beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle probably wouldn't have gone into the forest looking for her father if it weren't for the fact that, were he home, she'd never be allowed.

She understands his concerns. Really she does. If it weren't for the fact that he's the local lawman, she wouldn't even be allowed out into town on her own. She's beautiful (as no one can shut up about for thirty seconds at a stretch; is it any wonder she prefers books?) and while he can protect her in their tiny town, the Witchwood is another matter. People get lost there - sometimes the Wood spits out men and women and children from other villages entirely, near theirs instead, and they have to be given maps and sent the long way around to get home - and anything could happen and he has no jurisdiction over crimes committed there.

But the woods are beautiful, and she's going to bring a blank book to draw a map in, and her father has been missing for four days and even if Belle's only concern were her safety she'd need to find him. Because orphaned seventeen-year-old girls tend to find it in their own best interest to get married, and if she wanted to get married, it would not be to anyone in the village.

He chased in a highwayman (whose crime was not committed in the forest, so all is in its proper order).

The highwayman came out.

Charlie did not.

Charlie, apparently, has gotten lost.

And Belle is going to go in and get him.

---

Her map is wrong.

No - no, she was very careful. She knows people get lost here; she knows the woods are twisty, suspects the landmarks must include duplicates. She brought bits of ribbon to mark her way. She's been changing colors as she gets deeper into the forest, and she's been traveling for almost a day now, and that ribbon right there was tied in the first hour. She's not that turned around; it's broad daylight and she's been tracking the sun. Not even magic, if magic existed, would be able to move the sun.

That leaves her, and the tree. She has been picked up and put back where she started or she has been followed by this tree. Or the ribbon, perhaps, if it's magically untied itself and made exactly the same knot around a different branch. ...No, there is the bit of blood from where she tripped and scraped her hand against the bark of that tree, and blood and ribbon both following her is more of a stretch than her having been transported or the tree having walked on its very roots to heel like a dog.

Damnation.

Well. Most people who wander into the Witchwood are eventually heard from again. But it's getting dark, and she trips more than enough in daylight; she underestimated the treachery of the ground deep in among the trees.

She goes on. She keeps making her map - it's still possible it will be useful for something, and she has precious little else to do while she walks alone through the dimming woods - keeping an eye out for a place to sleep.

She finds one.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
From a distance, through the tall trees, it just looks like an unusually well-lit clearing overgrown with thorny plants.

Well, that's true enough, but it is not the complete truth. Because from outside the clearing it's not apparent that in the middle of it there lies a proud old castle, circled by a crumbling outer wall that serves mostly as the framework for a riot of roses. One tall iron door stands out from the gate, listing to the side under the weight of ambitious vines; the other lies flat on the ground, its graceful bars bent and twisted and half-gone to rust, with a sapling oak sprouting out of the middle.
beheld_beauty: (la belle)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle blinks at this. She's never heard of anyone finding anything like this in the Witchwood, and she's heard her share of Witchwood stories.

It's certainly more worth checking out than another mile of possibly-ambulatory trees.

She sidles around the sapling and past the wall.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The upper parts of the castle are still lit by the setting sun; the colours it paints on the stone are quite beautiful. And the castle is in surprisingly good repair, considering the condition of the gardens. There is no sign of rust or rot on the main doors, which are made of solid wood banded with elaborately wrought iron.



As she approaches, the doors creak open.
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Hello?" she calls.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Silence.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
Okay, weird. Maybe the doors just swing open sometimes, from air pressure - though she didn't feel a breeze. Maybe it's uninhabited and she can sleep in it overnight without having to convince anyone to shelter her. She picks her way through the overrun garden and peers through the door, not stepping in just yet. "Hello?" she calls, louder.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
More silence.

