#lesser-known wonders
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
10 Hidden Gems: Exploring the World's Lesser-Known Wonders
Discover 10 hidden gems around the world, from the Rainbow Mountains in China to the Enchanted River in the Philippines. Experience unique cultures and breathtaking natural beauty away from the typical tourist crowds. From the vibrant blue waters of the Enchanted River in the Philippines to the colorful Rainbow Mountains in China, the world is full of hidden gems waiting to be discovered. HereâŠ
View On WordPress
#adventure travel#Breathtaking Landscapes#Cultural Experiences#hidden gems#lesser-known wonders#Nature Lovers#Offbeat Travel#Unique Travel Destinations
1 note
·
View note
Note
Your art is adorable, and I really enjoy seeing your designs for the Silm characters! If you are still taking submissions, would you do MĂźm, please? But there's no pressure; I completely understand if you'd rather not.
Day #86 - MĂźm
Awww ty!!
No problem! MĂźm (Or, at least, his portrayal in the Czech musicals) is one of my favorites :D
#also this is a wonderful excuse to bring out my favorite new headcannon:#dwarves with cute lil ram horns. DWARVES WITH CUTE LIL RAM HORNS!!#I have so many creechure silm hcs they really need a day of their own lol#but yeah! still accepting requests! please don't be shy#they're all very very beloved <33#especially ones like this for rarer/lesser known characters -- u know that's someone's blorbo and they just got dopamine rushed by Tiny Art#anyways this one's for all the coh and mim lovers out there. you are being Percieved :P#mim#mim the petty-dwarf#the children of hĂșrin#coh#the silmarillion#chibi#cute#digital art#silm art#doodle#tolkien#dwarves#silm#ask#general-illyrin#daily smol silm
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obviously the structure of an episodic series often requires characters to go from 'complete strangers' to 'close friends/family' in an unusually short amount of time. I get it.
Writers need a 'new guy' in the group to ask questions about the setting that the audience can't, but still (especially in comedy shows) want the fun dynamics that come from all the main cast knowing each other super well. It's one of those functional tropes like L-Shaped Blankets where you're required to suspend your sense of disbelief.
Having said that, I love when writers choose to take this trope and retroactively justify it by later on revealing that the Seemingly Normal Everyman Character is actually as unhinged as the rest of the groupâ it's just that their weirdness manifests specifically as an ability to form found family dynamics with literally any group they join, almost immediately after joining.
Like, you assumed that they just fit in so well because your group has a special vibe, but then you accidentally left them in the supermarket for like five minutes and by the time you realised and went back they were already Blood Brothers with the cashier.
Characters who are like friendly dogs in that you can put them essentially anywhere, with anyone, and they will just be like âwelp! Guess this is my New Family nowâ and just go along with it.
#comedy#writing#tropes#been rewatching#derry girls#and noticing how james immediately takes on the percieved social norms#and tries to become part of#every group he's in#with admittedly varying success#put him in a room with a priest for five minutes#and he wants to be a priest#send him on a camping trip with 'lads' and he's acting deliberately blokey in an attempt to fit in#leave him for like half an hour with a group of travellers#and he's already fully part of the team#no wonder he became a derry girl so quick#also shout out to an even BETTER#but lesser known example of this trope#in the podcast#midnight burger#where the seemingly normal character who joined the crew#and fit in suspiciously quickly#gets lost in an alternate dimension alien wilderness for several weeks#and by the time the others find her she's literally just formed a new found family with the local wolves#and all the other characters are like ''what??''#and then *thinking back over the past few weeks*#''nevermind that makes sense''
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twelve, Thirteen, and One
Words: 6k
Rating: G
Themes: Friendship, Self-Giving Love
(Written for the Four Loves Fairytale Retelling Challenge over at the @inklings-challenge! A Cinderella retelling feat. curious critters and a lot of friendship.)
When the clock chimes midnight on that third evening, thirteen creatures look to the girl who showed them all kindness.
â
Itâs hours after dark, again, and the human girl still sleeps in the ashes.
The mice notice thisâthough it happens so often that theyâve ceased to pay attention to her. She smells like everything else in the hearth: ashy and overworked, tinged with the faint smell of herbs from the kitchen.
