divinetree | "Crazy" Beauty and the "Hunter" Beast

"Crazy" Beauty and the "Hunter" Beast

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a cruel Prince lived in a shining castle surrounded by rich hunting lands.
Although he had everything his heart desired, the Prince was paranoid, selfish, and cruel.

But then, one winter's night, an old beggar-woman came to the castle, and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

None know for sure what happened that night. Some say the Prince turned her away for her appearance, and others claim he attempted to harm her... the beggar-woman melted away her disguise to reveal a beautiful Enchantress.

As punishment for his loveless heart and vicious cruelty, the Enchantress transformed him into a hideous Beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there.

Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 30th year. If he could learn to love another, and earn their love in return, by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.

As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a Beast?

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Lucifer's frown deepened. Even if he did run, Alastor was a prince... monster... thing, while he was only a man. How far in the forest could he go before he was caught and killed? He wasn't seeing how this was equal, here.

The weight of that gold in his lap was very, very real. Judging by the feel of it, he and Charlie could stop counting every coin before trips to the market and even splurge in the bookstores, even cut her loose for some new clothes rather than peer into the windows with longing; there was enough to have the cart repaired. There may even be enough left over to get a brand new set of shoes for Gershwin for any future trips into the cobbled towns that always felt uncomfortable beneath his hooves.

He was strongly tempted to take that Deal, but the word 'sorcerer' meant magic.

"I've read my fair share of stories involving deals with devils. Rather unfortunate that you have those great big antlers, isn't it...?" He set his tea aside.

The village always called him crazy. Perhaps he'll consider a little madness today.

"However... If you are indeed different from the devils of lore, then define your terms."

"Of course, of course, how silly of me," Alastor chuckled, gesticulating dramatically - despite his hulking size and the weight of his hooves shaking the floor, he waggled his hips and tilted his head with all the animated energy of a man Lucifer's size. "Devils have goat horns, don't they? If such a thing even exists, haha! However much this little abode is my Hell, dear man, I am its prisoner and not its keeper."

The hand extended again, almost pushy.

"I will give you the wealth and means from my grounds as you need for your projects, and in return, you will come to my lands and show me every single test performed! Do we have a Deal?"

This was a more open area for testing, and with funding like this, he could get more metals, the oils, everything he could ever need to continue working and improving...

...Even if the prince would laugh at him, that shouldn't mean he should ever stop trying.

Lucifer took a breath, and accepted that hand with a firm grip. "...Deal."

A sickening green magic wound and engulfed them, tying them together in this Deal - one to seal it and make him beholden to the terms. But as quickly as it flashed, it vanished, leaving only the unsettling feeling of being touched by magic behind.

"Perfect!" the Prince laughed. This was a MUCH more interesting turn of events than simply adding fresh meat to his plate tonight! "Now! Don't get bold hiring anyone to come storm my castle - that won't end happily for anyone except me, dear boy. Much more preferable if your wacky dream comes true, don't you think? No shot of that if you end things too early, hah hah!"

Whoa. That... that felt strange. This was a Deal with some sort of supernatural creature, then? But he wasn't a devil, so that should be... fine?

Lucifer blinked a bit slowly, still reeling a little by the effect and the lingering sensation. He even touched his chest a little, as if to feel for something. But Alastor said something weird, and-

"Huh?" He was a paranoid sort, wasn't he?

"I dunno what year you think it is, but people nowadays tend not to murder their investors." He opened the sack then, and looked inside, retrieved a coin and turned it over in his palm.

He sighed his relief and his expression softened. "...Especially now that I can stop sewing patches on Charlie's clothes. She says it's alright, but... she deserves to wear much nicer thi-"

Lucifer paused. Cleared his throat.

"...Erh, sorry. I have a daughter at home. Charlotte."

