Reverse of Beauty & the Beast

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Demonesqu, Mar 31, 2012.

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    Little town in the center of old' France was waking up from a cold morning. Spring had come but still had not gone out of it's early stages of cold-weather. It still snowed here and there, nothing new to the town. The residence consisted of bakers, a Library, a few families, farmers, and finally the banker. Benedict; was a son of a well known banker around the town. Harvier, which had to remarry twice due to his first wife dyeing of a sickness that spread in the town, Benedict was only 8. Benedict now runs the family business since his father died from the civil war.

    Taking on the business he felt pressured from both his peers, but, most of all from his Step mother. He never felt quite uncomfortable around her, at home he was practically a Cinderella. Doing all the work his in-law was relied on from his father passing. When he heard he had the family business, it was a wave of mixed feelings and stress for him. This also meant he had his own place away from his step-mother. He liked not being the mule for the past 2 years. People admired the presence of Benedict now that he was more in the city. Lots have said they see his father in him. He was nice to everyone although rather sheepish and more shy than most of the men. He was a introvert and could never see himself marry anytime soon... Although he did like the image of having a woman for company than papers and checks. But he knew that it wasn't possible for him. He was too much of a work horse, and tries his best to follow his father's foot steps.

    Benedict now leaves the bank, standing at the door he fumbles with his keys. It was early but he had been there all night slaving over papers and getting things done that he knew could have been done yesterday. He coughed loudly. Benedict was officially working himself to death. He'd come to this conclusion soon enough, feeling the acheness in his hands. He adjusted his glasses after finally, after a few times getting the wrong key, he had locked the door. He adjusted the tightness of his neck hanker, and had to adjust his rather short sleeves to go over his aching wrists. In hopes that the morning frost won't get to it. He looks around the foggy streets, taking a moment to take in the blurriness that the weather had brought him.

    ((Sorry that this is so long, I had to make a background check, hopefully you understand.))​
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    "Where the bloody hell is that boy! It doesnt take that long to close a bank!" The voice stormed through the household, rattling the pictures on the wall. The whole house seemed to shiver under the cruel powerful voice. Clacking noises sounded fastly through the house, followed by the creaking of the stairs that buckled under the womans weight. She mumbled to herself, clutching the sides of her dress as she stormed upstairs to her room "I swear on my life, that witch will pay for cursing me" the slam of a wooden door. The step mother sat on a painted white chair that seemed to be hugged by her pastel blue dress. She fumbled with her hair twisting the blown locks into a tight bun in front of the brass mirror that stood nailed to the wall. Her hair was set and the step mother stared at the younger version of herself, which she knew was covered by wrinkles of age and wisdom.

    She had done to much to remove her rapidly aproaching age, using black magic on the forest animals, sucking their energy like a vampire on a blood moon. Her face resembled her mothers, yet her green eyes flickered with the powers and wisdom of her ancestors. They would have never aproved of her black magic. Wiccan's were raised to protect nature and those who belonged, the woman wanted more than power. She had a lust for money that arose hatred at her son, who had inherited her husbands bank, sure the town was happy with her son running the bank like his father. But she wasnted the money the son kept hidden from her in that bank and she despised the fact.

    Her lips formed a slight wicked smile, she would send her son to the beast woman who lived in the castle. The beast woman whose soul was taken by the very woman staring at her age in the mirror, the beast woman who the step mother has locked in a curse that can only broken by love. The step mother knew very well that the beast woman could no longer love, was never loved and had grown hatred in the beasts soul.

    The devilish plan reminded her of her late son, her plan would work. She stood up quickly, the chair screaming under her forcful push "Benedict!!!" the house rattled under her angery voice. She was sure he could hear her, hopefully he was at the door.​
  3. Benedict soon enough had opened the front door. He had to come and visit his mother, it was a weekend occasion. He did not care much for this necessity but he knew he couldn't leave the miserable woman to herself... Benedict felt his hands raddle as he heard the woman's voice crack and echo to him. He dropped his keys. He muttered a curse and picked up the keys.

    "Y-yes mama. I'm here" his voice was timid and shy. He almost tip-toed upstairs to where she had been waiting... Not expecting the woman to come down stairs herself. He felt his knees shake as eh got closer to her door. Adjusting the collar around his neck, as if it gotten tighter from the stress. The pounding in his head was increasing from his illness... As he was on the top of the stairs he had to hold his head. He leaned against the bars of the stair way. He creeped up to the door to where he knew she was behind. Waiting for him.