The interior of the castle is richly decorated, lit by a selection of tidy lanterns and a beautiful chandelier, and spotless. Someone obviously lives here - in fact, it should take multiple servants to keep the whole place this clean. But if anyone does, they're not visible from the doorway and they're not making much noise.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
"I'm sorry to barge in like this," she calls into the silence, "but the door was open, and I'm terribly lost - and I'm looking for my father, has he been by this way?"
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
No response.
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
Maybe there's been some kind of emergency in another part of the castle and everyone's dealing with that. She walks in a bit farther, looking for anything to suggest where the servants and their masters might have gotten to.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The doors close gently behind her. Across the room, lanterns along the railings of a wide marble stair kindle to life pair by pair from the lowest to the highest. It's as though the castle itself is saying 'come upstairs, please'.
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
The doors could be anything.

The lanterns - not.

Lanterns cannot do that.

First the trees and now this.

Belle turns and goes as fast as she dares back to the door and hauls on the handle.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It sticks on the first pull, then swings open easily.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
Back out into the garden, back out to the wall, she did not come equipped to handle a magic castle.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The gate is still just as open, but the woods outside have changed. There are no ribbons in sight. The trees look taller, and older.

And it is still getting dark.
beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
She goes out the gate regardless. She knew this might take more than a day; she came prepared to start a fire and sleep under a tree somewhere.

She uses the remaining light to case the area, looking for an inviting tree.

These trees are less inviting than their predecessors.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Nothing obviously magical happens...

...except that every time she gets out of sight of the castle, a few more steps take her back in view of its clearing. No matter which direction she goes.
beheld_beauty: (nuit)
Author: beheld_beauty
...

Okay. Something magical is going on, she has no idea how it works, and if it wants it bad enough, she has no powers with which to combat it.

Given the givens -

She may as well cooperate with it to the point of having a roof over her head in the night.

She goes back inside the castle.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The lanterns going up the stairs are still burning. The doors shut themselves behind her again.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
She tries the door. (Just to make sure it still works.)
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It's terribly cooperative.
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
Good.

She lets them close again, and lets the lights lead her up the stairs.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
A continuous line of helpful lanterns leads her directly to a bedroom, as clean and luxurious as the rest of the castle, with warm rugs on the floor and an enormous canopied bed.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
Well, that's nice of it.

She goes in, and closes the door behind her, and waits five seconds, and then attempts to open it.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It works just fine.
beheld_beauty: (nuit)
Author: beheld_beauty
She closes it again.

And she sighs and flops into the bed for the night.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes




In the morning, the door opens, and in sidles a tray laden with delicious breakfast. She may or may not catch it in the act of setting itself up by her bedside.
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
She does catch it. She attempts to interrupt the self-pouring teapot.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The teapot rights itself in mid-pour and settles back onto the tray.
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
She also attempts to catch the knife that's buttering her toast. How does this work?
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The knife stills when she grabs hold of it.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
And if she lets go, midair...?
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It puts itself down neatly on the tray.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
And now her toast is half-buttered. Hmm. She wonders how smart it is. Fairy tales never agree on what magic would do if it existed. She gets to check. "It's okay, go on," she says.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The knife resumes buttering her toast.

The teapot tips questioningly toward the partly filled cup, not far enough to pour any more tea into it.
beheld_beauty: (sourire)
Author: beheld_beauty
"You too," she says, delighted in spite of herself, "it's okay."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The teapot lifts itself up and pours and settles back down, all without spilling a drop.

The knife completes its task and puts itself down again, buttery side up so as not to get anything on the tray.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Thank you," Belle says, and she tucks in. Mmm. "Are there any people here or just a lonely magic castle that wants somebody to look after?"
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
No answer from the cutlery.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
She looks around expectantly at the rest of her room. If the lights know where she is and the dishes understand speech, maybe the rug will tilt its pile into the shape of words, she doesn't know.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Nothing.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Okay then.

She gets up to check out the rest of the castle.

She brings her map-book. Perhaps the building is more amenable to mapping than the surrounding forest.

She's worried about Charlie, but she doesn't seem to have any way to make progress at finding him, and it's possible that someone who can help her lives here.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The interior of the castle is reassuringly consistent. Also, very pretty.

