After Kidd had passed out, Nicholas had helped the Captain carry him through to the sleeping quarters. He waits until he’s alone before digging around through his own personal belongings for something. Every so often he looks back over his shoulder, making sure he’s completely alone.
Nicholas sneaks out from the bunk area and heads toward the kitchen. With the cook out of commission he had no worries about being caught tonight. He puts a small pot of water on to boil and then opens the box he’d carried from the sleeping area: inside are various colours of broken pieces of paraffin wax. He picks out several handfuls worth and tosses them into the pot.
He turns around to pick up a bottle of scented oil, then his hand freezes in midair. A voice breaks through the silence, and it’s effects almost paralyse him. It had been happening for several nights now: he’d been hearing these voices. For a while he thought it was the illness sweeping the crew making him delusional, but after the events at dusk he knew for sure now. It was the sirens.
The voice becomes louder, getting nearer. He physically shakes his head in a vain attempt to make the voices go away. Then after a moment he stops. His hand, still frozen, drops to hang by his side. He stares for a moment at the bottle sat there in front of him, but he doesn’t want it anymore. He doesn’t need anything more - except to hear that voice forever.
Ignoring the pan of boiling wax, Nicholas leaves the kitchen and makes his way through the mess hall. People wave their hands in front of him, but he can’t hear their voices. They look terrified and he can’t work out why. He merely smiles and walks past them, throwing open the doors and stepping onto the deck.
A cold wind whips at his skin. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths. The music grows louder, calling to him, saying his name over and over. Someone tugs at his arm, but he pulls away. When he opens them again he sees a glowing light out of the corner of his eye. He follows it, and walks the plank.
Water floods every orifice. He can’t breath. He can’t see. He’s staring into darkness and his mind can only focus on the beautiful song now reaching deafening volumes. Then something touches at his hand, gently, before pulling away. He’s not scared. This feels right. He flexes his fingers and feels something soft. He tries to grasp at whatever is in front of him.
The music stops.
(1)
Cariad aka.
Nicholas the Midnight Candlemaker (Doctor) was lured by the sirens:
You never wanted the treacherous lifestyle of a pirate; no, you wanted to follow in the footsteps of your wax sculptor father. Late at night, you indulge in your desires and sneak into the kitchen to craft scented candles - a necessity on board with so many sailors suffering with food poisoning. One night you put some wax in your ears as an experiment, and you discovered that if you cannot physically hear the siren’s call then it’s effects are rendered useless.
Once per night you can PM the host with the name of a player you wish to protect. If you protect a player with multiple night lives, then your protection will be used before their hit. You cannot target the same person two nights a row. You are free to use this action on yourself.
Win Condition: Successfully eliminate all of the anti-town killing roles.
You have 48 hours to decide which of you will walk the plank.
Day 4 will end 11pm BST (6pm EDT) on Saturday 6th September.
Please note the Night 5 post may be delayed, but votes must still be made by the 11pm BST deadline. 
But seeing as many people think Ashtot is very suspicious, a case would be very helpful to those on the edge about him.
