I don't care what they're going to say, let the storm rage on the cold never bothered me anyway
The air was cool, not cold enough to be at a level that would have Bel feeling at home, but definitely comfortable nonetheless. The vapors swirling up from her spine hung over her, delicately trailing in spirals as the colder temperature kept them at the right distance to naturally keep the air around her a little colder, a little more comfortable for the arctic zone native. The extra heat from the various fires from the autumn festival were less comfortable for her, however. It's what led Bel to staying a bit further away from the dancers with flaming sticks. She'd been offered one when she first arrived, but had been forced to shake her head, instead wanting to just watch. That close to fire, even a small one, would be a little risky for a creature of the water. And that was if her own vapors didn't extinguish the flame early.
No, Bel was happy watching.
Her gaze followed the dancers as they stepped on land with a variety of grace. Some mirrored her own steady steps on land. Others moved with a grace that made her slightly jealous. How anyone could move that smoothly, on land, she would never know. But then again, in the water, Bel was poetry in motion beneath the waves where her fins and tail worked in strong correlation when her limbs and carried her through the currents like she was born to be there. Though, according to Yuki, it was possible to relearn how to move like that on land, Bel just wasn't there yet.
It wasn't worth a worry yet, anyway.
Now was a time for festivities! And there was definitely a feel of fun in the air. Laughter and groupings of others helping and talking together. Small and large groups. Loners watching from the distances, but still smiling and relaxed. As with any festival in Bel's experience while on Novus, it seemed a time of comfort and companionship. Laughter and smiles. Friendships made or strengthened. A time of celebration another year drawing to a close and making sure there were others to lean on for winter when it would be colder and darker.
And so much fun was planned.
Fireworks, feasts, apple pie baking and so much more. Even this fire dancing was having a smile touch Bel's slightly reptilian features as she leaned against a tree, her fins standing out against the greenery around her. White and blue might lend her to camouflage in the water but she was clearly visible on land. Which is why she let others approach first. She tended to be seen as a predator first. A Kelpie she'd been accused of, never mind the fact she was dual-natured. Fins and tail. But also limbs and hooves. Scales and blubber, but also fur and hide. Gills but lungs. A carefully cultivated creature who could survive on land, or in the water. But then again, she wasn't from this world. She was an alien playing native. She might have fangs, but they were for tuna and cod, not for other horses. And she ate seagrasses and seaweed just as much as fish or plankton.
But fear clouds visions.
And she'd rather others approach her first, least she alarms them instead of making a friend out of them. Thankfully some now knew her for what she was. Friendly, playful, kind . . . They saw the Bel beyond the fins. Saw the whole Treader, not just aquatic aspects. And with any luck, she might be able to make some friends along the way at the festival. And if nothing else, she could still have fun watching the others to.
"Bel" Yukime
Open to anyone Notes:: Just fun festivities for anyone who wants to hangout;) Bel will NOT be participating at this time in fire dancing LOL and of course Yuki noped out of being around in fire :P
pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
The coming of autumn was like a beautiful, rosy-hued, double edged sword. On the one side, relief from the constant humidity that had been pressing down on Novus like a weighted blanket for the last three months allowed everyone to finally breathe again; on the other, Atlas now woke from his bed of moonflowers with a shiver to his skin. Surely in time the leaves would don their fall coats and fill the air a beautiful rainbow of reds, oranges, pinks, golds, and purples… but for now, everything seemed to be stuck in a bit of limbo, where it was cold in the morning, warm at noon, and cold again when the moon rose.
Atlas was a warm-weather creature at his heart, though he had weathered more than his fair-share of open-skied, freezing desert nights, so while seeing his breath on the air was mildly foreboding, it did little more than instill in him a reminder that he needed to find somewhere else to sleep. Preferably indoors.
Of course, the changing of the seasons brought forth another reason for celebration: there was to be a festival! These people in Novus (he’d been here almost four years, did he not think of himself as such? Not yet?) had a festival for everything! In Zukai it had seemed the upper class lived an endless party, so such celebrations were lacking luster. But in Novus, especially after a season full of such strife and change, the autumnal festival was a welcome break from the mundane.
And what a festival it was! Fire dancing, pie baking, fireworks, and feasting, truly a highlight to bring a smile to all faces. Atlas found himself fascinated with the work of the fire-dancers as they twirled and spun, their double-sided flaming torches splitting and spinning in the air faster than the eye could see. They danced and twirled around each other, moving as if one creature, the fire wreathing out from them in an explosion of color as though heralding the oncoming change of the season.