When not leading her around, the lanterns kindle themselves wherever she looks and douse themselves when she leaves a room.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
Well, this is a nice castle, and it's going spare, unless someone is hiding from her behind that one locked door. (She doesn't pry.) She might just move into it if she can ever find out how to get between it and civilization.

It takes her until lunchtime to explore the whole thing less the single locked room.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Shortly after noon, another tray of food comes skittering down the hall.
beheld_beauty: (la belle)
Author: beheld_beauty
Mmm, lunch.

Belle fills up and then she decides to go out and see if she can make any headway at discerning a pattern in the way the forest steers her.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
This time it lets her get much farther from the castle before steering her back... but 'much farther' is still only a few minutes' walk.
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
She writes down everything she notices.

It looks random to her.

Finally she lets herself be steered all the way back into the castle to mull over what she's noted down while not trying to take more data. She gets nowhere. She gives up and experiments with talking to the furniture.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Requests for things that involve simple movement—'come here', 'go there', 'wiggle if you understand me'—are generally obliged. More abstract queries, or statements that don't involve asking for anything, are ignored.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
She's still curious about her idea of the rug pile forming words. She writes some words of her own in the carpet: write back if you can understand me.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The rug waits for a moment, then wriggles and flattens itself out, providing no words back to her.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
Hmm. Disappointing.

She makes her way to the locked door. "Will you open up?" she asks, addressing the door politely.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It rattles for a moment, then relaxes.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
Huh.

If there's a person in the castle at all, it's past this door, and it's otherwise so obliging except about letting her get away from it for more than a few minutes at a time. "Excuse me!" she calls. "Can anyone who's not an object hear me?"
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
There is a sound—like someone or something exhaling sharply.

It's not very objectlike, but neither is it very human.
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
Oh.

Oookay.

Maybe this is the menagerie part of the castle and it has not kept all of the cages in good repair and this door is locked for her safety.

All right then.

She backs away, and processes her thoughts in her notebook - in the dining room, so she can see if dinner presents itself differently when she's there and not in a random other location.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
It does!

Instead of setting itself up on the tray, her meal serves itself onto the table in fancy dishes. Apparently it's roast duck tonight. There is even wine.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle waters down her wine heavily - she partakes, drinking unwined water is hazardous where she's from and she doesn't know if this castle is different in that respect, but she doesn't like to overdo it.

She follows the dishes, when they clear themselves. She wants to see if she can figure out where the hell the duck came from.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
There is a kitchen, where the dishes clean themselves in water that pours out of thin air with the help of flying dishrags. Then the dishes put themselves away, the rags wring themselves out, and the washbasin scoots over to the kitchen door and empties itself onto the ground outside.

The adjoining pantry is very well stocked with non-perishable items, but contains no more ducks.
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
She checks the outside. Maybe there's poultry kept somewhere in the garden; she hasn't thoroughly inspected the garden yet.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
No poultry. Lots of roses. Some herbs, growing more or less wild.
beheld_beauty: (sourire)
Author: beheld_beauty
She tells a rosebush to wiggle if it understands her. Just to be thorough.
deslandes: (Default)
Author: deslandes
The rosebush either does not hear her, or chooses not to obey.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Ah well.

It seems to be just plants out here. And not even an actual vegetable plot. She'll lurk in the kitchen before lunch the next day and see where the produce and meat comes from. (She doesn't expect to be up in time for breakfast.)

She goes back inside, and says to the kitchen experimentally, "Tomorrow morning for breakfast I would love crepes with strawberry and blackberry preserves."

This does in fact sound delicious, but it's also very specific; the kitchen will most likely only give her this if it can understand fairly complex language.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
A few cabinet doors rattle, perhaps in an acknowledging way.
beheld_beauty: (nuit)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Thank you."

And she goes upstairs and whiles away the time before bed, and goes to bed.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The next morning: crepes, with strawberry and blackberry preserves.
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
Yum. Information.

Belle settles into a routine of sorts: experiment with requesting things of the castle, experiment with trying to go into the forest, three tasty meals a day. She takes up singing while doing those of these activities that don't involve chewing. She's not good at it, but it fills the silence.

