously repulsed her and entranced her. She could not take it for much longer. The strain of fighting against the sensation was becoming almost unbearable. "Harlianne, please! I know you are still in there somewhere. I need you now more than ever! I can't fight it, the hunger! I don't want to hurt you or anyone else! Help me--" she cried out, her voice quickly turning into a scream. She gripped fists full of her hair and clawed at her face, her nails drawing blood as they raked down her skin.

Her resolve suddenly broke. She couldn't fight the blood thirst any longer. The urge was so great that it hurt to neglect it or resist it. She basically collapsed down onto her knees in the midst of the horde of corpses. She leaned over and cupped her hands together in order to scoop up handfuls of blood. Without a second though, she brought her blood-filled hands to her parched mouth and drank the blood thirstily. Blood dribbled from her chin and ran down her neck as she drank several handfuls of blood.







Location: Inside then outside Twelve Daggers Tavern – Port of Tortuga




- "Smokestacks" by LAYLA



Edgard's smirk faltered when his gaze landed on Alisanne and took in her expression. She seemed almost--bored? Since when did she not find his murderous ways wickedly attractive? After all, they had been drawn to each other, from nearly the beginning, by the ruthlessness they had seen in one another. Something was not quite right here. She seemed more distant than normal, like she wasn't entirely there. His brows furrowed slightly as his blue-eyed gaze looked her over, taking in the icy blue gown she wore and the flowers pinned in her hair. It was oddly all the same as the day he had first met her. It seemed too precise, like it was a memory rather than reality.

The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. That niggling sensation that she was an illusion came back full force. But if she wasn't actually here then where was she? His facial expression hardened, and his stomach twisted into knots. She was still being held captive--or dead. He barely held back a feral growl at the thought of anyone harming her, let alone killing her. His hands shook slightly as they clenched into fists at his sides. Emotions swirled within him in a volatile mixture of anger and desperation. He wanted Alisanne, the real Alisanne, and he wanted her so bad that he had somehow conjured her up in his mind. He really was going mad, mad for her.

He was snapped out of his brooding thoughts as the fake Alisanne before him walked out of the tavern. NO! He wasn't ready for her to leave yet, even if she was just an illusion. "Alisanne wait!!" Edgard called out, running after her. He practically barreled through the doors of the tavern, and with long strides, he quickly caught up to her and cut her off. As he stood before her again, his mouth opened and closed, seemingly having trouble forming words as he stared at her. He noted that her attire had entirely changed. She now wore something that would more likely be seen on a peasant or slave. It was certainly strange, but he did not think much of it.

Edgard wordlessly closed the remaining distance between them. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips as his hands caressed her cheeks. "Mark my words. I will find you, and I will avenge you, mon amour," he vowed as he pulled away. His voice sounded determined, but his eyes revealed the emotions that were slowly tearing him up inside.
@Morose I have a quick question. Would Edgard be able to catch up to Alisanne, or do I need to roll for that? I am working on a post, and I will obviously be getting it up today since my counter turns to day 8 tomorrow.




Location: Westminster Hospital


- "Your World Will Fail" by Les Friction




Fyror nodded his head solemnly, before his gaze followed Dr. Graham's to the map on the wall. It was a shame that the doctor did not have a specific route in mind that would get them to Gretna Green the quickest. He himself was perhaps a bit lacking in knowledge of the roads in that particular part of the country, and particularly those beyond the border. However, he fortunately had sufficient resources on hand to get them where they needed to go. "I must consult my father Colonel Theodore on the matter. He may know of any back routes that could get us to Gretna Green quicker. If not, we will have to stick to the main roads. I have several maps that should suffice," he stated. He glanced over at Gerard as he spoke, making sure to include the man in the matter. He took a mental note of the additional places that Dr. Graham mentioned before bidding the man farewell as the man was called back to work. Fyror then turned to face Gerard fully. He nodded his head in acknowledgement of the man's introduction.

"I wish we could have had the pleasure of meeting under less pressing circumstances," he replied, before quickly getting to business. "My family is staying in an inn just two parks down. As I said, I need to consult with my father regarding what route would be quickest. I figure we can use one of the regiment's coaches. We will also need provisions, as the journey will take several days. I could just pick you up here once I get what we need." He didn't give Gerard much time to respond as he was already backing away, and soon enough he had turned his back to Gerard and had taken off at a sprint. His boots hit the ground with dull thuds and his sheathed sword clanked at his side as he wasted little time running through the halls of Westminster Hospital towards the front entrance.







Location: The Strand (Nuetermyre's)




- "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young




Thalken lifted his end of the dead body and then followed Michael's lead. He carefully helped carry the body inside Nuetermyre's to the backroom. He wrinkled his nose shortly upon entering said room, as practically everything was covered in a film of dust. He gladly dumped the body onto one of the blood stained tables, but he was subsequently rewarded with a thick cloud of dust. He coughed and quickly covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. His dark eyed gaze looked around the room, taking in its decrepit state with clear distaste.

