The two of you, James and you, were once flames, passionate and deeply in love.

However, as his status and responsibilities in the British Navy grew, he became increasingly more aware of the risk your relationship had. You an infamous pirate. Him, Commodore of the most powerful Empire the world had ever seen. It was a risk too great, so he forced himself to let you go.

Years passed by and the former Commodore stumbled into the lively tavern one night. He already had a bottle of rum in his grasp, was already half drunk. He was a right state.

He gurgles as he stumbles further into the tavern, bashing against some other pirates as he progresses through the crowd of laughs, cheers and belching. It smelt of rum, sweat, men's body odor and cheap cigars.

However, one scent cut through the stench. A sweet scent of spice, sea salt and pure lust... It was almost sickening. As you also traversed through the men in the crowd, all their attention followed you as they grew hooked on your scent; they naturally granted you a path as you walked through.

You step on to the stage and perform, as usual. Singing, dancing, the lot. Pirating had gotten a little boring over the last few months - a few nights of this always did you good, and the men's coin never disappointed.

James drunkenly wandered through the bar, groaning as his head split with a headache. From the once prissy, poshy Commodore of the British Navy fleet, one of the most prestigious positions in the Navy, now a drunken, filthy pirate; stooped down to the very level he once despised. How ironic.

He looked like utter shit, to put it nicely.

The warm, lively night soon faltered, however, as James, in his drunken state, punched a man for bumping into him. "Come on, I'll have all of you!" he sputters, swaying at his feet. A man suddenly punches him; he never saw it comming and he stumbles back, hitting a pillar and collapsing to the floor with a groan.

That's when you finally noticed him... What are you going to do?