She makes no progress into the forest, but she keeps trying. It will not help Charlie to fret, it will only help Charlie to get out and find him, so she expends energy on the latter and not the former.
deslandes: (⑮ fangs ♌)
Author: deslandes




And then one morning before breakfast arrives, down by the locked door, something

roars.
beheld_beauty: (énervé)
Author: beheld_beauty
Gleep!

The roaring wakes Belle up from her half-doze and leaves her sitting up shivering in bed.

Has the something-in-the-menagerie-or-whatever gotten out? What is it? Has the castle not been feeding it? (How long has it been devoid of inhabitants, she can't gather any clues when it keeps itself so well-ordered and free of dust, the garden suggests a long time, surely the castle must have been feeding the animal or animals if they're still alive?)

She runs through her notes about the layout. She has not found a way to get to the roof yet, but maybe she can come up with one. Roaring-thing won't be able to get her there. Probably. (Certainly she has no chance of outrunning it, even discounting how the forest turns her around. The roof is dicey - she may topple from it and die - but not guaranteed to fail.)
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
There is a further pounding and rattling, as of something very strong making an extensive effort to get through a recalcitrant door.

Then quiet. But not the silence of the lonely castle. There is some kind of distant noise, too far away to be very clear.

Belle's door opens and in comes her breakfast tray, in more of a hurry than usual.
beheld_beauty: (dégoût)
Author: beheld_beauty
She catches her tray and tells the door, "Close, please - stay that way till I say -"
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The door shuts itself firmly.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle gives herself a moment to calm down.

She eats her breakfast, subdued.

She inspects her window and the possibility of getting to the roof without having to go out into the hall with the released roaring thing. The prospects would not be good even for someone stronger and defter than she is.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The tray sails over to the door and knocks gently against it, as though asking to be let out.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
"If the hallway is empty," Belle says to the door, "let the tray out then close again."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The door opens. The tray leaves. The door closes.
beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
Okay.

She's wearing a dress the castle supplied - there's a dizzying array, everything fits her, things she doesn't like vanish when she's not looking so for a while she only tried things on over her original clothes in case the vanishing was haphazard but everything's been behaving so she's currently in a practical number of mid-calf blue cotton. It's not really practical for climbing, though. She's not practical for climbing.

She's stuck, but at least there's food that can tell whether the hallway has a creature in it or not and a self-operating ensuite bathroom.

She's running out of space in her notebook, is the only problem that staying in this room has which staying in the general castle environs as she has to anyway doesn't.

"If there's a blank notebook available, I'd like one, brought on the tray with lunch," she says aloud.

And she sits back on the bed.

And sings.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Time passes.

Lunch arrives, with a blank notebook on the tray. All the dishes are extra careful not to spill on it.
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
Oh good. She thanks them. And pats the sugar bowl on the lid.

She can be okay here for a long time while she thinks of something.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
For the rest of the day, there are no more strange noises from the rest of the castle.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
She waits.

She finishes the notebook she brought with her and starts on the second one. (She is getting sick of the songs she knows. She tries her hand at making up her own. She's not very good at it, but it passes the time when she's out of escape-related creative juice and needs to think about something else.)
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
A few days later, her breakfast tray comes in laden with an unusual burden: a bunch of roses.

On close inspection, they look like they were not cut but ripped from their bushes; there is even blood on a few of the thorns, and oddly enough, golden-brown hairs stuck here and there.

The bouquet is tied up clumsily with a wrinkled blue ribbon, and there is a folded bit of paper stuck between the ribbon and the flowers.
beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
...Oooookay.

She picks up and inspects the paper.
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
It says, in terrible handwriting, letters more cut and stabbed into the paper than merely written, ink blotches everywhere: sOrRY for tHE roARING
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
Wow.

Okay.

There is some manner of person here. Something that, unlike the furniture, can use language on his or her own.

Belle sets the roses aside and nibbles distractedly on her breakfast, contemplating the note.

After she's done eating, she says, "Just a minute," to her tray, and tears a page from her notebook and writes:

Who are you? Why does this castle keep me from leaving?

