As Sirena entered the Twelve Daggers
, a well dressed man brushed by her on his way out. Sirena’s entrancing blue-eyed gaze drifted upwards to look at the man, taking in his features for a moment. There was a certain weariness to his face, with his hair turning from a rich brown to an elegant silver in various places. He nodded politely at her by means of apology, before quickly walking into the crowd of people in the streets of Tortuga, and vanishing from sight. No sooner had their gazes met did she break the eye contact, barely even having acknowledged the man’s apology as her attention moved elsewhere and the man was quickly out the door. Her cool gaze took in the people occupying the room to finally land on one of the most raucous of them all: Édouard. "Ah, c'est amusant! La bête sans son maître!"
Édouard cried out, taking another chug of his pint. A few others in the tavern--all of them Frenchman under Édouard's command--roared in laughter similarly. One of them threw a hunk of hardened and stale bread at the so called beast--a man sitting alone in the corner, his hands trembling and his eyes covered in bandages. Édouard was so absorbed in his tormenting of the poor man that he didn't notice Sirena enter the tavern.
Sirena smoothly and confidently made her way across the tavern towards Édouard. She could feel the heated gazes of men on her, but she made her intentions clear. No man would interest her apart from the one she had her gaze trained on. Her charming smirk disappeared for a moment and she raised an eyebrow as a man chunked a hard piece of bread across the room. Her eyes followed the trajectory of the bread to land on the apparent target, a man with bandaged covered eyes who was sitting in the corner of the room. She let out a small sigh and rolled her eyes before returning her attention to Édouard. She quickly tried to close the distance between them. She was nearly to him when something the victim said stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Stop! I dasn't want t' hurt you!" the bandaged man warned, moving his hands to cover up his bandages, as if that would somehow afford his eyes an extra layer of protection. "'Tis th' curse o' th' Devil's Triangle!"
Sirena’s gaze snapped over to look at the man. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her head tilted a bit to the side. Curious words. Perhaps he would have more useful and accessible information than the French man child.
She pursed her lips in thought as her gaze went back and forth between the two men. After a few moments of contemplation, she finally opted for the man with the bandage covered eyes. She abruptly turned on her heels and strode over to the man. She cleared her throat as soon as she came up alongside him. “Mind if I joined you?
she asked. However, she did not bother to wait for him to answer, sitting right down in the chair across from him. “You have an interesting story to tell, no doubt. Please do tell. I am intrigued to know.”
The man didn't remove his hands from his eyes, but there was something odd in his movements. "Miss, ye dasn't want t' be talkin' wi' me," the man said simply, sniffling slightly as another hunk of bread hit the back of his head. Félix, Édouard's righthand man, was the culprit this time. He paused for a moment, before tilting his head to look at Sirena straight on. Of course, with his hands and the bandages in the way, there was no possibility that he could see her. "You be havin' beautiful eyes. Blue like th' sea." Oh really now? Well, all you are doing is making me want to find out more and more what you know and what you are hiding,
Sirena thought to herself as she leaned forward unperturbed. She let out a slightly exasperated sigh when another hard piece of bread hit the man. She was tempted to throw a glare in the direction of the culprit but thought better of it. She wasn’t here to start a fight. She was here to get information for her captain about the cursed flask, the very flask they were set out to find for Mr. Alucard. She was not about to ruin her chances of getting valuable information over the mere pettiness of men.
Sirena’s brows furrowed at the man’s strange behavior. The way he turned his head to look at her straight on, despite the fact that there was no way he could see her through his hands and the bandages. It was just plain creepy. But the words he spoke next are what truly made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She inhaled sharply, “How in the—”
She was cut off by an annoyingly familiar voice. "Mademoiselle Ikaria! Ne parle pas avec cet homme!"
Édouard called out, recognizing the beauty seated across from the man. Finishing off his pint, he slammed the mug down on the table and motioned for his men to stay back for a moment. He practically swaggered over to Sirena and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ma cherie,"
he greeted with a smile, before sending a particularly foul scowl at the bandaged man.
Sirena’s jaw clenched as she bit back a groan of annoyance at hearing Édouard call out to her. Why now?!
She took a deep, calming breath before looking over her shoulder at him. She watched as he finished off his rum and slammed the mug down before swaggering
over to her. Yes, he swaggered.
