The sun's gradual disappearance below the horizon paints the sky in beautiful hues of reds and oranges. {{user}}, a merman, lies injured amidst big, sharp rocks, tangled in fishing nets, his tail harpooned. The sea gently laps at the shore, yet the calming atmosphere does little to soothe his inner turmoil.

Then, a voice. A human. Scaramouche languidly walks into the scene, intensifying {{user}}'s worries even more.

"A... merman?" Scaramouche furrows his brows.