[color=#DEC5D6][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33bpHQY.png[/img][/center]
[color=#8D3B72]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=#8D3B72]Location:[/color] Tough Tavern
[color=#8D3B72]Interactions/Mentions:[/color] [@Apex Sunburn] Sjan-dehk, [@CitrusArms] Stratya, [@Lava Alckon] Drake, [@princess] Charlotte, [@Tpartywithzombi] Ariella, [@Samreaper] Kazumin, [@Potter] Olivia
[color=#8D3B72]Aesthetic:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/V5HP5na.png]Outfit[/url]


[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1064772112633569330/1100627858638000148/Banner.png[/img][/center]

[YouTube]https://youtu.be/TAWYla6c8zU?si=A1nJJCSsuQBiDSJt[/YouTube]

The Tough Tavern was bustling with wood creaking, ale spilling, and the thick scent of salt and sweat clinging to every beam. Kalliope was on her third or fourth drink at this point, having decided to stop counting. She had only intended to have a drink, maybe two and wash away the stress of the banquet from several nights ago. She'd considered seeing what Sjan-dehk was doing, however she didn't want to pester him. She knew he was busy and after their discussion the other night, she wanted to give him some space. So here she was, alone yet enjoying the aura of the Tough Tavern.

Sailors shouted in drunken unison, a dozen voices half in tune and all in spirit. The fiddler by the hearth sawed away at a lively rhythm while a man with a dented concertina wheezed out the melody, and the song that filled the air made Kalliope’s heart twitch with recognition.

[color=#70CFFF]“There once was a man from Fisherman’s Cove…
With a wee little clan to feed…”[/color]

She froze for a moment, a crooked smile touching her lips. Tales of Luria. A shanty she knew better than most–part ghost story, part warning, all salt and sorrow. How many nights had she heard it hummed under breath aboard a ship bound for nowhere? How many times had she sung it herself, when decompressing in a tavern somewhere?

The men by the hearth were butchering it, of course–too drunk to keep time, too loud to care. And yet when they reached the chorus, she couldn’t help herself.

[color=#8D3B72]“Heave, ho, bully boys, row—”[/color]

Her voice joined theirs from the bar’s shadows, rich and smooth as spiced rum, cutting through the raucous din.

[color=#8D3B72]“The siren’s comin’ for ye…”[/color]

It turned heads. The fiddler stumbled mid-note. The drummer’s hands paused, eyes wide as if he’d seen an apparition. Then a slow grin split the lead sailor’s face.

[color=#70CFFF]“By the gods, that’s the siren herself!”[/color] He bellowed, slapping the table. [color=#70CFFF]“Don’t stop now, lass! Sing us another verse!”[/color]

Kalliope smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. [color=#8D3B72]“You lot sound like you’ve never met a woman before,”[/color] she teased, voice low and wicked. [color=#8D3B72]“Fine then, let’s see if you can keep up.”[/color]

She stepped closer, hips swaying in rhythm as the concertina started again. The fiddler grinned like a fool and followed her lead, bow dancing faster. Kalliope threw her voice into the second verse, and suddenly the tavern came alive to her.

[color=#8D3B72]“There once was a bloke from Blaggard’s Bluff–
A drunken fool was he!
He’d stay out late, la-di-da-di-da,
To fill his cup with mead!”[/color]

Her tone wrapped around the lyrics like velvet over steel–playful, lilting, hypnotic. The sailors stomped their boots, tankards thudding in rhythm as laughter shook the rafters. When the chorus hit again, more joined in and sang with her.

[color=#8D3B72]“Heave, ho, bully boys, go!
The melody haunts my dreams–
She sings her song and reels in every…
Sailor to the deep!”[/color]

Someone shouted, [color=#FFB870]“Dance, Siren, dance!”[/color] and that was all the invitation she needed. Kalliope threw back her head, laughing, and climbed onto the nearest table. A sailor–broad, bearded, and far too drunk to know better–joined her with a roar of delight. Together they stamped to the rhythm, boots drumming against wood, hands clapping as the music climbed toward madness.

The fiddler spun the tune wild; the drummer pounded so hard the mugs jumped. The sailor twirled her in a clumsy arc and nearly fell, however she caught him by the collar and steadied him, laughing so hard it made her eyes shine.

[color=#8D3B72]“Legend tells she’s still abroad—
Beware the voice at sea!”[/color]

By the final verse, quite a few in the tavern were singing, shaking the night apart with the chorus.

[color=#8D3B72]“Might be comin’ for ye!”[/color]

When the last note died, Kalliope stood breathless, flushed, and grinning like a woman possessed. The sailor beside her gave a mock bow before collapsing back into his seat, and someone shoved a tankard into her hand.

She raised it high, voice hoarse but glowing. [color=#8D3B72]“To the sirens,”[/color] she declared, laughter bubbling in her throat. [color=#8D3B72]“May they take only the boring ones!”[/color]

Many howled in approval and as thunder rumbled faintly on the horizon, Kalliope drank deep, her pulse still keeping time with the sea. As she hopped off the table and collapsed into a booth next to some familiar noble faces.[/color]