[hr][hr][center][img]https://s9.postimg.org/tznya388f/strange.png[/img][hr][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/0932819b33be06e4c32904e74e47a0e2/tumblr_onoy0hlU1s1rk4nywo2_540.gif[/img][hr][@Nallore][@BlueSky44][@FantasyChic][@mnkee][hr][h3][color=#0099cc][b]The Port of Tortuga: April 4th, 1719 - 3:37 PM Local Time[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr]	Alisanne chuckled a bit, not returning Edgard's kiss. She merely remained still, allowing him to indulge himself in the moment, before her gaze swept around the Twelve Daggers. There were still a few members of the crew who drew breath, most of them huddling in corners and looking at Edgard with horror. They had already watched one man turn to ash today--this was just the next thing in a line of insane events. And with Édouard died, their loyalty was then to Edgard, the man who they seemed to believe to be responsible. 

	[color=#b5ccf2]"Kill them all,"[/color] Alisanne whispered, staring at the crew with dead eyes. [color=#b5ccf2]"We have work to do."[/color]

	For Sirena, it seems her luck has not held out. While there was no immediate sign of something wrong, a gnawing hungry is building within her. As soon as she becomes aware of it, it'll become unbearable. No food or water will satisfy it, but with each passing moment, Sirena becomes more and more hungry. It's as if a switch has flipped in her brain and as she steps amongst the bodies of the dead, they may not appear appetizing but...there's something about them. Almost as if entranced, Sirena will find herself drawn to the corpses, helpless to fight the hunger--a hunger that consuming blood can only fulfill. 

	Harlianne's eyes continue to have more and more of a distant look to them. If she's noticed Sirena's new cravings, she hasn't said anything. Instead, the Bellona captain walked to the edge of the ship shakily, gripping the edge tightly. Her knuckles turned white and Harlianne trembled, trying desperately to remember something. She drew her cutlass and turned to face Sirena. 

	[color=#0099cc]"Who the bloody hell fire are yer? And wot the bleedin' divvy 'appened 'ere, then, eh?"[/color] Harlianne shouted, a mist appearing to cover her eyes. There was no more shakiness in her movements.[hr][center][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/0ca86ee0593b72d11a675894e7e85259/tumblr_oenbzow7fO1v97eq3o1_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][center][h3][color=#0099cc][b]The Devil's Triangle: April 4th, 1719 - 3:32 PM Local Time[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr]	The cool water seems to rush up to meet you. It's an uncomfortable experience, passing through it. It's like the chill on a cold day, stuck inside of you. There's no warming yourself up until you drop through, ending in what appears to be a cavern of sorts. In the middle, two sleeping forms lie with their hands entwined. It becomes obvious immediately, somehow - they're not dead. They're alive. And they're here, on this island. 

	[i]Find the flask.[/i]

	That urge continues to drive you forward, your each and every action. It's not hard to find it. Behind the sleeping pair, a small vial calls to you. Isaac rushes towards it and reaches his hand out, excited to cease his prize. His fingers may contact with it as his body solidifies, becoming more and more real, more and more [i]alive...[/i]

	...until it begins to fall apart, piece by piece, bone by bone. There is no blood, strangely enough. A pile of bones surroundings the flask, but a moment later, they have turned to dust. And in another minute, even the dust no longer appears to be present. 

	"Only the living can touch the flask," Septima whispered, her dark eyes alive and curious. They then fell on the sleeping couple. "We need them."