I imagine mermaids with no eyes. Where they lie deep beneath the ocean, far far down where no one can see, they live in darkness. They echolocate to navigate, and sculpture is a praised art form in their realm. If one were to bring their kingdom to the surface for all to see, it would be magnificent. Tall spires would pierce the sky, with near-perfect renditions of the aquatic rulers decorating the pillars and weaving a story through the stone. Sirens are different. They grow to the size of whales, and develop their eyes on their hands to act as a scope to see above water. Poking one’s head out, especially when that large, would startle their prey. So they use their hands to see, to locate, to hunt. And when they sing it is trapped in a bubble that floats to the surface and waits for some poor soul to come along and pop it, like a spider of the sea. They set traps throughout the ocean, coming back to feast on meals of drowned sailors and other vermin. It is well known that if a seafarer were to go overboard, they would not receive help if they do not surface. No one would dare touch a bubble in these waters.
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