An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Breaking Through the Surface Chapter 2 is finally out after much struggle and an entire chapter rewriting.
I decided to fuck it, and just write the fun parts and hopefully that'll speed up my writing. Enjoy!
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It has been at least two weeks since Nylarril was last on a boat and he was going stir crazy.
Unless there was a festival, a gathering of ships, or off-season, most Maormers were off on the seas raiding or pillaging.
Not to say there was nothing to do on the home islands. Families had to be raised, buildings maintained, ships to be built, wood to be gathered, and an endless amount of chores and maintenance to sustain a whole nation. But islands were islands. And theirs were not the expansive landscapes of their ancestral home of Summerset.
Pyandonea was an archipelago, a collection of islands gathered around each other. There was the main island that had the largest amount of land. That was set aside for most of the naval production and farming. Most of the other smaller islands were owned by various clans or communities, much like his own. Though the main island was large and plentiful, it still could not sustain a growing nation that had dreams and ambitions of overthrowing their golden cousins.
Thus, piracy. A decent amount of material and goods came from raids. Either individual companies who patrolled the coast of Tamriel, or those enlisted in the King’s army for more direct attacks on Altmer merchant ships. Those goods would then be distributed to their clans and people and the cycle repeated.
It was a good life, with plenty of opportunity to explore and flaunt their mastery of the sea over the other races. Which is why Nylarril was just about ready to get into a fist fight just to have a feeling.
With most ships ordered to shore leave, he was without any duties to perform. No goods to peruse or share with his family, no festivals to revel and get drunk at. What was the point of staying at shore if there was nothing for him to do?
What was worse was that he can’t stop thinking about that damn mermaid.
Those onyx eyes haunted him in the dark, and those glittering scales taunted him from the shore. He swears he could see a spine in the waters when he visits the beach on a bored afternoon. Of which he is doing again right now, walking toward the beach in an effort to entertain himself.
Anything of worth from the shipwrecks had been picked clean and stripped to the bones. The wood itself was starting to be dismantled, both for resources and to clean up the beach for eventual take offs. His family, though wonderful and storied of themselves, were poor company in extended down time and Nylarril did not want to be subject to his nagging mothers desires to petition for a promotion, nor his father’s endless drills in the courtyard.
No, he was going to escape to the beach to be alone with his thoughts and brood on the fact these storms were endless.
The welcoming scent of salt embraced him as he finally peaked a sand dune and he carefully walked down it to the water’s edge. He was alone this time around and he took this opportunity to lazily kick the foam or flip over shells to find little crabs scuttling away from him. Nylarril’s mind wandered and bounced from thought to thought until it landed once again on that silver mermaid.
What were the chances he, of all mer, would encounter a legendary being. Capable of unlimited magical feats, the downfall of greedy sailors, or plain unlucky ones who fell to their sly whims and sweet songs. He had the rare opportunity to meet one, and then it was gone. All that he had left was that silver scale he carried with him at all times as a reminder of that encounter.
Nylarril half convinced himself it was a dream after putting himself into a drunken stupor after that morning. But his memories were not wrong, and the scale was still in his possession. What was he to do with this knowledge?
He couldn’t share this with anyone, mermaids simply were no real. They were children storybook creatures, or allegories to what happens if one did not respect Mother Sea. Some sailors would come back raving mad and spouting tall tales of sea beasts and mermaids and waves taller than a mountain. A good smack to the head and shore leave usually sobered them up.
But Nylarril wasn’t mad. It was such a small encounter but it was driving him crazy knowing that it was real; they were in the sea, and now there was nothing else he could do except stew and live with this knowledge until the day he died. Hands dragged over his face as he groaned into the air.
“I need another drink or get into a fight, I can’t be going mad over this,” he muttered to himself.
While he was lost in his own thoughts, his feet had carried him further down the shore than he normally goes. Past the sands, he was now approaching the more rocky cliffs that supported the hills and forests of his home isle. In his youth he would explore this areas with his siblings and cousins, playing imaginary games of hidden treasure and battles in little coves and caverns. Now they were just empty caves filled with salty rocks and calmer waters.
It’s been awhile since I last came here, he thought. I wonder if that carving is still on the ceiling.