As he makes his way through the congregations of revelers as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the fire dancers, dug their teeth into pies and treats, tossed back pints of cider and fall-spiced ales, and just generally had an old fashioned good time, he found out of the corner of his eye a curious figure, standing some ways away; they were a stark white cut against the soft dark of the night.
Directed by his own intrigue, Atlas broke away from the main throng, coming up alongside the watching stranger, a smile on his face. “Not going to partake?” he questioned, his tone full of mirth and cheer; he watched the clouds of fog roll off her white, smooth skin, but held his tongue, lest he border on impropriety. “I hear if you don’t you’ll have bad luck all winter. Or perhaps it’s if you start and don’t finish.” He grinned. “Luck can be fickle like that.”
I don't care what they're going to say, let the storm rage on the cold never bothered me anyway
The air was truly alive with jubilant emotions that was visible in the excitement everyone held, audible in the joyful greetings and laughter filled with warmth. Bel had always liked festivals for this reason - for the excitement and warmth, and the equal footing many of the different courts could share in. But Fall was always a favorite - the turning of the seasons, the changing of colors. Days growing cooler, but still maintaining some heat in the day. Nights were brisk with fresh cold air that chilled the northern bred mare in a way that made Novus more comfortable.
This festival, this season was no different.
It was better even, as she had so much to be thankful this year. A growing closeness with her sister, a best friend who was becoming like a protective brother. Yukime who was connecting her to her old, and forgotten history. Her close friends, and her sister who made her days bright and filled with joy. And the new friends she was making along the way. Jane of Day, Luvena of Night. Many more she hoped to add in the coming year as well, perhaps even some to make during this festival - as it was a time of joy.
Bel was happy to just watch for now.
The others were laughing and twirling, spinning with fire that split the sky, twirling and dancing in an array of movements that seemed choreographed by the gods. Together, they moved, with color arching across the sky. Bel ooh-ed and aah-ed with the others, even as she stood a little further away from the flames that could ruin her night if she wasn't careful. Still she was there to watch, to share in the splendid, even if it was one event she might not be able to partake in. The intrusion was both a surprise, and a welcome, as she greeted the other with a slight dip of her head, her fins flattening slightly along her back as she laughed at his question, "Fire and I have a rather troublesome relationship. I like the way it looks, it likes to see me dehyrdated." She explained, her gaze returning to the dancers as the moved.
The mention of bad luck had her laughing.
"I'd be far more likely to have bad luck for attempting to participate. Even if it's from the water vapors dowsing the flames of mine, and anyone else's torches. I'd rather not go down as the individual who brings bad luck to all of Terrastella." Bel shook her head, laughing at the very idea, "Far safer to sit back and watch it. Besides, you find more company by being in the audience, than being a dancer." She added, turning more fully to the other who smelled of Dusk, thus must be part of her own Court, "I don't believe we've met, or likely not properly. My name is Below Zero, but most call me Bel." She introduced herself with a warm smile, before her gaze returned to the dancers. "So, why aren't you joining the dancers? If bad luck could be an outcome for not participating?" She added with a teasing tone, even as she ooh-ed along with everyone else to an individual's fancy twirling moves.
pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
Terrastellans could truly throw a party, especially for such a closeted and closed off people. There was a warmth in the air that was more than the ambient heat stolen from the sun and radiated up from the sand; there were more sparks in the night than those flying off of the fire-dancers torches. It was a unity of people, hearts, and minds, clashing together and igniting, an energy generated and flashing up from truly happy people. It was something Atlas had not seen in a long time, and a balmy peace settled like a well-earned sweat within his body.
Or maybe that was just his proximity to the pyrolatry.
It was something held in many hands, like a multiplicitous sprouting fruit. It was a celebration of a turning of an age; welcoming Elena, bidding goodbye to the chaos and sadness of prior seasons; it was a dance of summer; in its finality, it was a last bastion of sanity and strength-gathering before the cold grip of winter’s glacial palm.
The stranger seemed welcoming of his intrusion, and so Atlas settled into a comfortable stance beside them. They were a curiosity, to be sure, and he was, at his heart, a scholar; but he had never been the intense, dissecting type, and so he was more than receptive to just let the mystery live. The world was vast and big and beautiful, and full of curiosities still.
He mulled over their words, nodding slightly. “Yes, I suppose fire can be fickle like that, too.” He listened to them speak of their wish to not bring misfortune to all of Terrastella and chuckled. “Stories have been spun from less, I’m sure. That would be quite the lasting legacy.”
