Introduction
Yeah, I'm doing another one. Couldn't resist! This one has influences from PoTC:Stranger Tides and Song of Ice and Fire. I love the mermaids of PoTC and since Des'tai was always referred to as one, I decided to make a little family group based off the movie. Song of Ice and Fire(Or Game of Thrones, if you'd rather) comes into it because Des'tai is lifemated to Llyr, the Drowned God.
Until I figure out a way to organize this, here's the jest: Llyr considers himself a God and requires a following to do his bidding. They have an open relationship so both are free to breed with whomever they want to further their own plots. Des'tai is happy enough, but she wanted a cult of her own. A group she could watch over like a mother creator. In the movie mermaids are all female, thus this idea is born. If a non-relative to Des'tai were to join it would defeat the purpose of her calling herself their founder and Goddess. She will likely be one of the leaders, along with a daughter. The family group is also meant to help Llyr. Drowning is a common occupation. They believe that the spirit of everyone they drown travels down to the ruins and remains there. For what purpose, I haven't decided yet. The ruins are more of a hall of the dead than somewhere they live.
Quote:
Movie Scene
Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray,
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay,
Conversing with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain,
Saying, William, when you go, I fear you will ne'er return again.
His hair hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as soles,
My happiness attend him wherever he goes,
From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan,
All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return.
My father is a merchant — the truth I will now tell,
And in great London City in opulence doth dwell,
His fortune doth exceed 300,000 gold,
And he frowns upon his daughter, 'cause she loves a sailor bold.
A fig for his riches, his merchandise, and gold,
True love has grafted my heart; give me my sailor bold:
Should he return in poverty, from o'er the ocean far,
To my tender bosom, I'll fondly press my jolly tar.
My sailor is a smiling as the pleasant month of May,
And oft we have wandered through Ratcliffe Highway,
Where many a pretty blooming girl we did behold,
Reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold.
My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair,
And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year,
Come all ye pretty fair maids, whoever ye may be
Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea,
While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn,
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he home will safe return.
My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.
Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray,
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay,
Conversing with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain,
Saying, William, when you go, I fear you will ne'er return again.
His hair hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as soles,
My happiness attend him wherever he goes,
From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan,
All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return.
My father is a merchant — the truth I will now tell,
And in great London City in opulence doth dwell,
His fortune doth exceed 300,000 gold,
And he frowns upon his daughter, 'cause she loves a sailor bold.
A fig for his riches, his merchandise, and gold,
True love has grafted my heart; give me my sailor bold:
Should he return in poverty, from o'er the ocean far,
To my tender bosom, I'll fondly press my jolly tar.
My sailor is a smiling as the pleasant month of May,
And oft we have wandered through Ratcliffe Highway,
Where many a pretty blooming girl we did behold,
Reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold.
My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair,
And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year,
Come all ye pretty fair maids, whoever ye may be
Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea,
While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn,
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he home will safe return.
My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.