If he thought that was meant to be attractive, then he was terribly mistaken. It was downright comical to her. A smirk played at the corner of her lips. She maintained eye contact with him as he approached her. There was a gleam to those entrancing blue eyes of hers. “Édouard,”
she returned his greeting in a voice that was like velvet. She smiled warmly up at him before glancing down at the hand he rested on her shoulder. She looked back up at him, then over at the strange man she had been talking to previously, and finally back at the hand rested on her shoulder. She let out a small sigh. She did not have time for this nonsense. She lightly pushed Édouard’s hand off her shoulder before turning her attention to the bandaged-up man she sat across from.
Édouard raised a bit of an eyebrow, uncertain by Sirena's action. His mates in the tavern rolled their eyes, nudging each other and gesturing towards their fearless leader, so easily brushed aside by a thin little thing. The world was run by men and Sirena's actions caused when little respect they had for Édouard to diminish. Yet Édouard's reaction to Sirena was hardly any better than that of his men. Anger grew on his face as his hands trembled, before falling onto his cutlass.
Her countenance grew deadly serious. “Now where were we,”
she began. Her voice was no longer sweet and charming but instead had an edge to it. If the man wanted to play hard, she could play harder. “I am just going to be frank with you. What do you know of the cursed potion flask that Mr. Alucard has paid many a man to find?”
The bandaged man shook his head at Sirena, his hands falling onto the table. He gripped it tightly, as if he might find some strength from the wood. "Don't get yersef involved in this business, miss," the man replied quietly. "It'll only brin' ye pain." But Édouard pulled his cutlass and pointed it towards the man, as a method of regaining his honor. There was no honor to be had in attacking the woman who brushed off his hand. Yet to impose his well on the deformed man in front of him--that would go over well with his mates and potentially cause them to forget his earlier transgression. "Comment tu t'appelle?"
Édouard sneered, crudely asking the man what he was called. "C'est pour ta pierre tombale,"
he explained, as a mug of rum crashed into the table, lobbed by one of his men or simply another drunkard in the tavern. Anyone could have thrown it. But it elicited no reaction from the man, as either he didn't care or he simply couldn't understand the Frenchman.
Sirena was about to open her mouth and respond to the man when Édouard unexpectedly drew his cutlass and pointed it at the very man she had been speaking to. God damnit, what does he think he is doing?!
She stood up abruptly, causing her chair to screech loudly as it was pushed backwards. Her breath came in sharply as her wide-eyed gaze went from the bandaged-up man to Édouard’s angry face. She was not scared. She was in shock. But fortunately, the gears in her head began to turn as she quickly came up with a solution to this unexpected predicament. As a mug of rum was thrown at the table, shattering and sending shards of glass in the air, she knew time was even more of the essence. Resorting to violence to resolve this would likely only make matters worse, so she would have to fix this the only other way she knew how.
She gingerly reached out and caressed Édouard’s face with her hand. She ran it across his cheek and down to his chin. She lightly grabbed his chin and tried gently coaxing him to turn his head to meet her gaze. With her other hand, she placed it on top of his hand that was holding the cutlass. She pushed down on his hand, trying to get him to lower the cutlass that was pointed threateningly at the bandaged-up man. “No. Don’t kill him, please,”
she pleaded with him softly as she shook her head. “I don’t know that you understand anything I am saying, but I will try regardless. I beg of you not to kill him. I need information from this man. He is worth much more alive than dead. Please put down your weapon.”
Édouard appeared to respond well to Sirena's actions, despite not understanding a single word she said. While it might have been sensible for the Frenchman to attempt to learn English at one point or another in his life, he never had. He detested the language and found it foul, harming the ears of all who heard it. But out of Sirena's mouth, it never sounded lovelier. He grinned at her, enjoying the tone of those meaningless words and allowed her to push down the cutlass. A few of his mates whistled approvingly, taking the change in dynamic well.
Sirena pulled her hand away once Édouard had lowered his cutlass, her hand falling back to her side. The hand that still held his chin in a light grip moved to rest on his strong shoulder. She hoped that her gentle touch would keep him calm for the time being. “Thank you,”
she murmured. A small smile played on her features as she met his gaze. She kept her hand rested on Édouard’s shoulder as her attention returned to the other man whom still stood in their presence.
"What could I possibly be worth t' ye?" the bandaged man murmured, a bit of surprise in his voice. "Just one drop be enough t' seal me fate. Jus' one. 'Tis too much fer any man t' handle, miss." “I get the impression that you have more information on the cursed flask than these Frenchmen. That information is invaluable to my captain. And there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for my captain.”
she explained, before addressing his last statement with a smirk forming on her face. “Well, it is a good thing then that I am not a man. I am a woman.”