Tale - Tumblr Posts
I just read a tale about Dr. Cimmerian and now I am sad and in my feelings... what a way to start my day. Oof...
On the Subject of "All-Kinds-of-Fur:"
Link to the original Brothers Grimm fairy tale for reference. It's basically a variant of "Cinderella."
Also, if I have the inspiration for it, this could become part of a series, set during the peaceful days before the prequel events. Thus, if anyone would like to send in a request for the School Master brothers' reactions to a classic fairy tale or an SGE one, however obscure it may be, I might write it!
⸻
[Rhian enters the tower chamber looking distressed while Rafal is grading fourth-year students' theses on treachery, taboos, and the natural lines of family, that, when wrongly crossed, drive people insane and disrupt the fragile human psyche.
For an example of this so-called phenomenon (stolen from the plot of Hamlet), imagine a scenario as follows: a wife marries her husband's brother after her husband dies. While they may not be blood relations, this scenario is still off and rather strange, even if modern times could make more allowances for such a thing to occur and be socially-acceptable.]
Rhian: My fourth-year Class Captain had to run away whilst on her questing assignment!
Rafal: [absently, without looking up from the papers, slashing through lines in bloodred ink] Mm, shame. [He sips his tea.]
Rhian: [tries to smile but it looks uneasy and he begins to pace with anxiety.] No! It's... good... I suppose. [He cringes.] If she hadn't run into the Woods last night, she would've had to marry her father!
Rafal: [spits out his tea.] Who's her father? Not one of my graduates, surely. Even my curriculum standards rise above that, that rot.
Rhian: No, it's not one of yours. Simply some brazen king. I just... I wish I could do something. She was one of my best students. [He sighs dejectedly.] But I doubt the Pen will tolerate an intervention. We just have to let her tale play out.
Rafal: Well, is it worth working yourself up over? She got away. Maybe it's you who's too invested in your students’ lives. They can fend for themselves, you know... well, probably. Actually, some Evergirls can be dimwitted. [He pauses.] How about this?: you always have the option of throwing her a lovely funeral.
Rhian: Oh, forget it. I don’t expect you to understand. [He throws up his arms, flustered, and exits the room.]
[Rafal observes that his brother still looks rather sad. In fact, Rhian grows more worried with each passing day as the Storian writes of the poor girl's travails as a forlorn scullery maid in hiding.]
⸻
[Several months later, three days and three nights after each night of the ball and banquet in the Evergirl's fairy tale:]
Rhian: [elatedly, swelling with hope] Rafal! Rafal! Have you heard? My Class Captain might live to see her Happily Ever After! The young king is going to save her! She’s danced with him three nights in a row and he would take no other partner. Though, each night, she slips away and conceals herself in that hideous, asymmetrical coat. You've seen the Pen's illustrations, haven't you? And last night, she wore a dress that glistened like the stars! I just knew the Beautification Practice While Impoverished classroom simulations would pay off! I knew it! It's the sheer magic of what a little soap and water can achieve!
Rafal: [not listening to Rhian's enthusiastic raving] Uh-huh.
Rhian: [finally looks at Rafal more closely after his lackluster response.] Say, Rafal? Where did that patchwork blanket come from? Is it new? I feel like I’ve seen it before. Somewhere... [he muses.]
Rafal: [shrugs without looking up from his book.] Nowhere. You’re not still… sad about that tale, are you? It’s old news. And the Storian's been still about that tale for a good few hours. Maybe it'll be scrapped, storybook and all.
Rhian: [grits his teeth in frustration] Yes. I know. You weren't listening.
Rafal: [expressionlessly] Wasn't I? Regardless, Happily Ever Afters don't concern me.
Rhian: [tongue-tied, attempting to come up with a fitting retort] An-and, you need a good douse of soap and water too. You've got... soot and—is that walnut oil all over your hands?
Rafal: [rolls his eyes.]
⸻
[The next day:]
[Rhian devours the completed tale in one sitting and notices a discrepancy he assumes is a continuity error by the Storian: the vagabond princess disguised in the role of a scullery maid returned to her little cubbyhole below stairs to find that her coat, which she’d left in the shadows, had disappeared, seemingly stolen.
