A/N: You know, I told myself, "Don't write today, you've been writing so
much, you could take a break, you SHOULD take a break." But no, here I am,
less than twelve hours since uploading the last chapter, at my computer,
typing away once more. I was actually planning on waiting a while, to let
the Beast fan mail accumulate, to make a decision. But Chibi Hime and Night
Owl made a good point: we don't know Beast very well, do we? And he is
flat, you are totally right! To be honest, I didn't really want a cute,
nice Beast. Those guys are SO BORING. And, although the angsty ones are
less unique, they're a helluva lot more interesting. Oh, and by the way,
they're reading The Odyssey. So, without further ado, a Beast p.o.v
chapter. Here we go. (Sorry, nothing-brite, but I like my A/N's. It give me
a chance to communicate with you guys. If you don't wanna read them, you
don't have to.)
What the HELL was going on here?! What happened to the plan? How did Crawford talk me into this "new servants will help my work" plot? I could have killed him, if he wasn't so good at cleaning and organizing the library. My mind wasn't ready to admit exactly why he still lived. Though, just maybe, it was how he still stuck around, through all my tantrums and abuse, all the hard nights. I wasn't proud of them, but they certainly showed who your true friends were. I stalked through the darkness, which could have been high noon for all my cat's eyes cared. My tail twitched back and forth as I passed by the bedrooms, dining rooms, bathrooms, and any other kind of room this God-forsaken castle held. I came to the only place that brought me peace now: the library.
I threw open one of the doors and half-sprinted to my favorite chair, way in the corner of the library. I couldn't imagine how she'd found me here. It was so secluded, just below the light of one of the windows. I crashed into the embrace of my chair, that I'd picked myself after the transformation. Well, the one Crawford had told the merchant after I'd told Crawford it was the one I picked. The question still pressed my mind: had Crawford arranged this? How many times had he read The Flight of the Masters? Twelve, on my count. Had he really needed it, so late at night, when he knew I'd be up? Why would he have sent someone he knew to be illiterate? Why would he have sent a WOMAN he knew to be illiterate? And finally: what was she doing to me? Every time I was around her, it was like my entire being was flipped backwards. It was really quite the toss-up if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
But still, what was it about her? She was just a girl, I'd seen girls before. I'd seen her before, wiping banisters and making beds that were never slept in. I'd been sure to keep to the shadows, I didn't want to alarm her. But, then, last night, she hadn't seemed alarmed. Nope, surprised maybe, not even very embarrassed to have been spotted. She'd just stared at me, with those eyes of hers. Christ, they'd been large, and brown, and deep. And those tight, red-brown-gold curls in her hair. Not to mention the smell of her, like flowers and floor wax. A clean forest. Knock it off, beast boy, my mind stopped that train of thought with a simple disgusted mutter. That very mind-voice was what had sent me off into the dark after I'd taken her back to the servants' quarters, and led me to stew here. Damn Crawford, for bringing her here to mess with my carefully fitted life. It wasn't easy being the beast lord, living in this dark, dank castle, but I did it, every damn day I kept at it. I stayed holed up in my castle, allowing the untrue rumors to fester and grow throughout the village.
But the thing that scared me most about my double personality around Sasha, what a great name, STOP IT, was the fact that someday I would snap. Something she'd say, something I'D say, something would set me off. Then she'd see me for what I truly was, the dyed in the wool beast I'd become. What would happen then? Would she run for her life, out of the castle, away from me? Or worse, could something happen so bad I'd kill her? The thought sickened me. I hadn't killed a human, yet. I hunted for myself, no sense putting good claws and keen senses to waste. Plus, it kept the others fed. And, one or twice, I'd put a scare in travelers along the road, just for fun. But I'd never hurt them intentionally. Even in my strongest tantrums I hadn't attacked Crawford, at least with intent to kill. Maybe I was fooling myself to think I could actually kill another person. I hoped that was true, for Sasha's sake. My nose twitched suddenly, I had a yet another visitor, surprise, surprise.
"Go to bed, Crawford," I growled the warning, but he didn't go. No, it wasn't in him. He sat down where Sasha had been sitting not ten minutes before, boring twin holes into me with her eyes, as I'd read.
"How'd the first lesson go?" he asked, settling into the chair comfortably. Why did I allow him to treat me with such disrespect?
"Just fine, Crawford. She's a bright girl who truly wants to read." No point holding back now, he wasn't going anywhere.
"I figured as much. I could see it in her eyes while she cleaned, the envious way she regarded the books." I looked at him, now was the time to ask.