His older brother had carved an unflattering picture of their mentor into the ceiling of the cave ages ago. They both then used it as a target for throwing rocks or seeing if they could get the seaweed to stick to his face. A great way to end the day after endless hours of reading and spellcasting drills.
Without much else to do, Nylarril started to wade his way into the water and navigate around the rocky cliffside. When the floor eventually gave away to a sheer drop, he started to paddle his way out. It was a calm day in the sea, so it took him no time to make the turn and see the opening of the cave.
A modest cave with a wide opening large enough for a small skiff to fit inside. Deeper into the mouth of the cave was a ledge that was the dry land his childhood played on and did pretend battles on. From water to ledge, it took an old rope to help himself up and help from his older siblings. All he had to do now was reach up and pull himself up.
The cave still fit him at full height as he looked around. What was once a sprawling battleground between his brother and cousins, now it was a simple landing. More a personal hidey hole than anything anymore. It was low enough to the water that waves would splash up and wet the edge. Carefully he walked deeper into the cave as to not slip on the wet floor. Eyes darting left to right as memories resurfaced of playtime and bonding moments with his family members.
As he started to look up to find that carving he noticed something.
Something got dragged into here.
What he thought was just the waves crashing in, now he saw a long wet path that went into the back of the cave. As if someone pulled something out of the water and dragged it along the floor. It was recent as there were puddles where excess water pooled in the divots of the floor.
Not that there was any danger, but who knows which clan members or rival might've sought refuge in his childhood playground. A knife was quietly drawn from his boot as he padded silently along the wet path. The waves covered any sounds he could've picked up but caution was king when it came to ambushes.
Yet as he got further along his eyes caught a glint and it took all his willpower to not gasp.
A silver scale. No bigger than his thumbnail.
And another, a small cluster of them.
Could it be?
Tempering his anticipation, Nylarril slowly peeked around the last corner and beheld the end.
At the end of the cave was a small pool. Fed by a crack in the cliff where the ocean water could trickle in. He and his brother would sometimes catch small fish or crabs and keep them in the pool just to do it. Nothing larger than a mackerel ever went in that thing.
Now, he could see the serpentine coils that absolutely filled the pool. Spilling out and onto the cave floor where he could see them rise and fall with breath. He couldn't see where it ended, or where it began, but even from here he could see the mermaid wasn't doing well.
All along the coils he could see scabbed over wounds where the scales didn't cover. Broken spines and torn webbing from where it must've been caught in the ropes and netting that first time he met it. Some of them looked better than others with new scales trying to cover them. But what was most telling was how thin it looked.
It was only a brief moment where he saw the mermaid in full view when he was pushed underwater. Those coils looked strong and muscular even with debris dragging it down. Now these coils had bumps and ridges that suggested bones under the skin. A few places had folds that weren't caused by muscle or fat. He had half a mind to believe that it hadn't eaten in the two weeks he last saw it.
If there was ever a moment a mermaid was vulnerable, it was now.
He had to quickly pull his head back as those coils started to move and he saw the top of a back rise from the center of the pool. Without visual cues Nylarril had to rely on sound to tell what was going on. Perhaps, though, it was better to leave before he was noticed.
He made to back away from the corner and towards the entrance but didn't notice where his foot was. It landed right in a puddle and his boot squeaked loudly as it slid an inch backwards.
Instantly he made to run but it was too late.
As he scrambled to turn around and make a run for the water, the sound of sliding scales against rock filled the air and collided with his back. His knife was knocked out of his hand to clatter to the other side of the cave. Silver coils wrapped around his limbs and pinned him flat to the ground as onyx eyes bore holes into him.
“It’s you.”
Nylarril could only gape in shock as the mermaid spoke to him. Perfect Pyandonian, lips curled back into a snarl to reveal needle like fangs just begging to rip into him. He couldn’t escape, much less struggle. Every part of him pinned down by its coils that were more skin than muscles, but a hundred times more powerful than him. And if he didn’t figure out something soon, his bones would be turned to dust as they started to constrict him.
“It’s me, the one who cut you out,” he gasped quickly. “I didn’t know you were here, I was just looking around.”
“And what were you going to do once you found me?” it asked, each word rumbling deep in its body and vibrating through his. “Tell me, and I might kill you quickly.”
