Beauty and the Feast (Pancakes + 7.39)

[HappyPancakes]

Before the Curse

Name: Princess Geneviève Du Lounge
Age: 21
Background: Geneviève's birth was a scandal from the beginning: Her father, then a prince, had followed his heart and eloped his intended's lady in waiting, fiery haired Anouk, installing her as queen when the King had died. As king and queen though, they were rather happy, and tried to raise Geneviève to be not only kind but intelligent and able to protect herself in war. However, tragedy struck as Queen Anouk died of a mysterious illness twelve years after their marriage. To protect the throne and to give Geneviève a mother figure, he quickly remarried Phillipa Parrdu, a wealthy but haughty duchess. However, the King was in no state to treat his new bride like a bride, which lead the arrogant duchess to focus her attentions on Geneviève - she quickly stopped any of her lessons that she thought were "too unlady like" for the young princess, and began to punish her whenever she acted like anything but a princess. It became to Geneviève that if she were to survive, she would be exactly what Phillipa wanted, losing herself along the way. It was only at sixteen when she learned of her attraction towards women, and would act on it only in private.

After the curse

Age: 26

Geneviève readjusted her dress, making sure her corset was as tightly wound as her lady had left it before she snuck out for more ... pressing affairs. She scanned her body in the small mirror of the room, seeing the brunette maid in the reflection tightening up her own dress. Her face was still flush, and she knew she was running late as it was. But still, she hadn't let herself enjoy what was hers for a rather long time, and it wasn't that long. Besides, she was their princess. They were the ones who were there for her. They could wait - what she wanted, could not. "I've warned you about your tongue, Josette. " Geneviève began to fuss, scanning the rest of her body and so far being satisfied until she saw it - a tiny bruise on her breast."And I thought I warned you about leaving any marks." She said, rather cross as she rolled her eyes and covered the bruise enough with more of her collar. "I wonder what more you would have messed up if I weren't fully prepared. But that's in the past, and you just reached of age. You'll make it up to me later" She muttered before fixing herself up completely and turning around. "Tell me, how do I look." She ordered, waiting for the young maid to answer, the ice in her eyes more powerful in the dim of the room.

"Perfect, my lady." Josette responded shyly.

"Good." Geneviève beamed as she opened the door. "Now, take me to Lady Phillipa. She's expecting me now." She waited as the maid took her to her chambers where her stepmother was waiting, letting them do her makeup in front of her stepmother's careful eye. "Do excuse me mother, I was attending to business." She said, winking at Josette before sitting down. As Lady Phillipa spoke of the relief that she was no longer being 'raised like a boy' under her father's eye and how proud she was of this day to come, Geneviève grew bored, yawning and resting her chin on her hand, only to smudge some of the powder and lipstick. As soon as she realized it, Geneviève silenced her stepmother with the raise of her hand. "Mother, there is a reason I hired the best of the best for my ladies. There is no hope for you but I need to look flawless," her brows tensed. "You. Fix this now" She ordered, pointing at one of the maids working on her stepmother's face. "And your job depends on if my hair looks perfect too, isn't it." She frowned, looking at Phillipa. "You're quite done. My father is expecting you." she excused the woman as she focused on herself in the mirror.

It was only until her hair was perfectly quaffed and intricately done, her makeup fixed and she was adorned in her jewels was Geneviève ready to leave the room. She left with her ladies in waiting, also similiarly adorned, but nowhere as beautiful as her. She smiled at them as they walked with her - she hated every single one of them. Geneviève reached the top of the staircase standing gracefully and looking down at her intended fiance, Percival de Monde. Her smile kept as she greeted him just like Lady Phillipa had taught her many years ago, and shared a dance with him. Only then the guests could relax as Geneviève sat on her throne next to him, her father and step-mother on the same side. The affair was in full swing, Geneviève paying much more of her attention to some of the more scandalously dressed ladies than her own fiance. Of course, her own fiance was finding his own attention discussing buisness with her father, and as she scanned the room, she saw openings to the kitchen and parlors. Geneviève's heart briefly dropped: she remembered balls like this as a young girl, when her mother thought she had gently put her to sleep. In reality, she'd snuck down to the kitchens, practicing dancing with young parlour boys and girls and her nanny picking her up to watch all the lords and ladies dance. She remembered saying she wanted to dance with a beautiful lady just like papa danced with mama, even when her nanny tried to dissuade that.

Geneviève straightened herself up and out of her memory. The innocence of her childhood could wait as a maid slowly approached her, saying there was a beggar at the door. Now, now, she couldn't possibly have that. On her night of all nights? No, she wasn't going to let the woman go that easily. "Bring her to the middle of the floor." She ordered, waiting until the maid brought back a cloaked woman, asking for a place to rest her head for the night. The cloaked woman also asked why she was brought to the middle of an extravagant ball such as this one. "Why are you not kneeling." She hissed, a nod of her head and a guard kicked the woman until she was on the ground. "And to think you could come to me with such insolence." Geneviève rolled her eyes.