In the limited space, he gave a half bow in response to her introduction, golden hair falling across his face. “Well met, Bel. My name is Atlas, and I fear my reasons for abstaining are far more selfish.” He winked. “I am not quite so noble as you, me and my simple mind. I fear getting burnt. I don’t much like the thought of it, as fun as playing with fire sounds.”
Not sustaining multiple degree burns for a party trick sounded much to him like making his own luck.
I don't care what they're going to say, let the storm rage on the cold never bothered me anyway
The mare was grateful for company - particularly one that didn't seem hostile or cautious with her [a fairly common occurrence for those who didn't know her and wrongly assumed her semi-aquatic state made her a type of kelpie]. She tilted her head as she watched him shift into a comfortable stance, sharing space, but she could also see the curiosity in his eyes, though respectful. She smiled faintly, "You look curious about something, I'm assuming it's me, as everything around us is fairly normal. Feel free to ask any questions, I'm a fairly open book and aware that there aren't many of my species on this planet. I promise I'm not a sort of Kelpie though. I prefer fish to horse." She asured with a warm laugh - beyond used to the curiosity - hadn't she just gone through this with that little sweetheart, Jane?
The mare tilted her head when he spoke of fire being fickle, laughing warmly, "Oh, I'll have to take your word for it, I don't have much experience with fire outside of festivals, it's hard to burn a flame below water's edge. It's like trying to corral plankton, not going to work and leave you exhausted from trying." She admitted with a smile, before her smile turned into a wide grin, her laugh this time more full, unfiltered, "Not quite the legacy I would want though!" She denied, shaking her head, both sets of eyes closing as she fought to control her laugh, "I can just imagine the reactions! Oh yes, I'll stay right here instead. I'll let the others dance with the flames. I'm quite happier to be on the outside of it all, and just part of the crowd."
His half bow had her smiling in slight amusement, surprised he managed that it the tight space, "Pleasure to meet you as well, Atlas." He spoke again, admitting a fear of being burnt and she smiled gently, "A notable worry, fire does tend to have a shark's bite when you least expect it. I can't necessarily blame you for being worried for it." She agreed with a nod before her ears perked faintly, the finned edges flaring slightly, "At least it is still fun to watch the others put their fins on the line . . . er, fur on the line."
pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
Atlas had never met a Kelpie, though, like any good, land-bound person, he’d heard their horror stories. For some, they raised goosebumps and sent chills down spines; for him, they were a momentary fascination, nothing more. Atlas did not believe in horror stories and premonitions, especially not racially charged ones based in biased myth. He did not need fantastical tales of sharp-fanged, predatory beasts to scare his heart to rapid beats and make him feel alive-- no, Atlas had seen scary, lived it, and felt certain most Kelpies did not possess the same power of cultivating terror simply in their being. What land-bound creature does not automatically feel uneased in the water? Take a way the strength of a creature’s mobility and instinct will kick in. No person is as good a swimmer as they are a walker, a runner.
Well, present company excepted, of course.
Still, Bel’s summations hit the nail on the head; was he such an easy creature to read? Nashira would have scolded him. He made a mental note to practice controlling his expression and dipped his chin in excusation. “I apologize if I seem intrusive. I assure you I am like this all the time. With everyone.” He winced. It was a terrible way to try and explain he was curious about most everything.
Her point of divulging she was not a Kelpie earned him a blink. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” he said, earnest. Most of it was a genuine inability to judge books by their proverbial covers, but somewhere, deep down, there was a lack of concern at his own mortality. If a secret Kelpie wanted to help themselves to his blood and flesh and divest him of his life, he wouldn’t mind, really. They had to eat too, right?
“We had celebrations like this back in my homeland,” he said, allowing himself to reminisce on some of the things that were not horrible about Zukai. “It seemed a poor pageantry there, swirling fire in the middle of a desert. Find me someone who can dance with ice, then I’d be impressed.” But that was there and not here. “We had our own version of Kelpies as well, but they were much more like me than you.” Great, blind beasts covered in rock-like skin and large sand-sails that dug through the desert like ravenous moles, following the feeling of footsteps against the earth to their next meal.
He’d learned early in his traveling days to steer clear of their oceans.
I don't care what they're going to say, let the storm rage on the cold never bothered me anyway
Bel had to laugh, the sound gentle - non-judgemental - at the other's apology, shaking her head, "No apology is necessary, I certainly take no offense. Besides, I'm of the curious nature myself, though it's usually about locations I haven't seen rather than people I haven't met." She assured with a grin, before the smile faltere with surprise, a little shock entering her expression when he admitted that even if she was a Kelpie he wouldn't be bothered.
