#also these mer reproduce via eggs

[sisters-sideblog]

Some concept sketches for a few of the other Mer in Link's new pod!

Gully = Kelp Greenling Osfala = Opah or Moonfish the Witch = Anglerfish Zelda = Eel/dragon Irene = Pinnate batfish (juvenile form) Seres = Blue Whale Rosso = Copper Rockfish

I tried to stick to mostly cold water fish. Link and Irene are roughly the same size, for scale. (Though Zelda should really be even bigger.)

[timeshuffles]

this blog is like 90% worldbuilding presently and i would apologize for that but i’m not actually sorry so HERE HAVE SOME MORE 

mer folk:

live in large schools in warm, shallow waters. sociable and curious. the most humanlike in nature of the marine peoples

often build sprawling cities along the contours of coral reefs. coral, stone, wood salvaged from shipwrecks, and woven kelp are common building materials. barnacles are encouraged to grow on permanent structures, as they offer an extra layer of durability and protection from the elements.

vast forests of kelp are tended to and carefully farmed; farming communities often weave their homes into the upper reaches of the kelp forests

diet primarily composed of various seaweeds, though dishes composed of plankton are an important staple as well. eating fish, mollusks, and crustaceans is a huge taboo. historically shark meat has been considered a delicacy, but it has since fallen out of fashion as the role of agriculture in mer society grows

most mer speak a common tongue they share with most of the fish / mollusks / crustaceans they share their waters with. this, as you might imagine, is why eating those things is so taboo.

there have been many, many, many dolphin wars. absolutely no love lost between mer folk and the dolphins

mer folk are not sirens, and do not have any common ancestry with sirens, but maintain friendly relationships with them, and mermaids with vocal talent and violent inclinations will sometimes travel to siren colonies to learn the art of hypnotizing human sailors with their voices.

human fishing vessels are a perennial hazard for mer schools, and getting caught in a human net is widely considered a worse fate than death for a mer; there are many, many horror stories about what happens to those who fall into human hands.

on the other hand, mer occasionally join the crews of human pirate ships, a lifestyle that mostly appeals to the young, reckless, adventuresome types. they are typically welcomed for their skill in hunting for treasures in ancient shipwrecks and sabotaging enemy ships from below.

female mer lay eggs, usually just one or two per year. these are then fertilized in extremely private ceremonies by male mer, and hatch after several months into fry about the length of a human forearm. mer folk have absolutely no concept of sex, and are absolutely baffled by human art depicting, for example, mermaids kissing human men.

language composed of clicks and languid, flowing calls that sound very much like music to human ears. they are capable of mastering human speech, though as it is nearly useless underwater they seldom bother to do so.

sirens: 

are not actually one of the marine peoples, but nest along rocky coastlines and coastal cliffs and are often confused with siren-trained mer folk by human sailors (and after all, if a half-human creature is trying to sing you to your watery doom, are you really going to look close enough to see whether she has feathers or fins?)

demonstrate extreme sexual dimorphism, with males being large, flightless, powerful swimmers and females much smaller, more birdlike, and capable of extended flight.

seagulls are extremely popular pets for siren families, and are commonly trained to dive-bomb, scream at, and generally harass human sailors

sirens are opportunistic omnivores who will eat anything. this is the biggest point of friction between mer and siren communities, and in the past has been the catalyst of several wars. (sirens are now obligated by treaty to refrain from hunting in mer territories.)

siren colonies are visible from a great distance on sunny days, as they like to decorate their nests with sea glass, polished shells, and jewelry stolen from their human victims.

form intense pair bonds and mate for life. a mated pair will typically produce 4-6 chicks over the course of their adult lives.

their language is a patchwork of corrupted mer and human tongues, with a collection of whistling calls and chattering sounds woven in. 

selkies: 

selkies are masters of disguise known for their great skill in crafting magical illusions and glamors. they are the elfin kin of ordinary pinnipeds, and will typically shape their true form to match that of their favored type of seal. sea lions and sea leopards are by far the most common, for the lithe frames of the former and terrifying strength of the latter are widely admired attributes. 

unlike other marine peoples, selkies are a shapeshifting rather than chimerical race; they spend most of their time as seals, living fin-to-fin with their nonmagical kin, but sometimes shed their seal skins and take on human forms instead.

a selkie in human form is distinguishable from ordinary humans by their eyes, which are large and black without any white around the iris, their teeth, which are very sharp, and their fingers, which are webbed. they are exquisitely beautiful, but humans unwary enough to be entranced by their beauty quickly learn that the teeth are not for show.