"A daughter, hmm? Interesting," Alastor remarked, studying Lucifer a moment longer. What exactly was so interesting about that, he wouldn't say. The Prince looked over at another shape in the shadows - a coat rack - and snapped at it. "You! Guide this fellow's horse into our stables. It'll get cold tonight, put a blanket on the thing. And you, Niffty darling, get a room ready for our guest, will you?"

The excited little feather duster just giggled, fluttering away excitedly.

"Afraid you'll be a bit behind schedule, but once the sun is down, surely the woods will eat you alive! Best to rest instead."

He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. "...I was afraid of that. If I could somehow send word to Charlie, assure her I'm safe, then it shouldn't be too much of a problem...?"

Well, since the prince was shouting at the coat rack- "Ah- Gershwin is a good boy! Just take it slow with him- he's had experience with most everything but might draw the line at, ah, moving furniture."

Lucifer blinked, tucked the coin away and finally looked to the tea set. The chair.

"How, uhm... how much of this place is alive?"

"Yes, well, unfortunately our carrier pigeons were turned into the majority of our drinkwear. Damned things always had such a FUSS about no longer being able to fly, only a few even remain by now," Alastor rolled his eyes, shrugging - if Lucifer inspected the cart again, he would see the small pitcher to pour cream was painted like a bird, the 'lip' of the pitcher where a beak would be.

The chair seemed still, but perhaps it could move as well... the matching one nearby seemed to squat its legs as Alastor sat in it, crossing his own gargantuan cervine legs over the other as he relaxed into the chair.

"The sorceress thought herself very funny to curse the whole of the castle and its lands. Staff and animals to furniture, and even some furniture gaining unexpected life all on its own! Sloppy, if you ask me."

Yeap, he suuure was pouring cream from a poor bird. He had a little trouble swallowing the rest of his tea, then. He did set the tea cup much, much more gently this time than before.

Lucifer blinked, then crinkled his brow. "But... what for? To what end does some magic woman decide that everyone here needs to be turned to objects? I mean, the carrier pigeons???"

"Yes, well. She'd come to test someone whom she had assumed was some helpless orphaned Prince. She likely came around assuming she would fool me into underestimating her based on appearance, arriving as some haggard old woman," Alastor shrugged.

"But I am not a fool, nor was I when I was a child, no matter what she thought she knew of me based on reputation alone."

He only continued to stare in confusion. "Did you... pick a fight with a magic-wielding fae creature as a child?"

He just needed to be sure he had that right.

"She came to my doorstep! Hah."

"So she..." He walked his fingers onto his open hand. "Strolled up to the castle to mess with you, got what she wanted, and..."

He gestured. "All this happened?"

"If you must know, I accused her of being the reason my mother died. She never ended up denying it, even to the bitter end!"

"...'Bitter end'??" He was leaning forward in his chair.

"Of course! The fae consider themselves so wily, but even a CHILD can outsmart them. Twisted her into a game, claimed her magic, and killed her!"

Alastor cackled, proudly, sighing as if reminiscing.

"A bit of iron from a horseshoe nail driven right through the temple did the trick perfectly. Don't let the damn things beguile you, either, you seem far too interesting and they adore such things."

Mouth slightly agape, he was just short of spellbound. Talk of killing the sorceress didn't seem to phase him.

But he broke the spell with the quick shake of his head, and swept his fingers through his hair as he was just... processing.

"I've read practically every book I could get my hands on, including mythology. Boy... Charlie would flip if she ever heard that this sort of thing's been real this whole time."

Lucifer creased a brow as he recalled something else. "But if it's a curse on the land, that... that explains why I've never heard of a Prince Alastor, or knew of a castle in the region."

He rubbed his chin. "...And why the routes all switched up, after I'd taken those roads for years and know them like the back of my hands..."

"Hmm, now that is problematic... my lands don't beckon people in, typically, an old trail is found and they follow out of curiosity or out of a desire to find some silly old fable they can't seem to find other people recalling."

There was a reason he asked if Lucifer came to gawk or hunt 'the beast', after all.

"These days those sorts all come in quite fat and healthy! The world must be doing well for itself beyond the borders."

