[color=DimGray] [center][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/327609362279301122/1129579214526492765/NYX_5.png?width=506&height=506[/img][/center] [color=DarkViolet][b]☽Location☾[/b] [/color]Port Vanarosa [color=DarkViolet][b]☽Time☾[/b] [/color] Morning [color=DarkViolet][b]☽Mentions☾[/b] [/color] None [hider=☽Sirenas Voices (what she hears)☾][url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZM-3zi5wzVg[/url][/hider] [hider=☽Bits and Bobs Shop☾]Shop is currently closed[/hider] [hr] [i]Time had faded since her previous visit, Sirena had been in Port Vanarosa for at least a month. Seeking solace in the seedier corners of towns, cities, and ports, she catered to the shady characters, offering an array of items acquired through chance discoveries, brazen thefts, or her own craftsmanship. A delicate dance with hiding in the shadows sustained her, affording sustenance and means of travel, while her uncanny knack for blending with unusual hideaways ensured safe passage when necessary. Decrepit barns and abandoned buildings sheltered her during her travels. If something was not suitable, Sirena would find solace within the woods safe away from the towns. Yet, traversing treacherous paths came as an expected burden for Sirena. Alone, she wandered through realms, burdened by her very nature as a dark fairy. Her existence attracted hate and loathing. Verbal onslaughts, projectiles hurled with disdain, and physical assaults became the theme of her journey, staining her days and nights with anguish both in pain and loneliness. And this time was no different.[/i] The break of dawn offered a fleeting reprieve from the nightmarish shadows that enveloped her world. As the first rays of sunlight penetrated the stable's splintered wooden planks, its feeble glow caressed Sirena's delicate features. Her moon-struck hair, glowed its white glow as her pale skin nearly blended into her white dress. She wore a black cloak that hugged her body tightly was the cold night air. Her head rested upon a modest mound of hay, her eyes tracing the spectral dance of light as it ascended, casting a sense of hope. In this brief moment, the clamor of her restless mind dulled, granting her a semblance of peace. As the sun ascended, its light cascaded over Sirena's emaciated form, illuminating the stains of blood that stained her tattered dress. As the stream of light traveled, it unveiled a crimson gash, etched upon her swollen lips, as a reminder of the night's event. The mottled hues of black and purple painted her bruised face, the fresh wounds adorning her right eye. The night prior, as Sirena concluded her shop for the evening, a feeling of darkness engulfed her surroundings, invoking the presence of things not welcomed. The nocturnal hours, once a veil of serenity, became a reminder of murmurs and unseen terrors. Seeking relief from the voices and visions that plagued her, she sought solace in a tavern, where copious amounts of ale became her refuge—a means to silence the chaos in her mind, to lull herself to sleep. It was a habit she had acquired, a ritual born out of necessity. Having enjoyed her evening deeply, she stumbled back toward her current home, the barn that had briefly become her sanctuary, only to encounter a group of men on her way. Like a sack of potatoes, they tossed her about callously, their bully-like behavior escalating into a sickeningly personal assault. The limits of her welcome had been met; it was time to flee. The men continued to kick and punch her. It wasn’t until she collapsed to her knees that they decided to leave out of fear of being caught… Suppressing the night's haunting memories, Sirena hastily gathered her possessions, her mind now fixed upon leaving. If she could reach the docks before the light fully claimed the sky, her chances of boarding a ship and finding refuge in its hidden recesses would increase. The art of sailing had become an unwritten expertise of hers, as her presence remained undiscovered to this point. Her comfort in voyages grew, disembarking at ports and lingering until her instincts summoned her onward. It was then that Sirena would find a new ship to board, stowing herself away for weeks. She would be active while the crew slept, creeping around to find food and other things she needed, returning back to the original place before anyone would notice. Nearing the docks, she moved with thought as she tried to draw little attention to herself as her gaze, a calculating dance, began assessing the vessels tethered within the docks. Amidst the shadows, her eyes fell upon the Saltrunner—an imposing craft that exuded an aura of dormant power. Its seemingly vacant deck and lack of a vigilant crew presented an opportunity too enticing to ignore. Silently melding into the obscurity of her surroundings, Sirena slipped aboard the ship, her cloak shrouding her form, rendering her almost unnoticeable. Finding her way under a staircase, She slipped under them covering herself with her cloak so as to not be seen. Her nervous breath intertwined with the salt-tinged air that hung heavy around her. But as the stillness draped her like a shroud, a chilling voice emerged, an ethereal whisper that clawed its way into her consciousness. "Sirena... Suuuuuuhhhh-reeeeeeee-naaaaaaaa," it slithered, tormenting her senses, compelling her to recoil, to fold in upon herself, seeking refuge within the sanctuary of her own knees as she rested her chin on them. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she waited. [/color]