Perhaps, a creature of the night had made off with it, desperate to reclaim its skin.
Or perhaps, there had been an intervention.
Thus, the princess was forced to show her true, shining self to the king’s men hunting her down. In her gown, that gleamed like the stars, much like a bride's.
And Rhian has a feeling he knows why this Ending came to be.]
⸻
[A week later:]
Rhian: [enters, humming about wedding bells to himself.]
Rafal: You look well. Did something go right?
Rhian: Yes! Something nice came in the post today, brother. My former student and the young, foreign king have invited us to their wedding. And look! Even you got an invitation, too. [He laughs to himself and makes a face of mock fright, lowering his voice and gnarling his hands into claws.] Whooo, they probably didn't want the Evil brother to curse them during a christening someday, so you'll probably get a golden plate and sweetmeats to spare at the wedding feast in order to "appease" you.
Rafal: [glares at him.]
Rhian: [drops the act.] Ahem. Anyway, we’ve got to pack for spring in Altazarra. Bring some non-black, festive clothes, if you have any. Oh, and bring a less ugly coat than that scruffy old blanket, will you?
Rafal: I’m not attending. I don’t like inane balls or sentimental Ever Afters, but have fun.
Rhian: Are you sure about that?
Rafal: Positively.
Rhian: [holds up an illustration of the princess' cubbyhole from the tale he’s been scrutinizing for the last few days.] Then what’s this shadow the Storian’s inked in darker than the rest? It looks quite a lot like a human form.
Rafal: Trick of the light. Just be glad Evil didn’t prevail this time, and call it a day. My side will win next time to be sure.
Rhian: [smirks knowingly] I guess I owe my peace of mind and sanity to a thief then.
Rafal: [deadpans] Run along, Ever. Pip-pip. You've got a wedding to attend, have you not?
A NEW BOOK:) "Le due bambine" di Domenico Brancale , accompagnato dalle mie illustrazioni ed edito da Blu Gallery e libreria Modo (Bologna:) Per ora lo trovate a Milano presso libreria Spazio Bk, a Bologna presso Libreria Modo / Blu Gallery e a Bari da Spine bookstore, da metà settembre sarà distribuito in tante altre librerie:)
http://virginiamori.tumblr.com/shop
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Ink!Sans belong to the great @comyet .
Petit désastre ambulant est heureux :)
SPLASH!
Ink!Sans belong to the great @comyet .
Tee-hee
(Dream belong to Jokublog
Swap belong to p0pc0rnpr1nce)
Inktobertale is coming, the guy is running of impatience.
Ink!Sans belong to the great @comyet .
Hi, it's Lalone.
For this one I took 3 hours. And I'm goddamn proud. It was funny and interesting to do because I tried to mix my style with Comyet's, and the result is stunning (to me).
Last thing. Sorry if I don't post a lot recently: I have a life. A life that suck, yes, but still a life. I'll try to post a bit more, but I can't promise motivation will be there.
Have a good day, it's 2am in France, I have school early, and I don't have an end to this sentence so goodnight for me. Thanks me. Of course me.
Thank you for reading, Lalone.
A solar eclipse (right) happens when the moon gets in the way of the sun’s light and casts its shadow on Earth. During a lunar eclipse (left), Earth gets in the way of the sun’s light hitting the moon.
HEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU DID NOT-
day 44! in light of recent events
inspired by these two!! ☆ ☆
The old German tale says:
In the very beginning of all times, Snow longed for a colour to be whole. In its adoration of all the flowers' coulours, it aspired one of them would share their own colour with the Snow. However, the flowers too proud, finding the Snow cold and harsh, did not like it to be the same colour as themself. After all the failed search, the disappointed Snow was at last seen by a little humble flower. Her hope and sympathy gifted the Snow its significant white colour and in return the Snow swore a place and no harm of its sharp crystals to the kind maiden. Ever since, the Snow and the Snowdrop in their grace, together bring a new beginning.
❄️ pictures are my own, please, don't use without credit
It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day, the sky was clear and serene, and Nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild-ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
Washington Irving, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
❄My version of The Snow Queen from Hans Christian Andersen
Inktobertale Day 2: Where it all began
moments before disaster:
ink belongs to comyet/myebi