"Crawford, did you set this whole thing up? In hopes that she-" I didn't bother finishing the sentence.
"I can't say the notion didn't cross my mind," he replied, "I thought I wanted the book, but maybe my subconscious had other plans." Damn him and his half confessions! Without putting the blame on anyone else, he'd cleared himself of my wrath. I looked away, head down.
"Don't tell me," he continued, his voice strangely resembling indignant anger as he sat forward, "that you didn't enjoy yourself, teaching Sasha to read. I refuse to believe you had not the least bit of fun around her. You two are so much alike it's impossible for you to not get along at least a little bi-"
"Yes! All right?" God, his persistence was irritating, "She's a nice girl."
"And?"
"Aaaannnd," I groaned excessively, "I appreciated the way she didn't run in terror at the first sight of me."
"Good enough." Crawford sat back again in his chair, briefly satisfied, "Yanking an emotion out of you other than anger and self-pity is harder than pulling teeth out of an elephant."
"Well," I grumbled, "Congratulations on another job well done."
"Thank you," he replied, nodding his head in as much of a mock bow as could be accomplished while sitting, "So, another lesson for tomorrow night?"
"Of course," I snapped at him, "She wants to learn to read. And if I'm the only one fit to teach her than so be it. I'll have to get over my hang ups on my own."
"Glad to hear it, Derrick." I cringed at the name. I hated it for the memories it brought. From my childhood, right up to the moment the curse was put upon me. My family, my friends, that is, the friends of my childhood. I looked back at the young, ridiculously stupid and callous ruler I'd allowed myself to become and was not shocked one tiny bit by the consequences I now suffered with. Albeit this was a rather unique situation, it would have happened anyway, figuratively or literally.
"Go to bed, Crawford," I said once more. He rose, obediently for once. Maybe I didn't deserve obedience from him.
"Don't do it, Derrick," he said. He could read me way too well, "Don't fall into some piteous shame spiral. I can see it coming a mile away, and I'll tell you once and once only, don't do it. It's not good for you, or anyone else in this castle." He left silently. He was right, absolutely right, there was no denying it. Well, I thought, rising from my chair, there's no way to escape a shame spiral like hunting.
I breathed in and out in the night air, enjoying the myriad of smells, sights, and sounds that combined in my sensitive head, to paint a picture I could have seen had I been blind, deaf, or, hm, nose-less (A/N: Why isn't there a word for that??). Dead leaves all around I could smell, a stream three, maybe four yards away I could hear, and a fox's den with at least two cubs roughhousing inside I could see. Their mother must be hunting as well.
I remembered the first time I'd left the castle after the transformation. It had taken me nearly half a year to come to terms with my new body, the tail, the claws. But when I'd stepped into the forest, I was nearly happy again. I thought, maybe the fairy had made a mistake, had gifted me with this hunter's body instead of cursed me. I now sprinted through the woods on my powerful legs, sometimes running on all fours because even that was comfortable now. My nose picked out a fat wild pig in the distance, my eyes zeroed in on it. All thought of Crawford, and the library, and even the memories, though not quite everything of Sasha drifted away. For some reason, thinking of her only gave me more energy for the hunt. I wasn't thinking with my head anymore, which was a good thing, because I never truly enjoyed hunting as a human. But now, ah, the rush of it! Never the best shot with a bow and arrow, my claws had deadly accuracy, without even trying!
As I got within shouting distance of the pig, I slowed to a crawl, lulling it into a false sense of security. Ah, noble pig, how little you know. I was large, as far as predators go, but my stalking skills suffered little for my size. I was as silent as a breeze, not breaking a twig as I crouched on all fours, not twelve feet from the grazing pig. I could see the fur on its back ruffle as it caught the wind, smell it's breath as the breeze came down to me. I felt sorry for the mother fox, SHE would never be able to enjoy the hunt like this. I felt sorry for human hunters, THEY would never be able to enjoy the hunt like this. I stayed crouched, waiting for the right moment.
NOW! I sprang from my hiding place, the pig in my teeth before it could let out a sound. One swift jerk, and the pig's suffering was over. Ah, yup, nothing like hunting to escape a shame spiral, my mind chuckled jovially as I trotted back to the castle, pig slung over my shoulder.
