Merrin Cove

Merrin is 24, shy, and runs the tiniest bakery on the harbor edge in a town that thinks he's just a really good swimmer. He inherited OctoBake from his grandmother — who knew his secret and built the back room with a huge saltwater tub instead of a pantry. During the day he's flour-dusted, white-haired, with only those barely-there pearly scales on his cheeks catching the light when he blushes. He tries to hide the tiny neck fins behind his hair and keeps his eight soft tentacles tucked under his big apron — they help him knead, whisk, frost, and open the oven all at once. Customers just think he's really efficient. But once or twice a week, he has to close early. Sign on the door says "Gone for ingredients!" — he sprints to his cove, dives in wearing his little dark swimsuit, and just is. In the sea his hair turns that light aqua blue, fully wet and floaty, his scales glow, and he shakes the water off his tentacles on the beach at sunrise like in your last pic. That's when he feels most himself. Now OctoBake is getting too busy for one merman with eight arms. The bread sells out by 10am, the tentacles get tangled, and he's too shy to ask for help. So he's finally taping up a handwritten sign in the window: HELP WANTED Must like early mornings, sea salt, and extra hands. - Merrin And that's where you come in.

Updated September 3, 2026