She tilted her head, curious about that fact.
"Most would definitely find a bother about running into a Kelpie, they tend to be rather carniverous creatures, after all." Why would he not be? Was it a lack of his own self-preservation, or perhaps an acceptance of his own mortality, that anyone could die at any moment? Perhaps there was something to ponder on the way others thought. She glanced back towards the fires, the dancers, the celebrations, even as one finned ear flipped towards the stallion, smiling faintly.
Her people had little to celebrate, beyond birth.
"My pod were perhaps more simple. We celebrated a birth, but we rarely celebrated anything else. But it was a starker world we lived in, where we were regularly hunted as weaker beings. Being in Novus with such celebrations done up in grand design is nice, welcoming even." She admitted after a moment, before glancing back to him when he commented on his homeland being less fancy, though his follow up of dancing with ice had her grinning, "Dancing with ice is simple," As she said so, her own vapors dropped to a much lower temperature, as if the very talk of ice was enough to remind her she was a made for an arctic climate, "My bonded can dance very well with the ice shards, though I blame that on her ability to utilize ice as a weapon, being a sea serpent with an affinity for ice, after all. I myself come from the arctic where ice is far more plentiful than fire."
It was what always made her excited for winter.
When he spoke of sand kelpies, her eyes were wide with wonder at the idea of great beasts covered in rock-like skin and large sand-sails, digging through the desert. "My bonded speaks of terrifying monsters from the planet her species, and my own originate from. Giant serpents, large as mountains that slither through the ice and erupt out of it to swallow a creature whole. Giant Leviathans of the ocean with ravenous appetites." She stated, before smiling slightly, "I suppose every place has predators of one sort or the next, so is the way of the world, is it not?"
pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
She didn’t seem too insulted despite himself and his unquenchable curiosity which frequently bordered on invasive. Expressing an interest in distant lands, Atlas felt he had to agree. He was, of course, a nomad by heart, and even now had plans to head deeper into Novus following the conclusion of the festival. He’d not been to Denocte yet; it was next on his list. “It is refreshing to meet someone of a like mind,” he confessed in earnest. While he had not encountered many distinctly closed-minded people in Novus, more than most had been happy homebodies who had taken, if not insult, then a sharp discomfort in his interests.
She turned her head and seemed confused at his confession, which must seem foolhardy or courageous to her, and most others; Atlas simply shrugged and swallowed a laugh, not wanting it to seem mocking. “Far be it for me to seem suicidal, but I’m certain there are kelpies in the world who are capable of, say, barking before biting.” He did laugh, then, but clearly at his own self. “And even if they did bite, I’m sure they would find me less than palatable. Too bony.”
The smile fell from his face as he listened intently to her explain the workings of her pod and her past life; the night took on an almost imperceptible chill. He swallowed, trying to imagine how existence had been for Bel and, instead, found himself thinking of his own horrible past. Where we were regularly hunted as weaker beings. A line of captives snatched from the desert, sunburnt and windswept, stained, befouled, and bloodied; led in chains to the Meatkeeper’s pens to be divided up by strength and value and sold to the highest bidder.
He swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nauseated. “Grandeur does not always indicate greatness. Sometimes it is a fake luster.” His voice came out whisper-low and gravelly.
A sea serpent. Atlas swung his head towards her, melancholy shattered like the ice they were so speaking of, and blinked, honeyed eyes swelling with confusion. “Come again?” he requested, unable to contain his interest. He found a strange humor in it. “You talk of fearing kelpies and your bonded is a sea serpent.”
Her stories of giant ice leviathans danced with his own memories of rek’sai, the Zukai name for the sand hunters. He nodded his agreement. “‘All the world will be your enemy,’” he quoted, finding his smile again, “so what is the point of living in constant fear?”
Certainly an easy proclamation when they were surrounded by such jovial celebrations, and a sense of warm kinship.
I don't care what they're going to say, let the storm rage on the cold never bothered me anyway
The aquatic mare smiled, nodding her head in agreement to his words, "Oh, absolutely! So many of these lands seem to be happy with their place in life. But thee's so much to be seen, I can't seem to get enough of everything there is in Novus, or better, the things that haven't ever been seen before. I would love to find something first." She admitted, with a soft laugh, shaking her head as the vapors wafted around her spine, "If I may ask, what's your favorite thing you've seen, or been to, in Novus so far? I'd love suggestions on what to see next!" She added with a warm smile.
She wasn't expecting his dismissal of Kelpies though.