When she moves or shifts in her sleep (uncomfortable sleepâeven they can sense the exhaustion in her posture as she sits slumped against the wall, more willing to seep up warmth from the stone than lie cold elsewhere this time of year), they simply scurry around her and continue combing for crumbs and seeds. Theyâd found a feast of lentils scattered about once, and many other times, the girl had beckoned them softly to her hand, where sheâd held a little chunk of brown bread.
Tonight, she has nothing. They donât mindâthough three of them still come to sniff her limp hand where it lies drooped against the side of her tattered dress.
A fourth one places a little clawed hand on the side of her finger, leaning over it to investigate her palm for any sign of food.
When she stirs, itâs to the sensation of a furry brown mouse sitting in her palm.
It can feel the flickering of her muscles as she wakesâfeeling slowly returning to her body. To her credit, she cracks her eyes open and merely observes it.
Theyâre all but tame by now. The Harsh-Mistress and the Shrieking-Girl and the Angry-Girl are to be avoided like the plague never was, but this girlâthe Cinder-Girl, they think of herâis gentle and kind.
Even as she shifts a bit and they hear the dull crack of her joints, theyâre too busy to mind. Some finding a few buried peas (there were always some peas or lentils still hidden here, if they looked carefully), some giving themselves an impromptu bath to wash off the dust. The one sitting on her hand is doing the latter, fur fluffed up as it scratches one ear and then scrubs tirelessly over its face with both paws.
One looks up from where itâs discovered a stray pea to check her expression.
A warm little smile has crept up her face, weary and dirty and sore as she seems to be. She stays very still in her awkward half-curl against stone, watching the mouse in her hand groom itself. The tender look about her far overwhelmsâmelts, evenâthe traces of tension in her tired limbs.
Very slowly, so much so that they really arenât bothered by it, she raises her spare hand and begins lightly smearing the soot away from her eyes with the back of her wrist.
The mouse in her palm gives her an odd look for the movement, but has discovered her skin is warmer than the cold stone floor or the ash around the dying fire. It pads around in a circle once, then nudges its nose against her calloused skin, settling down for a moment.
The Cinder-Girl has closed her eyes again, and drops her other hand into her lap, slumping further against the wall. Her smile has grown even warmer, if sadder.
They decide sheâs quite safe. Very friendly.
â
The old rat makes his rounds at the usual times of night, shuffling through a passage that leads from the ground all the way up to the attic.
When both gold sticks on the clocksâ moonlike faces point upward, thereâs a faint chime from the tower-clock downstairs. He used to worry that the sound would rouse the humans. Now, he ignores it and goes about his business.
Thereâs a great treasury of old straw in the attic. Itâs inside a large sackâand while this one doesnât have corn or wheat like the ones near the kitchen sometimes do, he knows how to chew it open all the same.
The girl sleeps on this sack of straw, though she doesnât seem to mind what he takes from it. Thereâs enough more of it to fill a hundred ratâs nests, so he supposes she doesnât feel the difference.
Tonight, thoughâperhaps heâs a bit too loud in his chewing and tearing. The girl sits up slowly in bed, and he stiffens, teeth still sunk into a bit of the fabric.
âOh.â says the girl. She smilesâand though the expression should seem threatening, all pulled mouth-corners and teeth, he feels the gentleness in her posture and wonders at novel thoughts of differing body languages. âHello again. Do you need more straw?â
He isnât sure what the sounds mean, but they remind him of the soft whuffles and squeaks of his siblings when they were small. Inquisitive, unafraid. Not direct or confrontational.
Sheâs seemed safe enough so farâalmost like the woman in white and silver-gold heâs seen here sometimes, marveling at his own confidence in her safenessâso he does what signals not-afraid the best to his kind. He glances her over, twitches his whiskers briefly, and goes back to what he was doing.
Some of the straw is too big and rough, some too small and fine. He scratches a bundle out into a pile so he can shuffle through it. Itâs true he doesnât need much, but the chill of winter hasnât left the world yet.
The girl laughs. The sound is soft and small. It reminds him again of young, friendly, peaceable.