    He gave two light knocks on the door out of nervousness... Hoping she wasn't getting dressed. "It's me..Mama" he replied after clearing his throat. He waited for a response leaning in, head almost touching the top of the door from his 6'2" height.
  4. The woman lunged at the door, holding the rim with an angry face "are you finished?" she didnt wait for him to answer before she spoke again "I need some roses and I wont stand for the store bought ones" now was the time to work her magic "you know the castle in the forest? The courtyard has the most beautiful roses. I want you to pick some and return to me before the ball tonight" the thought of her son just mindlessly picking flowers. The beast woman snatching him and devouring him in cold blood. A evilish smile formed on her lips, he wouldnt be able to escape the castle, and she would make sure he couldnt.

    Her daydreams shattered when she realized it was getting late. The father clock downstairs clanged and drew her out of her deadly daydream. She glanced towards the wooden chair and turned ack to her soon-to-be-dead son "You must leave now, before it gets too late!" she urgently shooed him down the stairs, their footsteps creaking the stairs. "Remeber inside the courtyard, take the horse if you must..but I simply must have those roses" she followed him down the stairs, her face shadowed in an evil grin. The bank would soon be hers.
  5. Benedict could not tell why her mother wanted the flowers so badly nor did he had time to ask. Being rushed and basically pushed out, he could not bare but do what she asked. He felt himself shaky when she rushed him out the door... Something wasn't right about that woman... But he figured nothing ever really was. Benedict adjusted his coat almost angrily as he looked at the slammed door behind him. He huffed and slowly walked towards the brown mare that stood next to the small stall. He opened the latch and gave the quarter horse a stroke. He looked back at the house at the top window floor to where his mother's bedroom is. He shook his head and bit his tongue.

    "Don't know why she wants roses...Especially from that castle... A rose does no good to bitterness such as she has." he was mummbling to the horse as he placed the settle and reign on her. The horse dug it's hooves and shook it's head in response. Benedict laughed as if understanding them. With another stroke he jumped onto her and began to ride off into the forest. It was only a left turn on the path... He knew it would take a while to get there. The change of weather soon slipped his mind. He knew there could be a 50/50 chance of there staying mid frost weather and fog or a complete storm. He gruffed under his breath thinking about just waiting for the flower shop to open and getting roses there... But he knew his step-mother too well and that she'd know somehow. He would never hear the end of it until she got the specific flowers...

    Benedict trotted the mare into the gate way of the dark forest. He felt chills down his spine of caution. The horse slowing and resisting it's speed had the same sense. Benedict's sore hands held tightly to the reign not forcing the horse any more than it could, knowing it was more than likely scared of it's unfamiliar surroundings.
  6. The mother stayed 5 feet away at all times, knowing the bloody horse could sense the danger of that castle. A dark blue cloak covered her as she strode behind trees and rocks. All she needed to do was play with the weather a little, make it snow, blizzard. Her blasted son wasnt going to come back alive. She stooped down and picked a thick branch that had fallen, layered with beast claw marks. Another evil smile perched against her shadowed face, if she were to provoke the beast, the creature would surely attack her poor defenseless son. The bark felt heavy in her palm, she focused hard on the bark, how the limb was connected to the other trees in energy. The bark felt cold as ice in her hands and she opened her green eyes, now glowing with strange powers, she flung all of her strength at a nearby tree. The blow silent, the bark shattering into dust as the trunk of the other tree began to splinter. It collapsed ripping itself from its roots and tumbling towards another tree which fell in the oppsite direction. The way back was now blocked.

    Step mother's smile widened as the earth shook. The silence after made her chuckle silently and head, hunched over in pain from the ammount of black magic she had used, towards the town where the sons bank would be hers.
  7. Benedict soon enough felt another chill as he was now a few miles away from the town. The horse kept trotting although neighing in stress as if to worn it's rider what was up ahead... Benedict kept going with the horse he felt like something was watching him... It was an uneasy presence in such a dark and musky area. Benedict was scared to the bones, he breathed heavy and edged the horse to go much faster. The horse picked up speed, the horse was getting scared as well for Benedict's sake. He began to breath heavier, his head pounding did not help this situation. He felt a wind hit him hard in his face. A grunt from his throat came from him trying to cover his face, the wind suddenly blew harder and faster... A storm was for sure picking up... He had to go back but with loose control of the horse and the wind gusting at his face he could not see where he was going.