And she folds this note neatly and puts it among her dishes and says, "Please bring that note to whoever wrote it."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The tray hops in place once, then leaves.

An hour later, it comes back with a reply, written on her note: someone has drawn a straggling line down from Why does this castle keep me from leaving? to the words, DON'T KNow

Her other question is ignored.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
Hm.

Well, if he or she isn't going to explain who he or she is, that's frustrating, but at least she has someone to talk to. Was it you who was roaring? I thought it was some kind of animal. Is it safe to leave the room? she writes back, and sends the tray away with a pat.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
This reply is somewhat faster.

Three separate lines, one from each sentence, down to the single word YES.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
...Okay, if it's an animal, it's a writing animal.

She wonders if it talks aloud. In case it doesn't, she brings her notebook and her pencils.

And she steps out of her room.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
The locked door is open. The side of it that usually faces Belle's part of the castle has suffered some superficial damage.

On the other side, there is a well-lit hallway.
beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle follows the lights, ears attentive.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
There's that breathing sound again, coming from a half-open door up ahead.

The door belongs to a library.

Amid ranks of tall shelves holding several fortunes' worth of books, there is a table; lounging in an enormous chair at the table, there is a... beast.

Its clawed, furred hands have visible fingers and thumbs; its arms and shoulders are human in structure, though likewise furred. Its head resembles some kind of cat, with a long luxurious mane several shades darker than its golden brown fur. The fur is patterned haphazardly, spots here and stripes there, neither symmetrical nor obviously reminiscent of a particular species.

It does not wear clothes - but then, with that thick coat of fur, clothes would be both redundant and uncomfortable.

It watches her steadily when she comes into view.
beheld_beauty: (la belle)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...Hello."

She swallows.

"I'm Belle."
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
"Hello, Belle." says the beast. The movement of speech reveals impressive fangs in its black-lipped mouth, but it makes no actual threatening move. And it speaks much more clearly, and with more obvious ease, than it writes.
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...Er, so, have you been here the entire time I have?"
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"I have been here," it says, with amusement clear in its voice, "for a hundred years and more."
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Wow, I didn't know anyone could live that long," she says with immediate interest, "how do you do it - are there more of you around? What are you? What's your name?"
deslandes: (⑮ fangs ♌)
Author: deslandes
It laughs, showing teeth.

"I did not do any of this," it says, with a gesture to its furred body and the castle that surrounds them. "It was done to me. My name was among the things taken, and it is one I do not miss."
beheld_beauty: (dégoût)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Oh. Oh dear. So - what do I call you, then? And who did all this? What do they want?"
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
"I don't even know if she is still alive. Call me what you like. 'Beast', if you can think of nothing better."
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
"I - okay, if you like," says Belle. She's not sure why anyone would want to be named Beast, but she's not going to argue the point. "Why did she do all this?"
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"I often wonder," he says, shaking his head. "She told me I made her angry, but it's a long way to go to punish a boy for running into an old woman in the street and laughing when she falls down."
beheld_beauty: (dégoût)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...You mean to tell me that not only there are people in the world who can make magic, cooperative castles and entire forests' worth of responsive direction away or towards same, but there are people in the world who will do that over trivial things like that? If that's the case how did I get to be seventeen without knowing magic was real?"
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
"She was the first witch I ever met," he says. "Also the last. And I don't think she told me the whole of the story."

He smiles slightly, revealing a glint of fang.

"I was seventeen, too, come to think."
beheld_beauty: (la belle)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle looks around at the library. "I was looking for my father, when I walked into the forest - he went missing - but if it weren't for that, I wouldn't mind being stuck here so much, especially now that I've seen this library... this is a nice castle. You say she was trying to punish you? With a nice cooperative magic castle and a prolonged lifespan and - well, I guess the entrapment and the cosmetic changes were probably unwelcome, but I dunno, I'd consider the tradeoff if I got to live to be a perfectly healthy hundred and seventeen." Pause. "The handwriting might be a problem if it was me. I write a lot."
deslandes: (⑭ bloodmouth ♌)
Author: deslandes
He looks away with a soft growl.