âTake as much as you need,â she whispers. Her movements are unassuming when she reaches for something on the old wooden crate she uses as a bedside table. With something in hand, she leans against the wall her bed is a tunnelâs-width from, and offers him what she holds. âWould you like this?â
He peers at it in the dark, whiskers twitching. His eyesight isnât the best, so he finds himself drawing closer to sniff at what she has.
Itâs a feather. White and curled a bit, like the goose-down heâd once pulled out the corner of a spare pillow long ago. Soft and long, fluffy and warm.
He touches his nose to itâthen, with a glance upward at her softly-smiling face, takes it in his teeth.
It makes him look like he has a mustache, and is a bit too big to fit through his hole easily. The girl giggles behind him as he leaves.
â
Thereâs a human out in the gardens again. Which is strangeâthis is a place for lizards, maybe birds and certainly bugs. Not for people, in his opinion. Sheâs not dressed in venomous bright colors like the other humans often are, but neither does she stay to the manicured garden path the way they do.
She doesnât smell like unnatural rotten roses, either. A welcome change from having to dart for cover at not just the motions, but the stenches that accompany the others that appear from time to time.
This human is behind the border-shubs, beating an ornate rug that hangs over the fence with a home-tied broom. Huge clouds of dust shake from it with each hit, settling in a thin film on the leaves and grass around her.
She stops for a moment to press her palm to her forehead, then turns over her shoulder and coughs into her arm.
When she begins again, itâs with a sharp WHOP.
He jumps a bit, but only on instinct. Howeverâ
A few feet from where he settles back atop the sunning-rock, thereâs a scuffle and a sharp splash. Then thrashingâwaster swashing about with little churns and splishes.
Itâs not the way of lizards to think of doing anything when one falls into the water. There were several basins for fish and to catch water off the roof for the gardenâthey simply had to not fall into them, not drown. There was little recourse for if they did. What could another lizard do, really? Fall in after them? Best to let them try to climb out if they could.
The girl hears the splashing. She stares at the water pot for a moment.
Then, she places her broom carefully on the ground and comes closer.
Closer. His heart speeds up. He skitters to the safety of a plant with low-hanging leavesâ
âand then watches as she walks past his hiding place, peers into the basin, and reaches in.
Her hand comes up dripping wet, a very startled lizard still as a statue clinging to her fingers.
âAre you the same one I always find here?â she asks with a chiding little smile. âOr do all of you enjoy swimming?â
When she places her hand on the soft spring grass, the lizard darts off of it and into the underbrush. It doesnât go as far as it could, thoughâsomething about this girl makes both of them want to stand still and wait for what sheâll do next.
The girl just watches it go. She lets out a strange soundâa weary laugh, perhapsâand turns back to her peculiar chore.
â
A song trails through the old houseâunder the floorboardsâthrough the wallsâinto the garden, beneath the undergrowthâand lures them out of hiding.
It isnât an audible song, not like that of the birds in the summer trees or the ashen-girl murmuring beautiful sounds to herself in the lonely hours. This one was silent. Yet, it reached deep down into their souls and said come out, pleaseâthe one who helped you needs your help.
It didnât require any thought, no more than eat or sleep or run did.
In chains of silver and grey, all the mice who hear it converge, twenty-four tiny feet pattering along the wood in the walls. The rat joins them, but they are not afraid.
When they emerge from a hole out into the open air, the soft slip-slap of more feet surround them. Six lizards scurry from the bushes, some gleaming wet as if theyâd just escaped the water trough or run through the birdbath themselves.
As a strange little hoard, they approach the kind girl. Beside her is a tall woman wearing white and silver and gold.
The girlâholding a large, round pumpkinâlooks surprised to see them here. The woman is smiling.
âSet the pumpkin on the drive,â the woman says, a soft gleam in her eye. âThe rest of you, line up, please.â
Bemused, but with a heartbeat fast enough for them to notice, the girl gingerly places the pumpkin on the stone of the drive. Itâs natural for them, somehow, to followâthe mice line in pairs in front of it, the rat hops on top of it, and the lizards all stand beside.
