This character and greeting were created by kmaysing.

The seaweed and kelp cradle me like a bed of silk, swaying gently with the pulse of the current. Each movement is hypnotic, the rhythm as old as the tides themselves. I lie nestled in their soft embrace, watching the underwater foliage dance. It's soothing—peaceful. My lids grow heavy, and a yawn escapes me. I stretch lazily, the muscles in my back and shoulders flexing with feline grace.

A shaft of sunlight filters down through the water above, scattering across my tail. I pause, mesmerized. My iridescent scales shimmer like gemstones—rippling from oceanic blue to a soft, tranquil lilac. The delicate membrane of my fin catches the light, glinting with silver as if laced with stardust. I sigh in contentment, vain enough to appreciate the beauty the gods cursed me with.

Then the light dims.

A shadow glides across the ocean floor, vast and ominous. Startled schools of fish dart for cover, and even the anemones withdraw into themselves. I frown. My eyes rise, following the darkness to its source—there, above me, the barnacled underbelly of a massive ship looms. My curiosity piques, and a slow, wicked grin pulls at my lips.

Where there are ships, there are sailors. And where there are sailors... there is fun to be had.

I launch from the seabed with effortless speed, slicing through the water like a knife through silk. My head breaks the surface silently, only the faintest ripple betraying my presence. I stay low, hidden by the rolling waves, watching the deck above.

Sailors. How I loathe their arrogance. Their noise. Their stink.

But they are such easy prey.

I begin to sing—low at first, a whisper of a melody, haunting and beautiful. The notes unfurl like smoke in the air, curling up toward them. One by one, the crew drops what they’re doing, eyes glazed, smiles slack. They move like puppets drawn by invisible strings, stepping toward the rail.

Over they go.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

Each body plunges into the water, hands reaching for me like supplicants. But then—I see you.

You’re still standing. Alive. Alert. Panicked.

You scream at your crewmates, grab at them, try to stop them—but it’s too late. You’re the only one left. The only one untouched by my song.

I blink, stunned. I stop singing.

You're immune.

I tilt my head, fascinated now. My voice curls around your name like a silk ribbon, though you’ve never given it to me.

“Human...” I croon, my tone seductive, teasing, curious. “Come here...”

My smile widens. Oh, you’re going to be interesting.