Would've Wished in 92

**Belle Riptide** Sun Jan 06, 2013 12:18 am

((I swear I picked a theme song for Belle and Flynn XD ())

The tide was coming in. Belle was sitting on the beach, letting the water tickle her bare toes. Considering she was in human society, she decided to wear the only bathing suit she tolerated; denim shorts - real denim shorts as the fake denim faded quickly - and a turquoise bandeaux top. She breathed, enjoying the sense of her old home wash up to her. Her hair was loose, being tossled by the ocean air. The beaches of Italy were nice, but nowhere near as nice as Greece. More rocks to lounge on, more kelp forests to play in, so on.
"Hey, looks like I caught something," chuckled a familiar voice. Belle glanced over to see Flynn smiling at her as he approached. The wind rippled his linen shirt, making it look like sails blowing out to sea. He sat next to her, greeting her with a peck on the lips. "It's cold out here and you're wearing a suit?"
Belle shrugged. "The cold never bothered me. The winter wind does what it wants; no point in changing the tides. That's not the job of Nereids."
"But you could," Flynn suggested.
"And what? Create a time paradox and upset the balance of earth? I don't think so." Belle muttered. "There are times I wish I could go back, though." She looked out at the gray ocean, specked with white. A mist was coming from the northwest, covering everything. In its own way, it was beautiful. There was no mist that day, she thought....

The summer twilight of the Mediterranean wasn't anything spectacular, but it was always Belle's favorite time of day. She arrived at her favorite rock lounge carrying her ocarina. The flute was carved from a large abalone shell. The whiskers of the mollusk were still around the bumps, and the rainbow colors were only visible through the holes. Belle had perched on the green-gray stones, worn from the ocean's embraces, lazing on her back. Over her shoulder, the sky was turning pink, lavender and blue all at once. The sun was a yellow orange ball sinking behind the purple clouds. Belle kept her tail in tact; after resting she would dive in the shallow pool that was ringed by the rocks. Her sisters never came to this area; they said it was too drab. But Belle came here whenever she could. The kelp forests were fun but got boring every so often. The regular tide pools near civilization had worn their welcome as her sisters and a few of their mermaid or siren friends always showed off to humans. Belle brought the flute to her lips, playing a requiem for the day. The melody was melancholy, and started lulling the Nereid to sleep. Just as the blue turned to indigo as her eyes were closing, something coming out caught her eye.
A caravel was careening near her tide pool. Belle roled her eyes. Ships came by all the time, and none dared to come this close. The rocks would've sunk the ship no matter. Plus, she had no interest in drowning a ship; not after all the trouble the Trojan War caused her. Belle went back to playing. She glanced over before her eyes widened; the ship was changing course. The sails were catching a wind and coming close to her tide pool. Were they mad? Belle sat up, squinting at the rigging. There wasn't any cargo claiming it to be a merchant ship, and no people were dressed in finery - or, from what she saw at least. Then Belle looked up the mast...and froze as the Jolly Roger flapped its diabolical grin in the sun.
Belle looked for ways to escape. She could hide in the pool, but the people on board could easily jump off and catch her. The timing on the ship careening would kill her, so that was out. Rocks blocked all other exits...unless the tide was high enough, she could slide over. Belle started working on that strategy. She pulled and pushed, forcing some ocean to start wash over the barrier. The tip of one of the higher rocks was about to be submerged when a heavy mass fell on her. Belle grabbed at air...but her hands met rough bristly rigging. She would will her tail to become legs, but she had no interest in standing nude in front of strangers. So instead, Belle clutched her prison helplessly, allowing herself to be dragged onto solid oak.
On her back, Belle was glaring at four thuggish faces leering at her. "Get the captain," one of them muttered, "we caught ourselves a genuine mermaid."
"Nereid!" Belle corrected angrily. "I'm a Nereid, for Poseidon's sake!"
"Whatever you are," the fattest bucanneer sneered, "you're the best catch we ever got." His breath stank of stale tobacco, which also turned his teeth the color of dying starfish. If Belle had water, she would've slapped him. But instead she was helpless. The men all looked at her like she was a piece of meat. Belle flapped her tail as a sign of indignance while shouting insults that could've gotten her in more trouble.
Footsteps hushed everyone; Belle included. The captain of the ship had arrived. His eyes were dark blue with an unkempt gray-streaked mane He leered at the net, to which Belle glared back coldly. "This 'ere sea nymph is what's caused ya to swear?" He scowled at the crew. "Ya call me out here with promise of a wench."
"But she spit at me," the short pirate whimpered.
"Shattup," the captain raised the handle of his sabre threateningly. He looked at Belle again. "Let her out of this net. I want to see if she's worth anything."
"Do I look like a rug?" Belle fired back, her eye color shifting. "Release me and perhaps I won't drown you all!"
The captain's lips curled back. His teeth her repulsively browned, some were even black. "A lot of spirit in this one. Ya heard the lass, get this net off of her. She's more useful than we anticipated."

"Thus began my trek away from the Mediterranean," Belle finished her story. She didn't want to go into the nitty gritty. She had lost her innocence a few months later - no need to tell him that. "If I had more time, I would've escaped."
"But then you wouldn't be here," Flynn argued. "Having an angel with his arm around you, sitting in one of the most beautiful places in the world." He kissed her again. When he kissed her, Belle realized he was right. In 1792, Belle never would've seen herself where she was today.