#all-kinds-of-fur

[liketwoswansinbalance]

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?

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Do you have any favorite regional differences in one myth? Or any fave regional differences in creatures (eg. The different ways to become a werewolf based on where and when you are)

Comparing similar folklore from region to region is always great! But I think my favourite at the moment is the one I discovered most recently, namely the Sicilian version of what most people know as the Grimms' All-Kinds-of-Fur.

In the Grimms' version a princess escapes from having to marry her father (because she is the only one as beautiful as her late mother), by disguising herself in a cloak made of a thousand kinds of fur. She is found by a king who thinks she is an animal, when it turns out she is taken to the palace as a lowly servant. One day she takes of her furry cloak and dresses as a princess again, to go to the king's banquet. He instantly falls in love with her and after two more banquets manages to discover All-Kinds-of-Fur and the beautiful princess are one and the same.

Now the version of this story I fell in love with as a kid is the adaptation in Jim Henson's The Storyteller: Sapsorrow/Straggletag, where they make the relationship between the young King and Straggletag more equal by letting them talk extensively while she's in her disguise and scold him for his pride and vanity. He does not win her until he has proven he respects Straggletag as well as the princess she secretly is.

So imagine my joy when I read a variant of this tale type called Betta Pilusa in Zipes' translation of Laura Gonzenbach's Sicilian Fairy Tales and it goes like this:

After going through the usual method of trying to delay a marriage to her father (asking for three impossibly beautiful, expensive dresses) this young lady (not a princess) asks for a dress made of grey cat fur and escapes to a forest.

A young king goes hunting there and almost shoots her, until she reveals she is not an animal. He asks her name, she says its Betta Pilusa (translated as Hairy Bertha). He asks her if she wants to come to the castle. She says yes, as his maid. He asks where he wants to live, she says in the chicken coop.

The king visits her at the chicken coop every day to talk to her and bring her treats.

He asks if she want to come to the royal ball, but Betta Pilusa grumbles at him that she could never go. Of course she does go, dressed in her first gown, but disappears before the king can stop her.

The first thing the king does is going to tell Betta Pilusa about the mysterious lady and she scolds him for waking her up.

This happens three more times. With the king inviting Betta Pilusa each time and her grumbling and growling at him and then scolding him when he confides in her about how in love he is.

Finally the king is so lovesick that Betta Pilusa bakes bread for him, every time hiding a golden trinket inside it which the king had given to the mysterious lady at the ball.

The cook reveals to the king that it was Betta Pilusa who baked his bread and he finally confronts her and declares that she is the mysterious lady.

Betta Pilusa denies everything and they argue until he resorts to threatening her with almost comical theatricality, after which she dramatically throws off her catskin gown and falls into his arms.

They get married and live happily ever after.

No recap would do it justice, but Betta is so feral (also in her interactions with other servants) and the young king is so honestly interested in her. It's so fun and I'm here for it.

[princesssarisa]

I like adaptations of Cinderella or Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur that draw on the oral tradition of the heroine giving the Prince a riddle about her identity, based on their earlier meetings when she was in her rags. But which don't have the Prince physically abuse the "dirty scullery maid" in those earlier meetings the way he does in traditional oral tales, and which base her riddle on something else.

In traditional versions of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur, where the heroine works as a servant at the palace, she typically takes off the Prince's boots for him, only for him to throw them at her, or fetches water for his bath, only for him to refuse to bathe in water touched by such a filthy girl and throw it onto her. (Or some other such things.) Or in some versions of Cinderella, she meets him on the road one day, he accidentally drops his riding whip, and she hands it back to him, only for him to swat her with it just because she looks so filthy and ugly. Then at the ball or at church, when he falls in love with the "mysterious lady" without knowing her real identity, he asks her where she comes from, and she replies that she's from the land of "Boot" or "Bath" or "Pick-Up-the-Whip." This traditionally happens three times over the course of the story.

This obviously doesn't work so well in a more modern retelling, since we're not so inclined to accept a heroine being abused by her future love interest, or a prince who's supposed to be the good guy casually abusing a servant or a peasant girl.

But a few adaptations find substitutes.

For example, Jim Henson's The Storyteller retells the story of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur as Sapsorrow, and has the heroine draw her cryptic statement at the ball from a verbal insult the initially-rude Prince gave her. The second time the Prince interacts with Sapsorrow in her furry disguise, he says that "cats chase mice, hens lay eggs," never the reverse, and that likewise he has (and wants) nothing to do with her. Later, at the ball, when he asks the beautiful princess where she comes from, she says she lives "where hens chase mice and cats lay eggs."

Then there's the classic 1973 Czech film Three Wishes for Cinderella. Cinderella and the Prince meets repeatedly before the ball: both in her ordinary rags, where they exchange some sassing and insults but earn each other's respect, and at a royal hunt, where she disguises herself as a boy and outshoots all the men. At the ball, when he asks her to marry him, she insists that first he answer three riddles: "Whose face is smudged with ashes but isn't a chimney sweep? Who has a feathered hat and a crossbow, but isn't a huntsman? Who wears a gown embroidered in silver, but isn't a princess?"

Then there's the 2011 adaptation of Aschenputtel from the German Christmas fairy tale anthology Sechs auf einen Streich. In that one, Prince Viktor and Cinderella meet twice before the ball: the first time, he accidentally causes her to fall face-down into a mud puddle, and the second time, she accidentally spills a sack of flour all over herself. Both of these scenes are friendly and funny, though of course far from traditionally romantic or dignified. At the ball, when he doesn't recognize her, she tells him that they've met twice before, and that their meetings were "first all black, then all white."