He glanced over at Michael, barely catching what the man muttered under his breath. "That's assuming the cause of death was of Soulless origin," he stated, pulling his sleeve away from his mouth while he spoke. He then covered his mouth and nose again as he started coughing. He turned back towards the body, looking it over carefully once more. Surely there was some clue that would more obviously link it to the dead bodies found at the docks. He looked back over at Michael as the man offered him a handkerchief. Thalken eyed it for a moment before grudgingly accepting it. "Thanks," he muttered. The words were almost inaudible, but nevertheless he said them. Maybe things were looking up for him after all.

Meanwhile, at the Talink Estate, the Lady Virginia Crypt's letter had finally arrived at its destination. "Sir Beowulf, a letter has arrived for you from the Lady Crypt," a young servant boy exclaimed, grabbing the attention of Thalken's father Beowulf. He looked up from the papers he was going over, his dark eyed gaze landing on the servant.

"Give it to me then," Beowulf retorted gruffly and impatiently held out his hand. It was no doubt easy to see Thalken's resemblance to the man, both in appearance and mannerisms. This of course was to Thalken's utmost displeasure. The servant hastily handed the letter over to his rather imposing master and exited the room in a similarly swift manner. It wasn't unknown to the staff the kind of nefarious dealings the Talinks were involved in. With that in mind, one must tread carefully in this household if they wished to live to see another day.

There was little reason, outside a potential business transaction, for the Crypts to contact to him, so Beowulf wasted little time opening the letter and carefully reading it over. A smirk came to his features upon reading it. Given the content of the letter, regarding the dire circumstances surrounding the Viscount Wenwynith, it was certainly inappropriate to find any sort of pleasure from it. And yet, in a devilish way he did. He did not wish the family harm, per se. No, it was more that he found this to be a convenient opportunity to extort them into giving him what he wanted. Given the Crypts were a family of title, power, and riches, it was anyone's guess what he truly wanted. Ultimately, he would take full advantage of the unfortunate predicament the Crypt family had found themselves in. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began penning a simple letter in response.



Beowulf then sealed and addressed the letter before waving over a servant to take them. "Thalcona! Thalken!" he then called out to his children. His deep, demanding voice carried through the expanse of their home. After a few relatively short minutes, Thalcona alone emerged into the study.

"I surmise your brother is out causing trouble," he stated.

"Yes, father." Thalcona replied simply, nodding her head.

"Good then. We are taking the carriage to Crypt Manor to discuss the terms of a business transaction," Beowulf exclaimed as he stood up from his desk. "We are leaving now."
@Lady Amalthea@Sputnik

Traveling to Gretna Green along the Great North Road was no mean feat back then. Today, it takes a little over 5 hours via M40 and M6 to travel the 326 miles from London to the Scottish border town. In 1818, it took an average of four days, with carriages traveling an average of 6 miles an hour. Frequent stops to change tired horses and rest for food, and an overnight stop for a room at an inn added to travel time.
Jane Austen's World

Well that's comforting. Talk about the awkward carriage ride Gerard and Fyror are about to have. Ahahahaha! XD
I am starting to think more and more that Millicent is a goner. Yikes.

@Lady Amalthea@Sputnik Research time. Oh boy. Navigation isn't exactly my thing, so this shall be interesting. That's one disadvantage to playing a character who has skills that you don't in real life possess. Oh well, I'll make do. I will let you both know what I come up with. XD
@Lady Amalthea I have a couple questions. First of all, what is the quickest route to Gretna Green? XD

Second, the letter that Virginia sent would reach the Talink household this round, right? I just want to know when I can have Beowulf respond. :3




Location: Docks near the Bellona (Port of Tortuga)



- "Broken Crown" by Mumford & Sons



Something changed in Sirena. It was like a switch had been flipped on in her mind. Her feet moved barely of their own accord, while her question was lost to the wind. She stepped down from the deck of the Bellona onto the docks. The carnage seemed to call to something deep within her, drawing her closer and further into its depths. With light steps, she carefully maneuvered over and around the dozens of bodies that littered the docks. The weight of her blood drenched clothes was the only thing that seemed to ground her in reality. This was all too surreal. It would make sense for one to be disturbed given the circumstances, and at one point she was. But now, she was--she was entranced? Her brows furrowed, and her stomach knotted up increasingly the further she went into the horde of corpses.