The cloaked woman scowled. "Insolence," She cackled before her hood came off, turning into stunning gown and her haggard appearance morphing into that of an exquisite beauty. Before Geneviève could say more, the woman turned to her. "Insolence is nothing compared to the darkness that has taken over your heart, thoughts and every fiber of your being." she boomed, "And you will bring ruin to your kingdom unless things change." She said, her magic bringing down a chandelier and killing many in the hall as she stepped towards Geneviève's throne. The guests, along with Percival, began to flee.

Geneviève glared, standing to face the woman, "How dare you bring this to my ball, my castle!" She accused, "I'll have you hang you bitch-" Before she knew it, Geneviève was on the ground, unable to move.

"You will do no such thing." The witch continued, "In fact, you need a lesson." She smirked, watching as her magic went through Geneviève. By the time it had left, the princess' body began to morph, the sound of bones cracking and shifting paired with her cries of pain. "You'll be left as miserable and ugly on the outside as you are inside. You and everything you love will die unless you learn the true meaning of kindness, humility, and love." The witch continued, murdering every other guest in the hall. "And no one outside of this castle will remember this name, this legacy, until you learn." she frowned, staring at the King and Queen with nothing but contempt as she stepped aside, revealing what had become of their child. Screams of horror rose from castle servants as they saw Lady Phillipa torn to shreds, her innards dug into and blood pooling around her before the same was done to the king. The beast's eyes were covered in a trance of red as it continued to destroy tapestries and portraits, howling as she was truly beastly. The witch saw the cracks of doors with the servants. The beast saw the flickers of light from those cracks and paced towards the doors. But when a servant was thrown out as as sacrifice by the others, the beast didn't move. Even when the witch forced the door open, expecting carnage, the beast didn't move. "Interesting," the witch pondered. "So you do care."

"W-what did you do to her!" An older woman cried out, "My little girl."

The witch floated into the air slightly, casting her own spell on the remainder of the servants. "No harm shall come to you, but until she learns, truly learns, you are bound with her. " She explained softly, "As she begins to grow in the right direction, she will begin to look like her born self again. But when she regresses, the more she'll end up this way." she said, suddenly starting to feel a slight remorse for the fear that she caused, "She needs all the help she can get." The witch disappeared, the rage went out of the beast's eyes, restoring their brilliant, icy blue. The beast took a look at the destruction, the destruction she knew she caused. She could only howl, even if she still had her voice, and paced quickly to the west wing. And for five years, that's where she remained.

 

[7.39]

Aria Minerva

Name: Aria Minerva
Age: 20
Brief Background: Aria had suffered a three-year witch hunt that had costed her mother, though the hunt was disbanded after realizing it was under false accusations it didn't erase Aria's distrust for people. Despite that, she had grown up to be kind-hearted but never getting too close to anyone, even the orphanage that took her in. She's taken a liking to books, reading more than people could count on their families hands and toes and it knowledgeable because of that, because of that she's admired by the men in town, though she's turned every single one down without fail. She can't deal with the sight of blood.

Fear filled Aria'sheart, but she didn't dare move from her hiding spot, the sound of her father pleading with the men echoed in her head, it was the only thing she could hear. She curled into a small ball bringing her knees closer to her chest, flinching at the sound of her mother's voice breaking as she begged with her father. She shut her eyes tightly, the tears finally spilling over as the silence had finally fallen over the house. The floor above her creaked as the men explored the house carefully, whispering to themselves, quiet enough just so their words didn't meet Aria's ears. "We'll find you, you fucking witch!" Those few words drove the stake of fear deeper into the girl's heart, her mind unable to process what they meant. A witch? She thought, looking above her to see the shadows of their bodies shift through the cracks of the floor. She couldn't bring herself to argue their accusations, and the sound of dripping water forced her to peel her eyes away from them.

With tentative steps Aria approached the dripping sound, seeing the dark liquid pooling beneath a shadow.

"FOUND YOU!" A voice exclaimed wrapping their fingers around her arm and giving her a firm yank back. She was frantic; she could barely breathe as she clawed the unknown hand, her voice unable to leave her throat. "Whoa, whoa!" A more familiar voice exclaimed, a familiar and gentle warmth now holding her cheek. Aria's brown eye's flicked open like a light switch, in the afternoon sun they almost looked red, and in those red eyes, she saw Mira, a blonde with gentle eyes. "Are you okay there, hun?" She chuckled as she moved her hand from Aria's cheek to the top of her head, smoothing down stray hairs.

"W-what time is it?" Aria managed to choke out, she was snow white and shaking. She couldn't recall her dream in explicit detail, but the fear she felt kept her blood cold.