"I've been alone here for more than a century. I'd sooner be dead—I've tried to be dead. And the castle wasn't always so nice." He snorts. "I think I've charmed it, over the years."
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...Then... why didn't you come looking for me sooner, once I showed up? If you're lonely?"

Belle gets lonely, but it takes a long time. Introversion has its perks.
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
He runs his fingers through his mane and shakes it out with a sigh.

"Because—I do know why the forest brought you here," he says. "Or I think I know. And I hate it."
beheld_beauty: (la belle)
Author: beheld_beauty
"What is it?"

She wants to know. She always wants to know.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
"All this," he says, "this body, the forest, the castle - it's a curse. And the curse can be broken. She told me how."

He looks away, sighing again.

"True love. If I were to meet a person, and that person came to love me, and I to love them in return, the spell would be broken and I would be human again. And I could leave."
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...I can't leave either," says Belle. "How - how long will it keep me, if - Wait, people get lost in the woods all the time. You said you've been alone. Why wasn't it steering you any people before? Why me?"
deslandes: (⑭ bloodmouth ♌)
Author: deslandes
"It doesn't write me helpful little notes," he says. "I don't know. But I think the spell brought you here because you're the first person who's had a chance of breaking it."
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
"So -" Why not attempt levity, what harm can it do. "You're picky?"
deslandes: (⑮ fangs ♌)
Author: deslandes


He throws his head back and laughs.

The sound is very human, even if the sight isn't.
beheld_beauty: (sourire)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Well," says Belle, giggling a little along with him and looking at the bookshelves. "I don't suppose there's any books on magic in here? Because if I were you I'd have tried to learn it and just directly disenchant the place, with a century and then some to do it in."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
He spreads his hands. His enormous, clawed hands.

"Mostly, I try not to touch them. Never ends well for the book."
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Oh. Well. I'll just get started on that for you, then, maybe there's something."
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
He grins.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle sets about taking each book one at a time off the shelf, inspecting its title, and putting it back if it is not about magic. (Not without regret, as there are many interesting-looking volumes that have nothing to do with the topic in question, but, priorities.)

"So," she says, as she's halfway through the first section of shelf, "if you can't even handle the books, what have you been doing, out here all alone?"
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
"Eat. Sleep. Yell at the walls. Talk to the furniture. I like the smell of this room," he admits, with a gesture to the bookshelves, "that's why I hid in here when I heard you."
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Books smell lovely," agrees Belle. "Hmm, I think this section might all be fiction..." She abandons her book-by-book search for more of a random dip across the stacks, trying to triangulate the theorized magic section.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
Books about magic that aren't fiction take up the entire north wall; the ladder for the outermost shelves skates over on its rails to let her climb to the top, if she so chooses.

Many of these books are in archaic dialects, or other languages entirely.
beheld_beauty: (inspecter)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle can make some progress on the archaic dialects. She is not, alas, a polyglot, but she notes insofar as she can what languages they are in and makes a note in her notebook to check for instructional texts on those languages. After all, if this doesn't pan out soon, she might be here a long time. "I don't suppose you know how to read -" She rattles off the languages she's found that aren't intelligible to her.
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
"I could, once," he says. "These eyes are no help."
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Okay, if I'm desperate I can make hash of some pronunciations or copy everything into large print and we can decipher them, but I might be able to do with the material in the vernacular." She starts sorting through the books she's pulled, determining if they're introductory or advanced, theoretical or practical.
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
Theoretical versus practical is about an even split, with a few that resist categorization, but almost no book on the shelves is identifiably introductory.
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Almost...?
deslandes: (Default)
Author: deslandes
The closest thing available is called The Hedge-Witch's Handbook, and it advertises itself as containing only low-risk spells with simple formulations. Compared to the rest, it's also fairly modern and easy to read.
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
Excellent. She sets about reading that one first, notebook open for notetaking.
deslandes: (Default)
Author: deslandes
Low-risk spells are apparently also very small, most of them. A good-luck charm that lasts from one full moon to the next; a selection of curses that do things like make your target's voice loud and annoying, or make them fart constantly, or give them a succession of minor aches and pains for a week; spells that show you various things, like next week's weather or the location of a lost object.