âWhat are they doing?â asks the girlâand thereâs curiosity and gingerness in her tone, like she doesnât believe such a sight is wrong, but is worried it might be.
The older woman laughs kindly, and a feeling like blinking hard comes over the world.
Itâs thenâthen, in that flash of darkness that turns to dazzling light, that something about them changes.
âOh!â exclaims the girl, and they open their eyes. âOh! Theyâreââ
Theyâre different.
The mice arenât mice at allâand suddenly they wonder if they ever were, or if it was an odd dream.
Theyâre horses, steel grey and sleek-haired with with silky brown manes and tails. Their harnesses are ornate and stylish, their hooves polished and dark.
Instead of a rat, thereâs a stout man in fine livery, with whiskers dark and smart as ever. He wears a fine cap with a familiar white feather, and the gleam in his eye is surprised.
âWell,â he says, examining his hands and the cuffs of his sleeves, âI suppose I wonât be wanting for adventure now.â
Instead of six lizards, six footmen stand at attention, their ivory jackets shining in the late afternoon sun.
The girl herself is different, though sheâs still humanâher hair is done up beautifully in the latest fashion, and instead of tattered grey she wears a shimmering dress of lovely pale green, inlaid with a design that only on close inspection is flowers.
âThey are under your charge, now,â says the woman in white, stepping back and folding her hands together. âIt is your responsibility to return before the clock strikes midnightâwhen that happens, the magic will be undone. Understood?â
âYes,â says the girl breathlessly. She stares at them as if sheâs been given the most priceless gift in all the world. âOh, thank you.â
â
The castle is decorated brilliantly. Flowery garlands hang from every parapet, beautiful vines sprawling against walls and over archways as they climb. Dozens of picturesque lanterns hang from the walls, ready to be lit once the sky grows dark.
âItâs been so long since Iâve seen the castle,â the girl says, standing one step out of the carriage and looking so awed she seems happy not to go any further. âFather and I used to drive by it sometimes. But it never looked so lovely as this.â
âShall we accompany you in, milady?â asks one of the footmen. Theyâre all nearly identical, though this one has freckles where he once had dark flecks in his scales.
She hesitates for only a moment, looking up at the pinnacles of the castle towers. Then, she shakes her head, and turns to look at them all with a smile like the sun.
âI think Iâll go in myself,â she says. âIâm not sure what is custom. But thank youâthank you so very much.â
And so they watch her goâstepping carefully in her radiant dress that looked lovelier than any queenâs.
Though she was not royal, it seemed there was no doubt in anyoneâs minds that she was. The guards posted at the door opened it for her without question.
With a last smile over her shoulder, she stepped inside.
â
He's straightening the horses' trappings for the fifth time when the doors to the castle open, and out hurries a figure. It takes him a moment to recognize her, garbed in rich fabrics and cloaked in shadows, but it's the girl, rushing out to the gilded carriage. A footman steps forward and offers her a hand, which she accepts gratefully as she steps up into the seat.
âEnjoyable evening, milady?â asks the coachman. His whiskers are raised above the corners of his mouth, and his twinkling eyes crinkle at the edges.
âYes, quite, thank you!â she breathes in a single huff. She smooths her dress the best she can before looking at him with some urgency. âThe clock just struck quarter tillâwill you be able to get us home?â
The gentle woman in white had said they only would remain in such states until midnight. How long was it until the middle of night? What was a quarter? Surely darkness would last for far more hours than it had alreadyâit couldnât be close. Yet it seemed as though it must be; the princesslike girl in the carriage sounded worried it would catch them at any moment.
âI will do all I can,â he promises, and with a sharp rap of the reins, theyâre off at a swift pace.
They arrive with minutes to spare. He knows this because after she helps him down from the carriage (...wait. That should have been the other way around! He makes mental note for next time: it should be him helping her down. If he can manage it. Sheâs fast), she takes one of those minutes to show him how his new pocketwatch works.
Heâs fascinated already. Thereâs a part of him that wonders if heâll remember how to tell time when heâs a rat againâor will this, all of this, be forgotten?
The woman in white is there beside the drive, and sheâs already smiling. A knowing gleam lights her eye.