"Middle of the afternoon my dear," She said in a calming voice "I suspect you fell asleep reading that book in your lap, alas, it's lunchtime and you have to help me prepare for the kids." There was a playful ring to how she said this as if it was more of a game than a task. Though Aria couldn't say no and getting a firm grasp on the book, she wasn't even aware she had and with the help of Mira, hoisted herself onto her feet, dusting away the grass and dirt on her dress. The pair walked, Aria remained silent as Mira went on about how fussy the children were getting, complaining particularly about the ones closer to their teens. The fear that gripped her melted away with the conversation as a gentle smile graced her features as her day went by as quietly as it could.

The sky bled red and rained ashes; Aria ran through the forest snapping every twig, tripping over almost every root, her feet aching but the adrenaline and the sound of dogs barking kept her going. She didn't have the option of rest. "She's small! she couldn't have gotten far!" A voice boomed over; the brunette could swear she saw the leaves shake at the sound of his voice. Her eyes lit up at the sound of water, hope filling her chest as she rushed towards it. The girl dashed towards it, the promise of throwing the dogs off her trail being the new thing that kept her going. Suddenly a sharp pain struck her shoulder, an unpleasant mixture of cold and heat washing over her.

Once again Aria's eye's snapped open, the moonlight exposing the sheen of sweat on her face. For a moment Aria laid there trying to control her breaths before she let go of a shuttered sigh and threw the blankets off herself. "A walk," She mumbled to herself as she began to get dressed with shaky hands. After calming down a bit more and with light steps, she left her home, pulling the shawl tighter over her shoulders to ignore the night breeze as she wandered out the of sleeping town and into the forest that surrounded it. Aria's mind was littered with thoughts, legends about a castle that was hidden in the forest where a monster laid in wait for prey to foolishly wander in.

She smiled. The fantasty the townsfolk had come up with within the past few years was good enough to be written into a proper book if given enough elbow grease. A howl broke her train of thought and her brow knitted in confusion before realization set in. The cries of he animals came from behind, so she was forced to go forward. In irritation Aria picked up the pace, rushing through the forest carefully avoiding the trees feet that would slow her path. It wasn't long that a faint light caught her attention and natrually she followed it like a moth to a flame. Though unlike a moth she stopped when she had gotten close enough the flame, her eyes widening and mouth forming a small 'o.'

A castle.

Granted it was old, slowly being taken back by the forest if anything, but it was there, standing. The stories of a monster living in the forest resurfaced and Aria felt a chill go down her spine, but the possibility of wolves behind her didn't give her many options. Rather than giving into rumor's the young woman steeled herself and approached the door, giving it a firm three knocks.

 

[HappyPancakes]

The castle, once cream and gold in all its splendor, had vines covering as high as the walls could make. The marble knight perched on the highest points of the castle were no match for the vines that suffocated them, as they no longer could protect the royal family they served. Five years had served to chip at whatever was left uncovered, for some of the gold to only peek through on occasions. This was the castle the uninvited girl laid eyes on as she was unaware of what was to come. She was also unaware of the insides. Unaware of the untouched grand ballroom, covered with shorn tapestries and elaborate, torn ball gowns and dress coats. Portraits of the princess as a woman were shorn through, the royal family incomplete in memory.

The only completely intact portraits in the halls were those of a brilliant, noble redheaded queen, holding a young innocent with hair like hers. But even those portraits were doomed as the west wing proved to be an even more exaggerated version of the damage in the ballroom. The juxtaposition of the perfectly intact, but hidden library? Scratched up halls, furniture with bite marks on the legs and scratched to the bare, and fur tufted at random parts of the hallway as the beast lay there, blood on her paws and the edges of her mouth. It was a lucky night when she was able to hunt, providing meat not only for herself but for the others who served her.

When she didn't hunt, the servants made due, even if they grew thin at some times. The ones who remembered the princess as the way she once was, adapted less quickly to the changes. However, despite how long it took for those to adapt or not, they would all become skittish to the slightest of noise, unless it was an opportunity for meat and bread. They all tried to live normal lives though, as there would occasionally be laughter or relaxation when the beast slept. However, there was no real predictable reaction to the unwanted girl at their door.

The servants skittered, panic brewing among almost all of them until an older woman hushed them all, making her way to the door. The others warned her against going, suggesting the girl would leave if no one answered. None the less, the woman answered the door, scanning the girl at the door. The woman was at a dilemma: Let the woman out, and the potential of her life on her hands, or bring the woman in, and risk an undetermined punishment. "Young miss," The woman finally spoke, "It is turning into darkness, and it would be wrong of me to lend you to the wolves, but if I let you in, you must promise to hide, and not make a sound, even now. Otherwise, you must leave." She warned. "Nod if you understand me." the elderly woman said, waiting for any sign that her mistress would awaken.