“Nothing!” he exclaimed. “I wasn’t going to do anything! Please just let me go, I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”
It leaned in closer, a hand dragging it’s claw up his neck until it lingered right over his jugular. Left it there as it hissed,
“And how can I trust your words?
It couldn’t. Anything Nylarril could possibly say could be refuted by the simple logic of distrust. What could he possibly give to gain the trust of a legendary creature that could just kill him to solve all it’s problems?
His life on the line, he blurted out the only thing he could possibly offer.
“I can help you, heal you. I can hunt for you until you can leave, just – ” he gasped “ – just don’t kill me.”
It squinted at him, baffled at how stupid his offer was. But the longer it stared at him the higher his chances of survival were. The constriction began to loosen as he sucked in a deep breath, and then was shoved away as he was released entirely.
“Then prove yourself,” it said. “Get me something now. Right now, or it shall be you I feast on.”
No need to tell him twice. Nylarril quickly got himself upright and ran to the exit of the cave to dive into the water. There was the possibility that he could just swim away and never deal with the mermaid again, but the threat was real and he didn’t know the full extend of a mermaid’s power to try and outplay it.
The quickest meal he could possibly get were school fish that hid around the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Easy enough to catch if one knew water magic like himself. With long strokes and swift kicks he propelled himself down and down until he saw a decent sized group of fish.
Hands out, imbuing the surrounding water with his magic, and he made a bubble around them. They could struggle all they want, but the magic made a current the fish couldn’t swim out of. He kicked off one of the rocks to reach the surface faster as he dragged his catch up.
When he broke the surface, he saw the mermaid had made its way toward the mouth of the cave. Looked like it was ready to jump into the water and chase him down. He didn't let himself think about it as he swam back and lifted the water bubble full of fish into the air.
Up and over, it spilled all over the cave floor and the mermaid pounced on it. Coils hoarding the flopping fish as it picked them up one by one and started tearing into them, swallowing them whole as it was finally relieved of hunger. Nylarril clung to the edge of the cave ledge watching the mermaid devour his catch.
I could run away, he thought. Distracted as she was it would be the perfect time. Leave behind his daydreaming of mermaids and legends and back to the reality of his home. But he couldn’t, not when his dreams and legends were sitting right in front of him. Tearing flesh apart and swallowing it whole.
It was only a few minutes but the mermaid had satiated her appetite enough to pause in her feasting and look towards him. Onyx eyes, squinting against a silver face as she spoke to him directly once more,
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
A brain thought that grew too big, and turned into a new project.
Enjoy some Maormer fanfic!
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Was it unlawful and cruel to go running for the shoreline after a massive storm churned up several lost and sunken ships in hopes of finding leftover treasures or supplies to enhance one's own ship?
Nylarril didn't think so, and so did a majority of the others living on Pyandonea.
For months now the sea was in a state of unrest with storms regularly falling over the island. It was the summer months when such storms were meant to happen. Scouting and raid operations were at a halt until there were calmer waters. Only those ordered by King Orgnum himself venture out and with no less than three storm mages per ship to grant them safe passage out of the misty veil.
Until then, Nylarril was home and was going scavenging.
It was going to be awhile before he was called to action and he was hoping to find some decent tools leftover on the ships. If not, he could find some old weapons to turn over to the smith to remake them into new blades. And if it really was a worthless endeavor to search around the wreckages, he could at least find dinner.
There was no one around his area of the shoreline, at least to his knowledge. He did wake up pretty early after the storm had passed over the island. It was a blessing none of the trees had crashed down on his home and only blew leaves onto his path. A minor inconvenience, so long as he didn’t slip on any of them.
Nylarril was waist deep in the belly of a ship, cracked open like a shucked oyster. He could see the different levels and what was left of the cargo floating pitifully around him. Nothing survived their stay in the sea as plenty of them had been eaten by the fish or boring clams chewed the wood into splinters.
He did find the armory of one ship and started collecting the best looking pieces onto a floating crate for ease of carrying.
‘At least today wasn’t a total waste,’ he thought as he piled more miscellaneous pieces into the crate. ‘I can probably convince the smith to make me a new sword out of this. If any of the metal is good.’
With loot in tow, and maybe a few pieces of gold he found in some random corners, he started to wade his way back to the shore. He momentarily got lost inbetween the towering shells of the ships around him and found himself deeper into the ship graveyard. It was there that he heard a noise.