    Benedict tried to regain sight but his horse was going everywhere the speed slowing down the horse was unsteady and felt himself about to slip off. He regained grip as he jerked the horse into the trees where the wind was less. His skin was cold from the lack of coverage of his clothes. The horse went into a trot. The mare neighed uneasily and shook it's head. It stopped immdeiatly and tried to turn around as soon as it got close to an area. Benedict tried to calm the horse down but it soon jolted up standing on it's hinde legs. Benedict lost his grip and fell onto his back. The snow broke his fall. He got up slowly and stiffly... His lower back now hurting along with his head, and hands. Benedict shook his head.. He brushed himself off and looked around.. His ears felt of frost already and so did his face. He was unsure of where he was now... He kept heading to where the direction was... If he were to find the castle he would have to spend the night in the abandoned palace until morning looks better.

    His teeth chattered as wind picked up soon... He hoped that the horse found safety somewhere.
  8. A low light came from the dark castle, the light became brighter throught the window. A calembra and a clock, though far away from the boy in the snow. Hoping the light will lead Benedict into the castle, they were forbidden by their princess to leave and it was difficult to move when you were a Calembra and a Clock. They watched the man in the snow silently, the calembra shining its flames as bright as it could make them. The Clock invisible behind the shining flames. They could only watch in hope. While their master and the other servants didnt know about the man in the snow. Master was sleeping soundly in the library close to the fireplace. Curled into a ball slept the castles beastly woman. Her ears flickering witht he crackles of the fire, clueless to the stranger freezing outside. If the clock were to kick the Calembra and get him angry, the flames would rise and the stranger would be able to see his way to safety. The Calembra flared angrily, the window fully shining of light and the two miniature servants argued to themselves in small hushed voices as to not wake up the master.
  9. Through all that walking, the storm raging. His face, palms, and everything else that did not get protected from the storm were now frozen. Benedict trembled as he held himself, falling into the snow a couple times. A while ago he fell into bushes scraping is leg and arm, now the wound is much worse from the cold blizzard that struck. Benedict tried looking up, snow beating at his eyes, making him blind. He saw a giant building...A castle like figure in the distance. One light beamed the brightest. It was as if signalling towards him... Telling him to come. Benedict soon enough tried to go faster with his pace. His glasses fell from his face into the snow pile... He did not care. He needed to go towards the warmth.

    Benedict felt himself lean against the cold bared fence... He was at the gates of this castle. He clenched himself to go on more...His sore and freezing body did not want to continue, but, with enough leg power and energy he had left, he swung the gate open, He almost fell but regain balance, going past the gate there was not as much snow..But it was still raging on. He soon enough got to the giant door. Benedict could not go on. He felt himself fall at the steps... His body was so cold and energy was lost, he laid there... Eyes closed, as the pain from his face rushed. Benedict thought for sure it was too late to save him..
  10. The Calembra let out a clinking noise as it rushed down the stairs, the clock hopelessly tripping down the steps as he tried to follow. A few other servants had begun to follow him. Mumbling to themselves about the master and if she were to find out the trouble they would all be in. A couple of tea pots jumped to the kitchen to warm themselves for the visitor they would soon have. Filling themselves with hot water to make tea. A dozen coat hangers worked together to open the door and manevuer themselves to lift Benedict off the frozen stones and carry him into the house. They were only wood and small so it took more than three to lift him up. But they got him in the house and took him to a room with a gleaming fireplace. A giant bowl was ready, filled with warm water so his feet could go in comfortably. The chair in the center of the room closest to the fireplace lowered itself and hightened itself back once Benedict was placed on it. A soft thick fleece blanket was placed over him. The servants watched him for a while untill the Calembra told them to make dinner for the master and the guest. He was making a big choice in serving his master dinner and escaping food to the guest.

    The Calembra stood on the table to the farest edges of the room, watching the chair ever so lightly, hoping the man wouldnt die from the cold, but in this castle the cold was the least of his worries. The master wouldnt be pleased.