Or a lost person.
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
This book contains many interesting possibilities for starting out with practical magic, but it refers to the steps of each charm in rather opaque terms that Belle doesn't understand. And the helpful notes that are not part of the numbered steps are even more bewildering. "This is a simple spell, but even so, if you have not ordered your mindscape in the last week, it is advised that you tidy it to avoid backlash from distraction"? "This charm is particularly susceptible to the hazards typically associated with an unwilling channel"?

"I don't suppose," says Belle to Beast, "that you know anything about magic yourself? I think these books all assume I have a teacher. There's not a beginner's guide anywhere. Even this one thinks I know what a mindscape and a channel are, and how to tidy the one and fret appropriately about the willingness of the other."
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
He shrugs expressively.

"I've only ever seen one spell cast, and I wasn't thinking about her technique at the time. Mostly I remember... screams of rage. Hers, not mine. Mine came later."
beheld_beauty: (dégoût)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle winces expressively. "Well. Perhaps I can piece it together. It might take me a long time, though."

She switches from reading to skimming, writing a list in her notebook of terms she expects to be important and questions she needs answered.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes




"We don't have forever," he says reluctantly. "Even if the curse somehow makes you immortal too. I have... a few more years, I think. Maybe as much as ten. And then it all becomes permanent. I don't know what the spell will do with you, then. Keep you here, send you away - it could be either one."
beheld_beauty: (nuit)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle blinks.

She skims faster. She sacrifices a little handwriting neatness.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
He just watches her.

There's not much else he can do.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
"You can make some progress with small writing, can't you?" Belle says. "You read what I wrote, I didn't know you had vision issues when I wrote it."
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"Some," he says. "It hurts to do too much of it."
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
Belle pulls out a thin volume in one of the languages she doesn't know and opens it to what looks like it's plausibly an introduction for him. "Stop when your eyes are tired, but I have no idea how long it normally takes to learn to do serious magic, let alone how long it will take working out of books I mostly can't read. If nothing else, we can narrow down which languages I need to learn to adequately read aloud for translations in case nothing in the vernacular has anything to let me make headway."
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
He can hold the book open, if he's careful with his claws. Safely turning pages is quite beyond him. But he doesn't need any pages turned on this one before he says dismissively, "Recipes for fake love potions."
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
She replaces it with another and returns to her own task.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"This one's about something called a Dream-world," he says after a moment. "Do you think a mindscape is the same thing? It also talks about keeping them tidy."
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
"That sounds promising," says Belle, looking up. She's finished her scan of the Hedge-witch book and has moved onto The Discerning Enchanter's Toolkit, which is almost as unhelpful. "What does it say about it?"
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
"There are a few words I don't know," he says, "but the parts I can read say that an enchanter must keep the Dream-world in good order to cast spells safely, and this book is about how to do that."
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Okay. I would like to cast spells safely, so this seems worth focusing on." She scoots over and turns the page. "How is it that I do that?"
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
While she has the book, he rubs the back of one hand across his eyes.

