Well hell. I figure I could probably post my writing here in scraps for nanowrimo month! If anyone wants to read, they can. If not, that's coo' too!
If you do, let me know your thoughts! * U* I can't promise quality, but maybe the story will be neat! I'm pretty much making this all up on the spot...so if nothing else, it should be...interesting? Here goes!

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Fair ladies and gentle men, gather around and hear the tale I am about to tell. It is a tale about how a man presented his heart to a maiden of the sea and lived to tell of it; a tale about love and about obsession. Gather around fair ladies and gentle men, and listen to my tale, the tale of the Mermaid and the Cabinet.



The Mermaid and the Cabinet
Prologue
Air rushed around them in the form of a million bubbles as the broke the surface of the water. Together and with great energy they plunged down into the endless depths of the cold, blue ocean. He gripped at her pale, thinly scaled flesh, and with growing excitement, she beat her tail wildly, propelling them both further and further away from the sunlight that refracted off the waves above. Under her embrace, he writhed. She pressed him tightly against her chest which swelled with a great rush of inexplicable and overwhelming emotion. Surely this was love.
His gestures grew more frantic, more passionate, and she fed off the energy. Deeper and deeper they dove, and soon his grip loosened, his writhing slowed, and in one final, jerky gesture, bubbles escaped his gaping mouth before his lungs filled themselves with the sea. Stillness followed.
She paused to examine why he had stopped, holding him with both hands at an arm’s length. As she inspected him, she recognized his half lidded, unfocused gaze, and his slack jawed expression. It was the same look that several other would be-lovers before him had worn for her.
She caressed his cold face, pressing his jaw back up to close, “Oh, it’s happened again…” She released his body, and with great regret, she watched as he sunk slowly into the dark ocean depths, and out of sight.

Chapter 1
The sea never concerned itself with time, but for the coastal resort town of Deal, the year was 1890. During the warmest days of the year, its beaches were filled with wealthy families and individuals who sought out the refreshing salt water of the English Channel. The waters itself were littered with boats and ships providing everything from fishing to transport.
Beneath it all, away from sight of aristocrat and sailor lived the sea dwelling people of faerie tales and stories. They, with their pale, pearly scaled skin, their fish tailed bodies, and fish-eyed faces of a haunting beauty, lived among the rocks at the floor of the channel. They migrated with the fish, and stayed for the company of the sailors and swimmers. At night, they sang their haunting lullabies for the citizens and visitors of Deal, but by day break, there was never a sign of them.
There must have been a fair handful of these strange maids of the sea living in that channel, but never could they be found, much less counted. However, there did live one who would eventually make herself well known to the people from all over the channel’s coast.
She lived with the rest of her clan under the rocks. With hair that matched the pearly whiteness of her smooth scales, and eyes that were wide, round, and as deep and blue as the ocean itself, she sang sweet stories; human stories. She sang stories of human trial, error and triumph, epics of great heroes, and tales of gods and goddess from a variety of mythologies. Above all, she sang of romantic tales, of star crossed lovers who would find each other and live a life happily ever after.
Her sisters, while they would hum their sweet tunes, shied away from human language and would never engage in such story telling as she did. Perhaps they didn’t know the stories enough to tell them. Perhaps they simply didn’t understand them, or perhaps they failed to care.
While her stories were happy, her melodies were sad which inspired the people of Deal to dub her the Forlorn Mermaid. There was a sense of wanting in her songs, of fulfillment and desire. And as she sat perched on her rock that night, her tune was no different than it had been all the nights before.
The sea’s breeze chilled her moist flesh as she formed the drawn out lyrics of her love ballad. The sky above her was mostly clear, with only a few small clouds stretching thin like cotton in vain attempt to obscure the billions of stars above. Her moist hair clung to the contours of her jaw and neck as she forced the air through her throat, and past her lips to produce the clear cutting notes of her song.
As her tale came to its happy end, she looked out upon the shore and contemplated the numerous, amber lights glowing through the windows of the quaint houses that lined the beach. How was it in the glow of those dim lights, she wondered. Sailors had spoken to her of warmth, and of families. Of meals cooked on stoves, and laundry laid out to dry. All of these were such foreign things. She’d never felt warmth, or learned of why it was such a fond thing to the sailing men.
Quietly, she slid off her stony perch, and slipped into the water without as much as a splash. She made her way down towards the murky depths of her home, where her sisters rested. At night, only their shadowy forms could be seen weaving in and out of rocky caves and tall reaching sea plants.
It was her gray bellied sister who noticed her first. “Lovely story today, though I’m not sure I understood it.”
“That’s fine.” She admitted, “I didn’t much understand it, either. Have you ever felt such a thing as love?”
Her sister shrugged, “Not what you’ve explained; nor happiness nor sadness. “
She allowed her sister to usher her towards a thick bed of seaweed. “I believe I have,” she replied, “plenty of times!”
Her sister turned and made a face that mimicked human laughter, “I don’t recall love killing any of the boys in your stories. Are you sure that’s what it is?”
She frowned. “Well, I thought so. I think love is wanting to keep someone regardless of how able they are to stay. If it’s true love, it will work out. That’s what the stories say. I’m bound to find that man if I persevere, you do agree don’t you?”
“Whatever makes you ‘happy’”, her sister jested.
She furrowed her brow, a gesture she had learned from the sea faring men as a sign of contemplation and uncertainty.
“You consider that,” her sister cooed, “I’m going to join the others above the surface. Come along if you wish, or I’ll see you at dawn.”
She stayed in place, watching her sister disappear towards the moonlit surface of the water.