There was a persistent splashing sound somewhere inside the ship’s hull. It could be any number of things that could’ve been caught up in the wreckage. Maybe it was a bit of debris that was hanging in a weird way to keep splashing. Maybe it was a creature wrapped up in some rope trapped. Either way, it was making noise and that could mean something worthwhile to see.
With a new goal in mind Nylarril waded toward the noise. Rope around his waist to keep his floating crate nearby, it took him longer than he thought to find the source of the noise. The closer he got to the splashing the stranger it sounded. It sounded less like a piece of debris being pushed and pulled by the waves and definitely like something was caught and thrashing around.
It wasn’t long until he ducked under a fallen beam and turned the corner when he finally laid eyes on the cause of the sound.
“Mother Sea preserve me!”
Trapped, wrapped up in a tangle of netting and ropes, was a mermaid.
Serpentine in shape, trapped half in and out of the water, Nylarril could see the glittering silver of its tail splashing in the water as it thrashed around trying to get out. Its arms were pinned to their body and it twisted this way and that way to try and loosen the ropes but only serving to tighten them more. It had gotten to a point where one of the nets must’ve dug into flesh as a steady trickle of blood dripped into the water around it.
His exclamation instantly caught its attention and Nylarril was caught frozen by the eyes that gazed into his own.
Like two pieces of onyx set into a silvery face, glittering from the reflections of the water. They squinted and were accompanied by a snarled mouth lined with razor sharp teeth. This mermaid meant harm in every way possible despite being trapped.
This could be a benefit to him.
There was very little to no information about mermaids, neither here in Pyandonea or in Summerset. Were he to capture this mermaid and bring it to a Captain or even a Commodore this could be a great boon to him. On the other hand… it was also told in myths that to try and use a mermaid for selfish reasons would only bring ruin to a person's name.
Choices, choices.
Of which were about to be severely limited as the longer he stood there like a dumb bluegill with his mouth open the more aggravated the mermaid became. So much so that Nylarril noticed the water orbs starting to rise up and were about to skewer him.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he exclaimed while also dispelling the orbs with a wave of his hand. Without magic to keep them up, the orbs splashed harmlessly back into the sea. Much to the surprise of the mermaid it seemed by the shocked expression on their face. It stopped it’s thrashing just long enough for him to raise his hands and speak again.
“I’m not going to harm you,” he blurted out. “I can… I can cut you down… If you let me.”
Great job, offering to help the thing when not a moment ago he was thinking of passing it off to a Captain.
But also he didn’t want to get stabbed to death with water.
Nylarril wasn’t exactly sure if it even understood Pyandonea but it wasn’t thrashing around anymore. It just kept… staring at him with those giant eyes. Blood kept trickling down some netting and dropping into the water, tainting it red. If there was ever a time to approach it was right now.
He untied himself from his crate, pushing it against a wall so it didn’t drift away. Hands up and slowly walking forward he approached the mermaid. As he approached he started to get a better look at it.
They were silvery before, but even closer up he could see the brilliance in their scales. The little bit of direct sunlight piercing past the clouds bounced off their scales in a kaleidoscope of colors. Nylarril’s knowledge of mermaids was sparse and few, but some of the readings and myths he knew mostly described mermaids as perfectly half fish and half humanoid.
This mermaid certainly was not, with the scales completely covering them from head to wherever their tail ended. They were more akin to lamia he’s seen on Tamriel, part women part snake beings. There was a long dorsal fin he could see poking out and tearing through a piece of a sail, possibly traveled the length of their tail.
Once he was close enough, Nylarril risked getting his dagger out. Slowly it came out of his sheath and the mermaids eyes were locked onto it instantly. There was a moment where he saw their tail twitch and causing a surprising amount of water to shift around him. Just how long was this thing?
But it wasn’t thrashing, and no shift of magic in the water made him think he was about to get skewered. So he carefully started to cut them free.
First starting well away from their body, pulling away the excess sails that were keeping it bound. Once those were away he could see the netting that were digging under their scales and causing them to bleed. Along their chest were familiar ridges of gills where the net was actually digging into flesh. And fairly deep with how much it was bleeding, and the pink of the inner gills were starting to become exposed.