Beckoned... was he beckoned somehow? Particular trails looked less dangerous and he opted for those rather than risking bumping into a pack of hungry wolves.

"They must be from the towns and cities to the east, then. Not long ago, the people there managed to forge a trade deal with the gemstone miners and merchants from the far north. They get pretty things that sparkle and shine to set into fine jewelry to sell across the sea, and the northerners get all the grain, produce and toasty-warm wool they could ever need to survive up there to keep diggin'. Ton of folks moved east when the going was good, but not everybody. Now it's just too expensive to find a foothold, but I was hoping something I'd made would be the ticket to some comfortable living for me and my daughter. We live modestly, certainly, but the winters do get rather harsh."

"Lucky indeed that you now have a good arrangement, able to provide meals instead of becoming one! Hah hah."

Though that does have Alastor pondering - it'd been around a decade since his estate held any power, and it sounds as though the hunting woods being lost was compensated for by the boost to trade and mining for the eastward settlements... but those to the west and the south have to travel to trade at best, and while the castle was in a defensible position, it wasn't completely removed from the routes between them.

Alastor remembered distinctly being able to peer at the edge of his cursed territory, unable to will himself to step further and beyond the bounds, after all.

"Being bold enough to attempt to invent in such a circumstance - you are intriguing."

"You'd be the first to say that!" He laughed awkwardly.

"I'm still working on a compound to possibly sell up north to aid in the blasting for the mining operations. Sulfur, charcoal and saltpeter is greatly rising in price, and you need so much gunpowder to engage in such operations, so I wanted to try and make an alternative. Problem is, it's a little... volatile. I swear, you could give the stuff so much as a nasty look, and..."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that took a bit of a breather in exchange for a flying machine. ...And my neighbors wouldn't stop banging down my door complaining about the noises coming from the cellar."

The way Lucifer is 'intriguing' may also not be much of a compliment... but time will only tell.

"Well, well. That won't be a fuss here - I won't allow for complaints on my new favorite entertainment," Alastor smirked. "It gets so dreadfully quiet that a few explosions and some screaming ought to bring a bit more life to it."

"...Yoooouuuu... don't want me to test explosives here, haha! Trust me. I'd mess up all your pretty things! But the thought's appreciated."

He clapped his hands together.

"But! While there's still a little daylight left, I can show I'm good on my end of the bargain by showing what I've got so far...? It's all disassembled in the cart for easy transport with my tools, but I've got the schematics drawn up that I'd be happy to show off."

"Certainly! Let's have at it, then, let's see what your twisted little mind has come up with!"

Alastor stood, offering a claw for his guest to take. Polite, manners, of course - pay little heed to the way the castle is mostly alive, and feels almost as though it's watching in dreadful anticipation.

"You won't think it's twisted when I pull this off, damn it!"

He was up like a shot. He was almost like a kid with the way he sprinted straight for the door, grabbed the handle and skittered his shoes against the floor as he tried to wrench it open.

It took him a second. Then he was gone.

Give him maybe three minutes as he went to find where his cart went, but he would be dutiful in his return, sweat dotting his brow and clutching a rolled up sheet of paper. He skidded to a stop in the parlor, but needed to pause and bring his hands to his knees and catch his breath...

"Okay... okay..." DEEP BREATH, and he stood upright.

"Gentleman! Cursed objects! I present... my current life's work!" With a flourish, he unrolled the paper over the table and gave the edges a fond pat. Covered in small eraser marks and edits were schematics of four wings and the canard around a platform for the pilot to lie in.

"Presently, I'm capable of very short glides in fair weather for as long as it can be pulled. I have control of the three axis for turns, pitch and yaw to compensate during the pulling."

He slowly paced. "I've tried sliding off the roof of my cottage three times to see about maneuvering without a pulling force, but I have since been banned from doing that any further by my daughter. ...And a bruised and battered body that laid me low for weeks from the very sloppy impact with dear old Earth."

A small cough.

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