They all capture the essence of the older versions with their cunning, riddling Cinderellas, but without the uglier part.

@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings

[paschameleon]

So I posted one drawing of Peau d’Âne and I did 2 other drawings of her wearing the other 2 dresses as well as an everyday dress. I’m still trying to come up with a Disneyfied version of her story. I’ve got a few ideas brewing.

[tawnysoup]

the fritter (frin critter)

[ninjasmudge]

i regret to inform you all that my crack au became a real au so heres sin lamb. they performed a sin ritual that turned out to be way more powerful than they were used to after ascending to godhood. realising that much sin would kill any of the regular followers, they gave it to themself and then they just.... never absolved themself of it.

the crown calls it 'falling to temptation' and they started off using the sin like a wrath berserker mode in battle, and then it was just a way for them to cut loose. theyre still in their right mind, theyre just much more impulsive and if they want something, they get it. god deserves whatever they want after all.

narinder is... extremely intrigued by sin lamb.

semi related heres sin narinder, something that can only happen during sin rituals (thats not blood hes just patterned like that)

[silusvesuius]

baby👶 drawings. these are very dear to me rn.. 2nd pic is my Nelavis with @barvin0k's Varonur 🩵 last one is a baby bosmer and snow elf, hairiest of them all. although the bosmer was meant to be my girl Barletta too lols

[quartergremlin]

i very briefly thought about giving leo the dress, but this was better

prev

transcript:

Leo: Like the dress?

Yuichi: mhm. it's nice. Comfortable too. Zip me?

L: Yeah, sure.

Y: I'm kind of surprised you didn't want to wear it.

L: Naw. I've always liked the "open dress shirt" look. Plus... there's other benefits.

Y: oh yeah? Like what.

L: This.

[dancinghannigram]

booker, the bravest raccoon of them all !! im fairly certain this wasn't how the scene was described but it was what i imagined and i had to draw them !

[serpentface]

The wassibi, threatening you with a very bad time.

Wassibi are mid-sized (11-16 lb) solitary mustelids. This species is native throughout the lands south of the Viper seaway, thriving as generalists in a great diversity of habitats (though rarely occur in very arid environments or at high elevations). They are omnivores, using their broad noses and strong claws to dig out earthworms, beetle larvae, roots and tubers, foraging along the ground for insects, scorpions, bird eggs, fallen fruit, and small lizards and snakes, and occasionally scavenging carcasses and trash. They are particularly noted for their ability to find honey- splitting open bees nests with their claws and leisurely consuming larvae and honeycomb, seemingly untroubled by bee stings.

Wassibi are known above all else for their devastatingly noxious defensive anal gland spray. When threatened, they hiss, arch their backs and tails, raise their fur, and point their anus menacingly in the direction of danger. Should posturing fail, they will unleash their spray at the threat's face. Their anal glands have powerful muscular control and the attack is devastatingly accurate at up to 10 ft. In addition to having an atrocious stench, the liquid is mildly irritating to the skin, painful and temporarily blinding to the eyes, and can induce intense nausea and vomiting. The smell is resistant to washing, and can take weeks to fade. Most predators who experience a hit will learn to recognize the wassibi's stark aposematic coloring and avoid anything resembling it.

In addition to this potent defensive weaponry, they have dense fur and thick, loose skin, which renders them difficult for most predators to effectively grasp or pierce without risk of being bitten themselves. As such, wassibi have few consistent natural predators and are given a wide birth by most other animals. Their tendency to walk boldly in the open and sometimes even scavenge at carcasses alongside much larger predators commonly lends them cultural reputations of fearlessness. Wassibi are known for attacking large venomous snakes that potentially threaten their young, which (along with their frequent consumption of scorpions and bees) leads to common misconceptions that they are entirely immune to venom. They have no such resistance, rather their thick fur and loose skin cause bites and stings to land less effectively- most stings fail to penetrate their fur altogether, and bites often deal glancing blows that inject little to no venom.

Their biggest predatory threats come from humans. Wassibi meat is fairly rich and not unappealing to most palates used to wild game, but they are rarely considered worth the effort and risk of killing for consumption alone. They are more commonly hunted for their pelts (worn commonly by Wogan and North Wardi herders in hopes of deterring attacks from predators), bones, claws, and fat (used in traditional medicine for their purported antivenom properties). This hunting is fairly limited in scope overall, and most Wassibi populations remain stable.

[etchy-a-sketchy]

Obsessing over this fic

Doodled this for it!

[chimeride]

Carcolh, the 238th Known One.

[canisalbus]

I love the shape language for Machete and Vasco, how angular and pointy the former is VS how round and soft the other... It's so GOOD I adore that

Thank you! I like the contrast as well, it makes them very fun to draw together. I try to keep them visually distinct while still making sure that they look harmonious and complementary next to each other.

[puppyeared]

mmm, mmonkey

[mossymenagerieart]

Main character lineup for a western AU of me and @gxdcomplex’s fantasy ocs! Celestine is a rancher, Atticus is his stablehand (who may or may not have a past he doesn’t want to talk about or why he’s run away from it) and Meadowlark is under their care.

[Marrowsnap and Sienna are she/her, Carrion is they/she] And here are the Coyote Sisters’ leaders, the og coyote sisters! They lead a pack of werecoyotes (and all other people willing to travel with them who need a place to belong) and while they try to avoid conflict, they have some mischievous packmates who wind up out of line and go after a rancher’s herd or get into scuffles in town which is a headache for the Sisters to deal with. Because of this they often go head to head with Celestine and Atticus.

Little unfinished comic I made about Sienna and Carrion finding a wanted poster about them. (Gristle was one of their packmates that tried to attack one of Celestine’s cows)