“This is going to hurt,” he explained, as if the thing could understand him. Perhaps so, as it did nothing when his blade got closer to it. Maybe a slight flinch when the blade peeled away the first layers of netting, but nothing threatening anymore. It had to hurt eventually though, as he began to pick the netting and start to dig it out from the flesh. He heard a low rumble through their body and glanced to see it grimacing but looking away from the sight.
More netting he dug out of the flesh, a few small scales falling into the water below, until he finally tugged the last of the twine out of it.
“No more netting in there,” he announced. How strange that he was rather calm next to a practically mythical being. It probably had to do with seeing it trapped and bleeding that assuaged some of the glamour of it all. Not all things from Mother Sea were impervious after all.
There were only a few bundles of netting left keeping them hanging above the water and he solved it with a quick swipe of his blade.
Several things happened all at once then.
No longer bound and free to move, the mermaid shoved him backwards and into the water. Underwater, Nylarril was able to see the true length of this mermaid as it shifted around him. The length of two fishing boats stern to aft, it was a massive amount of body that was swirling around him and out of this ship graveyard. As the mermaid left he could see other parts of it’s body wrapped in sails and netting. And just like that, they were gone.
Nylarril got his feet under him and stood back up, wiping water out off his face to look at the empty area around him. All that was left was some blood lingering in the water, and glittering scales in the sand. He crouched down to pick one of them up. No bigger than one of his thumbnails, but it reflected sunlight like a mirror. Without this scale in his hand one could almost imagine that the mermaid was never here at all.
“I need a drink,” he finally said after a long pause. Nylarril collected his floating crate and retied himself to it and found his way out of the ship graveyard. When he reached the shore did he find others dragging their own loot out onto the beach. A few of them waved at him and called out,
“Found anything interesting out there?”
He thought about the glittering scale he stashed in his pouch. For a moment he thought about saying what he saw. Of onyx eyes and snarling teeth, and blood dripping from a mythical creature. And how it looked at him with wide eyes and kept still as he cut it free.
Oc aks you say? Gimmie uhhhhhhh each OC’s favourite meal/comfort food
LET'S GOOOOOOOOO
Kerasil - Mammoth stew as made by Melar. The peek of comfort food that makes the sores and aches in her body melt away. This is also Melar's favorite cause it's his wife's favorite:>
Yera - CHEESE BALLS. A rare treat but much easier to get than quality bone marrow but Yera's craving for them grows exponentially when she leaves home to Skyrim. Thank the Gods there are good cheese makers in Skyrim otherwise Yera would've perished early in her adventures.
Faylen - Pork Chops! Specifically boar but same difference. Great, meaty chops that'll satisfy any huntress on the move. Faylen may be more magically talented and a Spinner, but that doesn't disallow her from taking up the bow and having a great hunt like her parents.
Lorana Alithar - Stirfry noodles baby, filled with vegetables and seafood fresh from the sea. And if it has spice in it the better.
Brisala Alithar - Mushroom necromancer must have more mushrooms in her life. So a meaty stuffed mushroom is a great treat to have. Maybe a little messy at times but it hits the spot just right for her
Nylarril - Tuna steaks, or whatever the equivalent is in Tamriel. Big slabs of fish cooked to perfection caught on the high sea. Pair it with some stolen wine from the Bretons and fancy ceramics from the Altmers its a great way to end any day of piracy.
Syrenia - As a mermaid, there are very few opportunities for cooked meals so you take what you can. But if a 12 foot sea serpent mermaid has any favorite prey to hunt it has to be squid. Big Humboldt Squid like creatures make for a great hunt and a great meal after.
Recently just posted Chapter 4 of First Impressions, so nothing more from that side. However I did do more work on my Maormer x Mermaid fic so we're going to see a little bit of that!
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Nylarril latched the shutters closed to his home as another gust of wind tried to force its way in. Quickly he ran to the door just as the wood lurched under his hand. He cursed as he pushed his shoulder against it to finally lock it into place. Storm preparations done for now, he stepped back and collapsed onto a couch.
The storms had escalated in the last few days. It was bad enough that fishing vessels were grounded and an island wide warning was issued. Shelter indoor, gather in the community hall if the home was compromised, and absolutely no sailing. Nylarril rubbed at his face from the exhaustion of helping the rest of the clan board up shops and homes before finishing his home last. This was nothing new for him, but it was incredibly stressful and boring to be grounded on land for so long. There was a hundred other more interesting and more profitable ventures to be had out on the open ocean.