A/N: There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: Beast! If you're wondering, the name Derrick will not be sticking around, I just felt that if anyone should know what his name is, it'd be Crawford. Oh, and sorry if some of you like Beast all cute and cuddly. If any of you do feel that way, STOP READING. It's as simple as that. Don't clutter up my review spot with flames, unless you get the overwhelming urge to demolish the self-esteem of a fellow human being. In that case, please don't sign it, so I can remove it at my leisure. Oh, by the way, Chien, if you want some more reviews, sign your reviews for True Beauty, I'll click on your name, and then I'll be able to read your stuff. Trust me, for being my very first total- stranger reviewer, not to mention those reviews being so GLEAMINGLY NICE, you can trust there'll be a review from me. K? Thanks to all you freaks out there for not ditching my story! ^^
What the HELL was going on here?! What happened to the plan? How did Crawford talk me into this "new servants will help my work" plot? I could have killed him, if he wasn't so good at cleaning and organizing the library. My mind wasn't ready to admit exactly why he still lived. Though, just maybe, it was how he still stuck around, through all my tantrums and abuse, all the hard nights. I wasn't proud of them, but they certainly showed who your true friends were. I stalked through the darkness, which could have been high noon for all my cat's eyes cared. My tail twitched back and forth as I passed by the bedrooms, dining rooms, bathrooms, and any other kind of room this God-forsaken castle held. I came to the only place that brought me peace now: the library.
I threw open one of the doors and half-sprinted to my favorite chair, way in the corner of the library. I couldn't imagine how she'd found me here. It was so secluded, just below the light of one of the windows. I crashed into the embrace of my chair, that I'd picked myself after the transformation. Well, the one Crawford had told the merchant after I'd told Crawford it was the one I picked. The question still pressed my mind: had Crawford arranged this? How many times had he read The Flight of the Masters? Twelve, on my count. Had he really needed it, so late at night, when he knew I'd be up? Why would he have sent someone he knew to be illiterate? Why would he have sent a WOMAN he knew to be illiterate? And finally: what was she doing to me? Every time I was around her, it was like my entire being was flipped backwards. It was really quite the toss-up if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
But still, what was it about her? She was just a girl, I'd seen girls before. I'd seen her before, wiping banisters and making beds that were never slept in. I'd been sure to keep to the shadows, I didn't want to alarm her. But, then, last night, she hadn't seemed alarmed. Nope, surprised maybe, not even very embarrassed to have been spotted. She'd just stared at me, with those eyes of hers. Christ, they'd been large, and brown, and deep. And those tight, red-brown-gold curls in her hair. Not to mention the smell of her, like flowers and floor wax. A clean forest. Knock it off, beast boy, my mind stopped that train of thought with a simple disgusted mutter. That very mind-voice was what had sent me off into the dark after I'd taken her back to the servants' quarters, and led me to stew here. Damn Crawford, for bringing her here to mess with my carefully fitted life. It wasn't easy being the beast lord, living in this dark, dank castle, but I did it, every damn day I kept at it. I stayed holed up in my castle, allowing the untrue rumors to fester and grow throughout the village.
But the thing that scared me most about my double personality around Sasha, what a great name, STOP IT, was the fact that someday I would snap. Something she'd say, something I'D say, something would set me off. Then she'd see me for what I truly was, the dyed in the wool beast I'd become. What would happen then? Would she run for her life, out of the castle, away from me? Or worse, could something happen so bad I'd kill her? The thought sickened me. I hadn't killed a human, yet. I hunted for myself, no sense putting good claws and keen senses to waste. Plus, it kept the others fed. And, one or twice, I'd put a scare in travelers along the road, just for fun. But I'd never hurt them intentionally. Even in my strongest tantrums I hadn't attacked Crawford, at least with intent to kill. Maybe I was fooling myself to think I could actually kill another person. I hoped that was true, for Sasha's sake. My nose twitched suddenly, I had a yet another visitor, surprise, surprise.
"Go to bed, Crawford," I growled the warning, but he didn't go. No, it wasn't in him. He sat down where Sasha had been sitting not ten minutes before, boring twin holes into me with her eyes, as I'd read.
"How'd the first lesson go?" he asked, settling into the chair comfortably. Why did I allow him to treat me with such disrespect?
"Just fine, Crawford. She's a bright girl who truly wants to read." No point holding back now, he wasn't going anywhere.
"I figured as much. I could see it in her eyes while she cleaned, the envious way she regarded the books." I looked at him, now was the time to ask.
"Crawford, did you set this whole thing up? In hopes that she-" I didn't bother finishing the sentence.
"I can't say the notion didn't cross my mind," he replied, "I thought I wanted the book, but maybe my subconscious had other plans." Damn him and his half confessions! Without putting the blame on anyone else, he'd cleared himself of my wrath. I looked away, head down.
