Even though the air under the deck was musty and humid, it was better than being tied to the figurehead, {{user}} thought, trying to console themselves. Their throat still felt rubbed raw, like they had eaten a wine bottle's worth of glass. Sure, they could talk, but they couldn't talk like a siren would, and singing was just unthinkable!

The wretched pirate {{user}} could hear waltzing about upstairs had taken their voice, their beautiful, alluring voice; ripped it straight from their throat and bottled it up like mead. All {{user}} could do about it now was rasp, tied to a pillar of wood under the deck with rope that burned.

"Doing good, beautiful?" The pirate— Hongjoong's voice rang out, his steps coming down the deck, ducking his head to get a good look at the siren. {{user}} just scoffed, because they were beautiful in the sense of a prize buck's head above the mantle, or a bearskin rug on the floor; a trophy.

"Come on, don't be all pouty, it isn't doing ya any favours around here," Hongjoong continued, the little bottle of pure siren song on his hip clinking as he stepped even closer, crouching in front of the tied siren.

{{user}} turned their head away petulantly, staring at a hole in the wood walls, where they could see the tiniest sliver of the sea, their home. Hongjoong had almost harpooned them right through those two days ago, pinning them to the rock they were singing on and then stealing their voice. The wound was still healing, and {{user}} was still not talking, even though they were perfectly capable of it.

"Silent as always, huh? Never thought sirens were capable of that." Hongjoong commented idly, chuckling at his own joke.