It was a relief to not be immediately assumed to be one and branded a violent killer, however. Avoided or cursed at. Or worse, trying to trick to kill to 'rid the land of the Kelpie.' Sure, she had fangs in her mouth, but hers were for salmon, tuna, and other fish. Definitely not a horse. She was curious about his reasoning, however, her head tilting to the side, both sets of eyes focusing on the male when he admitted to believing there are Kelpies capable of barking before biting. His laugh and declaration that he'd be too bony for a Kelpie had her laughing with him, "I suppose that is a good way to look at it. I've not met too many in my travels, but just like there are horses capable of great evil, there must be Kelpies capable of great kindness, right?"
It made sense, and it was a nice thought.
Of course, admitting where she came from was never easy. It was troublesome, even if she didn't go into detail. But he seemed to understand to a degree, perhaps having a troublesome history of his own. She wouldn't question him on it, it appeared to be a history he didn't want to touch on, and she could respect that. His words were low when he spoke, gravelly even in a whisper. She nodded faintly, "Even the greatest of cities become shambles beneath the waves. And not even the storm can wipe away all of the secrets." She agreed. Thankfully the talk of Yuki proved a distraction.
His head swung towards her, his expression confused.
His words explained it, however, and she couldn't help but to laugh, "Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't fear the Kelpies much. I'm a creature of the waters after all. And like my bonded, I have my own weight to hold. But don't imagine a mammoth beast, Yukime is small enough that she tends to ride on my back. Long, but definitely not gigantic." She paused before her smile turned into a conspiratory grin, "Though, if you ask me, her sour attitude more than makes up for the lackluster of her size." She stated with amusement, something that was very true of the often grumpy serpent.
She was greatly enjoying the company, though.
She smiled slightly when he spoke, nodding in agreement, "Live your life in fear, and you forget to live." She agreed, her eyes dancing with merriment, "Though, according to the Pod when I was growing up, I had an unhealthy lack of fear . . . apparently most pups don't play steal the treasure from Krakens." Although, it wasn't really her fault that she didn't know the cave was the den of the Kraken. "And there is more than enough excitement to find in the world when you're looking for things that make you happy, rather than things to make you afraid."
pink bleeds gold / and red spills into one's heart
A keen barb of something close to regret struck his heart, and his golden eyes rolled skyward for a blink-- not in a signature of mocking, but a longing, wistful gaze; the thought of what it would be like to be happy, or simply content, with where he was in life. An unattainable goal, surely, fueled by the ghosts in his wake and the comfort of his long, lonely nights abroad. How much of his thirst for discovery was rooted in discomfit? Presently, Atlas attributed his nomadic ways to some misplaced form of repentance, his refusal to settle his chosen form of torture. A whip that scarred and soothed, it both gentled the sea of his guilt and sated his lust for peregrination.
He pretended his hesitation was deep thought on the answer to her question. The campfire smoke was heavy in the air and settled warmly into his lungs. “I have seen the great Library of Delumine, guided through it by a winged warrior of the court,” he said, unable to keep the tenderness from his voice when he thought of Mephisto. “I have also seen a great field of white moonflowers, stretching far as the eye can see, their silvery pollen like stars fallen in the night sky.”
Her summation on his feelings on the bad and better natures of their kith and kin made him smile. “Simply put, anyone is capable of anything, any level of cruelty or kindness. Better to know first and judge later. You'll make more friends that way." He winked.
Below Zero spoke of waves and Atlas saw sand, ever-shifting dunes swallowing what was presented to them: footsteps, ruins, bones. A terrain so fit for natural graves it fought against man-made ones. There was a rawness in him that came from the desert, a rawness and a burning that would never go away.
In truth, his vision of Bel’s fantastical companion was something out of a bestiary of old, most likely inaccurate and sketched from the tales of rum-drunk, land-starved sailors: deep-sea monstrosities longer than a multi-masted schooner, with horrific teeth, dead eyes, and gaping jaws; krakens with tentacles wider around than a horse and with the intelligence to match any captain; bi-pedal crab-monsters with unpierceable armor and bottomless appetites.
After she described the serpent as, simply put, a long snake, he found himself chuckling at his own foolishness-- or imagination. Or were the two forever entwined? His laughter had his sides shaking. “Goodness. Forgive me.” It was not often he amused himself so. He ducked his head, trying to get himself under control.
![[Image: i-jTNwWx8.png]](https://photos.smugmug.com/BelowZeroNovus/n-X9d9fZ/i-jTNwWx8/1/e09fb6c3/O/i-jTNwWx8.png)