And yet, the ocean itself was trapping every Maormer back on home turf. And preventing outside forces from getting back in safely.
He overheard some others whispering that perhaps this was a warning from Mother Sea. If it was sever enough that King Orgnum was halting operations until the storm passed, it was stronger than his own storm magics. Another group hushed their whispering and told them to get back to work but the seed was planted already.
This, however, was the furthest thing from Nylarril’s mind. When he rubbed some of the sand out of his eyes he reached out to the nearby table and snagged a book off of it.
Urlagwyn’s Myths and Legends: Tales from Beneath the Waves.
Borrowed from the local library, along with a small stack of other books on his table. It was maddening how little there actually was on mermaids. Most of the collectively knowledge between Maormer were children stories or myths. Things expected to not be real and meant for making fantastical stories. There weren’t any real records of actual encounters published, just whispers between old sailors or journals that were written off as madness on the sea.
Yet there had to be something. Anything to support the silver scale he still carried. Something to give additional weight to those onyx eyes that pierced right through him. Or the blood that stained his gloves when he cut it free from the nets.
A little something I'm cooking up while I'm planning out a chapter for First Impressions.
tagging @tunarath and @skyrim-forever because they got to listen to me talk about Pyandonea and my OCs and I wanna thank them for that.
tagging to show WIPs if you like: @scalecallerpeak @yansurnummu @sigmaelxgr @sniperviper and anyone else, this is your time to share something you enjoyed doing!
Enjoy!
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Was it unlawful and cruel to go running for the shoreline after a massive storm churned up several lost and sunken ships in hopes of finding leftover treasures or supplies to enhance one's own ship?
Nylarril didn't think so, and so did a majority of the others living on Pyandonea.
For months now the sea was in a state of unrest with storms regularly falling over the island. It was the summer months when such storms were meant to happen. Scouting and raid operations were at a halt until there were calmer waters. Only those ordered by King Orgnum himself venture out and with no less than three storm mages per ship to grant them safe passage out of the misty veil.
Until then, Nylarril was home and was going scavenging.
It was going to be awhile before he was called to action and he was hoping to find some decent tools leftover on the ships. If not, he could find some old weapons to turn over to the smith to remake them into new blades. And if it really was a worthless endeavor to search around the wreckages, he could at least find dinner.
There was no one around his area of the shoreline, at least to his knowledge. He did wake up pretty early after the storm had passed over the island. It was a blessing none of the trees had crashed down on his home and only blew leaves onto his path. A minor inconvenience, so long as he didn’t slip on any of them.
Nylarril was waist deep in the belly of a ship, cracked open like a shucked oyster. He could see the different levels and what was left of the cargo floating pitifully around him. Nothing survived their stay in the sea as plenty of them had been eaten by the fish or boring clams chewed the wood into splinters.
He did find the armory of one ship and started collecting the best looking pieces onto a floating crate for ease of carrying.
‘At least today wasn’t a total waste,’ he thought as he piled more miscellaneous pieces into the crate. ‘I can probably convince the smith to make me a new sword out of this. If any of the metal is good.’
With loot in tow, and maybe a few pieces of gold he found in some random corners, he started to wade his way back to the shore. He momentarily got lost inbetween the towering shells of the ships around him and found himself deeper into the ship graveyard. It was there that he heard a noise.
There was a persistent splashing sound somewhere inside the ship’s hull. It could be any number of things that could’ve been caught up in the wreckage. Maybe it was a bit of debris that was hanging in a weird way to keep splashing. Maybe it was a creature wrapped up in some rope trapped. Either way, it was making noise and that could mean something worthwhile to see.
With a new goal in mind Nylarril waded toward the noise. Rope around his waist to keep his floating crate nearby, it took him longer than he thought to find the source of the noise. The closer he got to the splashing the stranger it sounded. It sounded less like a piece of debris being pushed and pulled by the waves and definitely like something was caught and thrashing around.
It wasn’t long until he ducked under a fallen beam and turned the corner when he finally laid eyes on the cause of the sound.
“Mother Sea preserve me!”
Trapped, wrapped up in a tangle of netting and ropes, was a mermaid.