"'The Enchanter closes his eyes,'" he translates, "'and ceases all movement, and thinks only of the Dream-world - the place inside the mind,' I don't know this word, something about magic, and then, 'If he is a true Enchanter he will leave the world of the body and travel in his mind to the Dream-world.' I wonder how you get back."
beheld_beauty: (évaluer)
Author: beheld_beauty
"...Do your eyes hurt?" Belle asks. "I can still make progress, albeit out of order, and you can come back to this later."
deslandes: (⑭ bloodmouth ♌)
Author: deslandes
He nods.
beheld_beauty: (calme)
Author: beheld_beauty
She returns to the Toolkit, skimming and taking notes. Conveniently, it mentions four different styles of entering one's mindscape, twelve chapters in - it doesn't outright instruct the reader on any, but it draws contrasts between the four. Belle pauses there, contemplating.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"Find something?"
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Four styles of entering the mindscape-or-dreamworld," says Belle. "It doesn't give instructions, just talks about how there's the ones who breathe their way there and the ones who follow their heartbeats and the ones who 'make as though to sleep' and the ones who can do it just by wanting. I'm not sure if these are things people are just stuck with based on who they are, or if you can pick one."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
"Do you want to try one?"
beheld_beauty: (les yeux)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Maybe. Did the language in the book you were looking at suggest that entering the dreamworld was inherently dangerous? There are lots of little warning flags all through these books."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
"No..." he says. "Unless that's what the words I didn't know were about."
beheld_beauty: (l'oeil)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Were there a lot of them? Were they clustered or sprinkled through the prose?"
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
"A few. More sprinkled. Some of them repeated."
beheld_beauty: (perspicacité)
Author: beheld_beauty
"And they don't obviously break down into meaningful parts or anything?"
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
"One I think is another name for the Dream-world, or a description of it. The rest, I'm not sure."
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Hmmm."

She peers at the four methods of mindscape visitation again, reads on until the topic changes, rereads that section, and says, "Well, if wanting a better look at my mind could hurt me, I'd be dead already. I really doubt that wanting it with my eyes closed is going to do me any harm."

She moves to a more comfortable chair, finds a pose she won't feel inclined to move from, and shuts her eyes.
deslandes: (⑬ eye of the ♌)
Author: deslandes
Beast watches her curiously.
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
While it is true that Belle makes a habit of wanting a better look at her mind, it's also true that she usually does something else about it - with paper, typically - rather than just indulging sustained wanting.

The sustained wanting isn't particularly special.

To start.

And then she gets inklings of something, like the images that appear behind one's eyelids if one presses on them, but more - familiar.

And then it's harder to feel the chair under her.

And then she can't hear the Beast's breathing, or birdsong outside, or anything but her own heartbeat in her ears and her own breath through her throat.

And finally, as she wants her way forward through all this -

another place fades in, just as slowly as the real place faded out.

She floats, in the center of a sphere of rose-vines, if roses grew on prickly vines. The prickles all face out and the flowers all face in. And the roses are every color, and every petal is patterned intricately.

"Whoa," she says, but the instant she speaks the rosevine sphere is gone and the world is back, with no slow fade-out or fade-in, and she finds her eyes open without meaning to open them.
deslandes: (⑫ a killer's hands ♌)
Author: deslandes
He's still watching.
beheld_beauty: (à gauche)
Author: beheld_beauty
"I got someplace, all right," Belle reports. "It was like a sphere of vines with multicolored roses on the inside - pointing at me, I was in the middle - and thorns pointing out. Apparently I lose it if I talk."
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
"I think that means you're a true Enchanter," he says dryly. "Lucky you. Lucky me."
beheld_beauty: (Default)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Good for me. Belle the Enchantress has a nice ring to it. And, more importantly, could make the forest stop moving." Pause. "I'm going to try that again, see what I can see."
deslandes: (⑩ witchwood ♁)
Author: deslandes
"I'm going to get out of here," he says. "Stretch my legs. See a little sky."
beheld_beauty: (froid)
Author: beheld_beauty
"Have fun," says Belle, and she relaxes into another meditation.

She's at it for much longer this time.

The rosepetals have patterns on them that seem to nest infinitely, fractally - and she can see them just as clearly as she needs to, each level of detail flooding into focus as soon as she needs it. The roses themselves open and close in response to what she's thinking about.

It is really fascinating. She's not sure what tidying she's supposed to do - there's nothing here but metaphorical thought-plants, all quite nicely arranged - but she sticks around for a few hours, anyway, re-meditating her way in when she accidentally moves or makes a sound and calls her mind back into the real world.
deslandes: (⑪ earthly pleasures ♌)
Author: deslandes
Outside, the Beast rolls in rosebushes and chases sparrows.