"Don't tell me," he continued, his voice strangely resembling indignant anger as he sat forward, "that you didn't enjoy yourself, teaching Sasha to read. I refuse to believe you had not the least bit of fun around her. You two are so much alike it's impossible for you to not get along at least a little bi-"
"Yes! All right?" God, his persistence was irritating, "She's a nice girl."
"And?"
"Aaaannnd," I groaned excessively, "I appreciated the way she didn't run in terror at the first sight of me."
"Good enough." Crawford sat back again in his chair, briefly satisfied, "Yanking an emotion out of you other than anger and self-pity is harder than pulling teeth out of an elephant."
"Well," I grumbled, "Congratulations on another job well done."
"Thank you," he replied, nodding his head in as much of a mock bow as could be accomplished while sitting, "So, another lesson for tomorrow night?"
"Of course," I snapped at him, "She wants to learn to read. And if I'm the only one fit to teach her than so be it. I'll have to get over my hang ups on my own."
"Glad to hear it, Derrick." I cringed at the name. I hated it for the memories it brought. From my childhood, right up to the moment the curse was put upon me. My family, my friends, that is, the friends of my childhood. I looked back at the young, ridiculously stupid and callous ruler I'd allowed myself to become and was not shocked one tiny bit by the consequences I now suffered with. Albeit this was a rather unique situation, it would have happened anyway, figuratively or literally.
"Go to bed, Crawford," I said once more. He rose, obediently for once. Maybe I didn't deserve obedience from him.
"Don't do it, Derrick," he said. He could read me way too well, "Don't fall into some piteous shame spiral. I can see it coming a mile away, and I'll tell you once and once only, don't do it. It's not good for you, or anyone else in this castle." He left silently. He was right, absolutely right, there was no denying it. Well, I thought, rising from my chair, there's no way to escape a shame spiral like hunting.
I breathed in and out in the night air, enjoying the myriad of smells, sights, and sounds that combined in my sensitive head, to paint a picture I could have seen had I been blind, deaf, or, hm, nose-less (A/N: Why isn't there a word for that??). Dead leaves all around I could smell, a stream three, maybe four yards away I could hear, and a fox's den with at least two cubs roughhousing inside I could see. Their mother must be hunting as well.
I remembered the first time I'd left the castle after the transformation. It had taken me nearly half a year to come to terms with my new body, the tail, the claws. But when I'd stepped into the forest, I was nearly happy again. I thought, maybe the fairy had made a mistake, had gifted me with this hunter's body instead of cursed me. I now sprinted through the woods on my powerful legs, sometimes running on all fours because even that was comfortable now. My nose picked out a fat wild pig in the distance, my eyes zeroed in on it. All thought of Crawford, and the library, and even the memories, though not quite everything of Sasha drifted away. For some reason, thinking of her only gave me more energy for the hunt. I wasn't thinking with my head anymore, which was a good thing, because I never truly enjoyed hunting as a human. But now, ah, the rush of it! Never the best shot with a bow and arrow, my claws had deadly accuracy, without even trying!
As I got within shouting distance of the pig, I slowed to a crawl, lulling it into a false sense of security. Ah, noble pig, how little you know. I was large, as far as predators go, but my stalking skills suffered little for my size. I was as silent as a breeze, not breaking a twig as I crouched on all fours, not twelve feet from the grazing pig. I could see the fur on its back ruffle as it caught the wind, smell it's breath as the breeze came down to me. I felt sorry for the mother fox, SHE would never be able to enjoy the hunt like this. I felt sorry for human hunters, THEY would never be able to enjoy the hunt like this. I stayed crouched, waiting for the right moment.
NOW! I sprang from my hiding place, the pig in my teeth before it could let out a sound. One swift jerk, and the pig's suffering was over. Ah, yup, nothing like hunting to escape a shame spiral, my mind chuckled jovially as I trotted back to the castle, pig slung over my shoulder.
A/N: There you have it, ladies and gentlemen: Beast! If you're wondering, the name Derrick will not be sticking around, I just felt that if anyone should know what his name is, it'd be Crawford. Oh, and sorry if some of you like Beast all cute and cuddly. If any of you do feel that way, STOP READING. It's as simple as that. Don't clutter up my review spot with flames, unless you get the overwhelming urge to demolish the self-esteem of a fellow human being. In that case, please don't sign it, so I can remove it at my leisure. Oh, by the way, Chien, if you want some more reviews, sign your reviews for True Beauty, I'll click on your name, and then I'll be able to read your stuff. Trust me, for being my very first total- stranger reviewer, not to mention those reviews being so GLEAMINGLY NICE, you can trust there'll be a review from me. K? Thanks to all you freaks out there for not ditching my story! ^^