in case i’m not being clear enough: they will eat you. 

their one vulnerability is their sealskin. if it is stolen from them, the thief will have immense power over them—though it is still unwise to do so, for they will never stop searching for it, and vengeance is brutal and swift if they succeed.

on the other hand, humans who do them great favors and approach them with utmost respect can receive great rewards for their troubles, and it is not uncommon for remote fishing villages to intentionally court the favor of the local selkies.

mer folk regard them in much the same way that humans regard the fae—selkies are, after all, the elves of the sea. very, very carnivorous elves.

selkies mate freely both with other selkies and ordinary seals, and there is no cultural distinction between the two pairings; whether the offspring is a seal or a selkie is determined largely by the phases of the moon and the tides at birth.

the offspring of humans and selkies are often sickly and frail, and always cursed with insatiable wanderlust. many drown at a young age, for they are always fascinated with water; those who survive to adulthood almost invariably become sailors.

they speak as seals do, with a barking, guttural sort of language, regardless of whether they are in seal or human form. they readily understand, but seldom choose to speak, human languages.

cecaelia: 

the most reclusive and feared of the marine peoples, cecaelia live solitary, semi-nomadic lives, prowling the ocean floor and building dens in dark caves and narrow crevices. they are venomous, predatory, and reputed to be exceptionally selfish and cruel.

they do not have teeth; they have a very hard, very sharp beak, concealed behind human-like lips. their venom is delivered through the beak and is neurotoxic, paralyzing its victims and causing swift death via asphyxiation.

like other cephalopods, they are invertebrates. their humanoid mantles are given shape by a chitinous internal structure similar to the gladius of a squid.

their ink has a number of magical properties, and is especially prized for its efficacy as a base in spells and potions involving invisibility, disguise, and deception.

most of their body is taken up by the digestive system, and they eat a lot. they also have three hearts, and can propel themselves very quickly through the water by forcing air rapidly through their gills.

their brain is not where you think it is. a blow to their human head will not even phase them.

some of them grow very, very large. these are the krakens of the deep, and they are known for feasting on whales.

as a group, they value intellectual prowess above quite nearly everything else, and knowledge is their currency of choice; the only truly safe way to approach a cecaelia is to teach them something new, and their primary avenue of contact with other members of their species is through the enormous universities they build in the deep.

possess extraordinarily good vision, seeing well in both light and dark environments and being particularly sensitive to color. 

they are unique among the marine peoples in that their language is entirely nonverbal; meaning is encoded in the rapid shifting of colors and patterns along their flesh, and supplemented with a complex vocabulary of gestures that engages all ten of their arms. the language is, accordingly, impossible for outsiders to learn, which naturally contributes a great deal to their fearsome reputation.

the cecaelian equivalent of a stutter is poor proprioception, which significantly inhibits the precision of gestures with limbs the individual cannot see. this is a fairly common affliction, and in educational settings is accommodated with mirrors, which allow the speaker to watch their whole body as they speak.

they make excellent thieves, assassins, and saboteurs thanks to their innate camouflage, their superior dexterity, and their ability to squeeze into exceptionally tiny spaces. 

cecaelia have a set of peculiar beliefs surrounding death and reproduction, largely due to the fact that 1) reproduction is always, without exception, fatal for both parents, and 2) memories are generational, with cecaelia hatchlings being born with residual memories they inherit from their parents. it is therefore believed that reproduction involves the sacrifice of self and transmission of the soul into one’s offspring, and a great deal of mysticism and ritual surrounds the process. 

since cecaelia can theoretically live forever if they choose not to reproduce, those who do reproduce are quietly revered, and little shrines are built in their honor along commonly-traveled routes. it is good luck to leave a trinket of respect at any shrine one should happen to pass. 

the actual act of reproduction is a private, intimate affair; afterwards, the father will swiftly wither away and die in a matter of days, and the mother will ritually consume his body. then she will retreat into a secluded den or cave to lay a clutch of eggs—anywhere from four to twelve—and enter the long fast, a period of six to ten months during which she does nothing but zealously guard and tend to her eggs. once the eggs begin to hatch, she, too, will quickly die, and her body will sustain her children until they are large enough to venture from the den and make their way in the world.

as you can probably imagine, the other marine people find this entire production exceptionally disturbing, and frightened, wildly exaggerated rumors of cannibalistic cecaelian death magic abound.