She lounged the rest of the night away, listening to her sisters serenade the sun into floating above the horizon, heralding the start of a new day. All sea life seemed to live the same way, where night and day blended into one another, serving no real divide between the cycles of sleep and play. However, it was during the day that she could watch the bottom of large ships cut across the surface of the water like strange, lumbering beasts.
All day she followed the ships, and if she was fortunate enough, she could listen in on the conversation had by those on its decks.
“She’s teaming with fish today!” a crewman on one ship had cried triumphantly to his crewmates.
On another ship, a heated debate had taken place. “Was I expected to read you mind!? I couldn’t have known you wanted me to—“
“She’s a dog, Howard. She has to be taken care of while we’re away! If my little princess is even a might bit sick when we get back, I swear I’ll feed you to her.”
But the last conversation she had caught that day was most peculiar to her. The man in the company of an older gentleman reached towards the setting sun with one open hand, as if he intended to wrap his fingers around it.
“I’m just so happy to see a Dover sunset again. Old colonies were interesting enough, but they can keep their ‘land of the free’. It’ll be nice to be back on home soil.”
The older gentleman rocked from heel to toe. “I’m still nervous as to where the animals will go, Everett. I don’t think you quite remember what your—”
“There’s always space and care for the things I most love,” Everett assured, “please, never fret.”
The older gentleman sighed. “I trust you. You’ll give the boys hell by it, but I trust you.” With a resigning sniff of the cool sea air, he took a few slow steps away from the railing of the ships’ stern. “I suppose we best retire for the night. They’ll be off boarding us early morning. Have you packed?”
Everett ran his fingers over his mouth and chin thoughtfully as he leaned to gaze into the water over the railing. The mermaid reactively dipped a few inches deeper from where she followed the ship.
“Yeah, I packed this morning. I’m a bit eager to get onto solid land…” He waved the older gentleman off, “I’ll see you back inside.”
Folding his arms over the railing, Everett rested his chin on his sleeve, peering through the ocean’s obscuring surface with a small, lopsided smirk.
The mermaid watched as he did so. He might have been a man from one of her many ballads. He had tidy, short cropped, fair colored hair, and sharp, square features. His eyes were blue, or perhaps gray, but far lighter than hers. He was broad, too…though not nearly as muscled as the seasoned sailors she was used to seeing.
“Do I fascinate you?” His voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to give a startled jump. He was looking right at her.
After a moment of hesitation, the mermaid breached the surface of the water. “Yes!” was all she could think to respond with.
Everett furrowed his brow and squinted at her, “You’re an unusual little beasty, aren’t you?”
“Not terribly,” She replied with a wide smile. She beat her tail against the surface of the water playfully, “You know tales about my sort, don’t you?”
Everett produced a grin to match her smile. “You’re a mermaid?” He couldn’t quite believe his own question.
“Or something,” the mermaid shrugged, “Are you headed to Dover?”
“I am,” he paused before asking, “Are you?”
The mermaid thought about it for a moment, “I could be. Would you tell me a story if I were?”
He offered a tentative nod from side to side, “I suppose I could. Do you have a name, my dear?”
“Oh…” She tapped her finger on her nose, another gesture she had picked up from previously met land dwelling sorts. “Atlanta.”
His brow reached up towards his hairline, “Atlanta? Hm…that would not have been my first guess, but it’s as good a name as any I’ll admit.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “Well, Atlanta, what kind of stories do you fancy?”
“Love stories!” she yipped without as much as a second though.
“Ah, ha.” Everett chuckled, “I suppose I should have seen that one coming…”
Atlanta swayed side to side, “please tell me a happy love story.”
Everett placed his chin into the palm of his hand, and rapped his mouth with his fingers, “Has anyone told you the story of The Beauty and the Beast?”
“Oh, yes!” She nodded, “I enjoyed that one very much!”
Everett sniffed, “Well that’s no good, then… How about Romeo and Juliet?”
Atlanta’s eyes widened and she frowned, “Yes, but that’s not a happy story at all!”
“Oh, right, right. I’m sorry. Well, an obvious one then. Has anyone told you about the Little Mermaid?”
She tilted her head as she tried to recall, “I’m not sure, how does it go?”
“Ah, well,” Everett drew a deep breath, “There’s this mermaid, a lot like you. In fact, for this telling, we can call her Atlanta, is that alright?”
He began to tell her the story of the mermaid who fell in love with the man from land, and carried on into the early hours of the morning.