





Name;; Siren
Age;; about 16
Gender;; Female
Orientation;; Pansexual, basically flirts with anything
Birthday;; 12th December
Star sign;; Sagittarius
Gemstone;; Garnet
Zodiac element;; Fire
Most common greeting;; Yo
Languages;; French, English, Latin and Irish
Place of origin;; Ireland
Lives in;; Mostly Thailand, but can be found in Ireland or France
Occupation;; Annoying others Surfing, she doesn't have a job yet so she earns money out of surfing competitions but then ends up spending it all on travelling, so she's fairly broke.
Best talent;; Singing. She is a siren, after all.


As was stated, Siren is able to use a tiny bit of water magic. She likes to show off with her magic, but it leaves her tired for quite a while. She can often be seen drinking coffee, to keep her awake. She once said ;; I swear that if coffee didn't exist, I'd be asleep for a month. Because she drinks so much coffee, she often gets withdrawal from it and gets all shakey and cold. Also, her heart beats faster from all of the caffine in the coffee.

Siren's vision is a bit fishy. Above water, she sees like you would underwater, very blurry. However, when she gets underwater, her eyesight is pin-sharp. This means she has to wear very strong glasses, to make sure she doesnt bump into things. Her glasses are a dark navy blue with baby blue star shapes running down the bit that goes over her ears. Her eyes are also two-toned. The blue represents her past life and the green shows her life as of now. She is able to control how much blue or green shows, but when she sings her eyes go a wierd grey-ish color; the same as her magic.


My father always told me never to go to the heights. The heights were a wall of rock, facing the sea, and legend had it that sirens would lull the sailors and surfers into their world of misery and death. Being me, I never believed him. I was just a normal plumie, young and boisterous. One day, my father let me sail alone, as he was getting too old to do all of the movement. It didn’t feel right at first, sailing alone but I began to like it with the wind in my fur and the glittering salty spray from the sea. I fished for him, always getting a great haul of fish that we would stock up on for the winter. One of the greatest sounds I heard while sailing was the singing of the sirens, which I got my name from, but if it got to a certain volume I would turn back immediately and travel to shore. But as we all know, every living thing has a set amount of days to live and the inevitable will happen, my father died in his sleep just as winter began to reach its frosty tentacles out. I mourned and grieved for a long time, trying to re-create the siren’s songs to calm myself but failed horribly, creating an animal-like howl. I decided to finally go out, after months of isolation, and sail to get the last fish that hung around. I was out of practice, as I had not sailed for months and veered too close to the heights. I immediately realized my mistake, but was pulled in by the melodic singing of the sirens. Suddenly, I felt something wrap around my tail, pulling me down into the depths. I was going deeper and deeper, more wraps pulling me down until I had no air left. The last thing I heard was: “We’re going to make you beautiful like us.” Waking up, with a groggy head, I realized I was with underwater and panicked. I quickly calmed down as I noticed I was breathing out of gills on my neck. I saw other sirens gathered round, looking at me, almost judging me. I knew what I had to do now, as a siren. Sing. I sang a melody that my father told me when I was younger. I was almost 100 percent sure it would come out horrible and scratchy, but no. The sound was as calming and beautiful as a dove. I heard gasps and saw the others go wide-eyed. Seeing that, I made a choked sound as I started to tear up, proud of myself. Along with the “curse” of being a siren, I had a limited amount of magic I could use to enchant my singing. I prefer to stay underwater with the sirens, but I do visit my real friends above water and surf with them. I use my singing for good, apart from when I get angry, then I start to sing the death melody, as its a natural thing for us sirens.