She felt weaker by the second, succumbing to the foreign sensation that was weighing her down. She involuntarily licked her lips. She felt parched, and her stomach felt like it had been empty for days. She was quickly being consumed by the hunger, but it wasn't for food or water. It was for something else. She couldn't quite put her finger on it just yet. Her blue eyes looked down at the corpses that surrounded her, and no sooner had she done that did she realize that she couldn't look away. She was entranced. Her breaths came in and out more rapidly, and she shook as she got down onto her knees. She had an unbearable urge for "blood." The word didn't sit well on her tongue, but it mattered not. Nothing could stop the hunger except for what she hungered for.

Sirena touched her head and then looked down at her hand to see that it had come back with some fresh blood. Her hand shook as she brought it to her mouth and tasted the bitter, coppery substance. She licked up the blood that began to trickle down the corner of her mouth. She barely had time to reflect upon the taste of it when Harlianne's voice suddenly broke through to her. Her head whipped to the side, and her eyes widened at her best friend's exclamation. Harlianne didn't recognize her? What the hell was happening to both of them?! They were both alive but clearly not themselves. She cautiously got to her feet as she eyed the bared cutlass in her Harlianne's hand. "I-I honestly don't know anymore," she replied in a shaky voice. And her statement wasn't that far from the truth.







Location: Twelve Daggers Tavern – Port of Tortuga



- "Prey For Me" by Korn



How could something that felt so real be a sham? Edgard did not think it was possible for one to feel the touch of another's skin and yet that person not truly be there. Who would believe such a thing, especially when their heart and soul had been yearning to see that loved one again? Perhaps it was naïve of the man to not dismiss this as a powerful delusion, considering not that long ago he had learned that an attempt had been made on her life. However, the truth of the matter was that if he had one weakness and one blind spot, it was surely Alisanne. She was the sole person in this world whom he loved and care for. Death and destruction was the only other thing that could ever capture his heart, but even that was fleeting in comparison.

Edgard's lips reluctantly left Alisanne's, and he pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against hers. He shook his head slightly at her chuckle, with a surprisingly lighthearted smirk coming to his features. He did not comment about her lack of affection in return because at the moment he did not really care. He was just beyond glad to see her again. Besides, showing emotion had never really been her thing. He was the fire to her ice.

His gaze followed hers to what remained of Édouard's crew. There appeared to only be twelve men left. His attention went back to Alisanne as she spoke up. His smirk grew at her words, and a dark glint that she was all too familiar with came to his stormy blue eyes. "As you wish, mademoiselle," he whispered in her ear. He then slowly backed away from her and gave her a wink before turning to face the measly crew. His countenance darkened at seeing them huddling in the corners like scared little children. His nostrils flared slightly. They were weak. He will greatly enjoy their demise.

"Sur vos pieds, vos lâches!" he commanded ferociously. "Et alignement devant moi." The twelve crew members seemed to look amongst one another for a moment before quickly obeying his command. It would seem that their fear of retribution for disobeying him was greater than their fear of being close to him. That would be the last mistake these ignorant fools made. Once they had lined up in front of him, he unexpectedly unsheathed his cutlass, sending a bolt of fear through them all. "Si vous fléchissez, vous mourez," he warned them with a growl. The irony of the situation was that it did not matter what they did. They were all going to die anyways, but they did not need to know that. He raised his cutlass and pointed it at them as he walked slowly down the line. His gaze bored into each of them, and he could see them beginning to sweat out of nervousness. However, they all held pretty unflinchingly still, believing that would keep them alive. How naïve.

He stopped at the last man in the line, who was closest to the exit of the tavern. In the end, when all hell broke loose, they would have to go through Edgard to escape. He lowered his cutlass slowly, giving them a false sense of hope. Just as they started to relax, he suddenly brought up his blade, and in one swift mood, he practically decapitated the nearest crew member. The others tried to unsuccessfully hide their horror, and yet they still remained in their line up, as if that would save them. How foolish. He hacked two more down before the lot of them seemed to figure out what was up, that Edgard Pyrbeest, the Baron of Blood and Fire, was on a killing spree. Some tried to make a run for it just to be cut off and cut down by him. Others tried to protect themselves with their own blades just to be gutted. One couldn't easily beat him in a sword fight after all. One man slipped past him, so he quickly pulled out his pistol, cocked it, and fired. Needless to say, that man wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. By the time Edgard had dispatched all twelve crew members, he had worked up a decent sweat. His face was coated with sweat and blood, and his already blood soaked clothing was further drenched. He looked at his handiwork for a moment with a devilish smirk and a sense of twisted pride. Body parts, guts, and blood covered the tavern floor. Talk about a productive day. He sheathed his cutlass and strode back over to Alisanne triumphantly.
>There's nothing quite like eating popcorn while writing about the slow demise of NPCs.

>There's nothing quite like eating popcorn while writing about the slow demise of NPCs.
@Lady Amalthea@Sputnik
"If you are going to make chase, I suggest you do it quickly."
Dr. Graham

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