âWell, how was the ball?â she asks, as Cinder-Girl turns to face her with the most elated expression. âI hear the prince is looking for fair maidens. Did he speak with you?â
The girl rushes to grasp the womanâs hands in hers, clasping them gratefully and beaming up at her.
âIt was lovely! Iâve never seen anything so lovely,â she all but gushes, her smile brighter and broader than theyâd ever seen it. âThe castle is beautiful; it feels so alive and warm. And yes, I met the Princeâalthough hush, he certainly isnât looking for meâheâs so kind. I very much enjoyed speaking with him. He asked me to dance, too; I had as wonderful a time as he seemed to. Thank you! Thank you dearly.â
The woman laughs gently. It isnât a laugh one would describe as warm, but neither is it cold in the sense some laughs can beâit's soft and beautiful, almost crystalline.
âThatâs wonderful. Now, up to bed! Youâve made it before midnight, but your sisters will be returning soon.â
âYes! Of course,â she replies eagerlyâturning to smile gratefully at coachman and stroke the nearest horses on their noses and shoulders, then curtsy to the footmen. âThank you all, very much. I could not ask for a more lovely company.â
Itâs a strange moment when all of their new hearts swell with warmth and affection for this girlâand then the world darkens and lightens so quickly they feel as though theyâve fallen asleep and woken up.
Theyâre them againâsix mice, six lizards, a rat, and a pumpkin. And a tattered gray dress.
âPlease, would you let me go again tomorrow? The ball will last three days. I had such a wonderful time.â
âCome,â the woman said simply, âand place the pumpkin beneath the bushes.â
The woman in white led the way back to the house, followed by an air-footed girl and a train of tiny critters. There was another silent song in the air, and they thought perhaps the girl could hear it too: one that said yesâbut get to bed!
â
The second evening, when the door of the house thuds shut and the hoofsteps of the familyâs carriage fade out of hearing, the rat peeks out of a hole in the kitchen corner to see the Cinder-Girl leap to her feet.
She leans close to the window and watched for more minutes than he quite understandsâor maybe he does; it was good to be sure all cats had left before coming out into the openâand then runs with a spring in her step to the back door near the kitchen.
Ever so faintly, like music, the womanâs laughter echoes faintly from outside. Drawn to it like he had been drawn to the silent song, the rat scurries back through the labyrinth of the walls.
When he hurries out onto the lawn, the mice and lizards are already there, looking up at the two humans expectantly. This time, the Cinder-Girl looks at them and smiles broadly.
âHello, all. Soâhow do you do it?â she asks the woman. Her eyes shine with eager curiosity. âI had no idea you could do such a thing. How does it work?â
The woman fixes her with a look of fond mock-sternness. âIf I were to explain to you the details of how, Iâd have to tell you why and whom, and youâd be here long enough to miss the royal ball.â She waves her hands she speaks. âAnd then youâd be very much in trouble for knowing far more than you ought.â
The rat misses the girlâs response, because the world blinks againâand now all of them once again are different. Limbs are long and slender, paws are hooves with silver shoes or feet in polished boots.
The mouse-horses mouth at their bits as they glance back at the carriage and the assortment of humans now standing by it. The footmen are dressed in deep navy this time, and the girl wears a dress as blue as the summer sky, adorned with brilliant silver stars.
âRememberââ says the woman, watching fondly as the Cinder-Girl steps into the carriage in a whorl of beautiful silk. âReturn before midnight, before the magic disappears.â
âYes, Godmother,â she calls, voice even more joyful than the previous night. âThank you!â
â
The castle is just as glorious as beforeâand the crowd within it has grown. Noblemen and women, royals and servants, and the prince himself all mill about in the grand ballroom.
Heâs unsure of the etiquette, but it seems best for her not to enter alone. Once he escorts her in, the coachman bows and watches for a momentâthe crowd is hushed again, taken by her beauty and how important they think her to beâand then returns to the carriage outside.
He isnât required in the ballroom for much of the nightâbut he tends to the horses and checks his pocketwatch studiously, everything in him wishing to be the best coachman that ever once was a rat.
Perhaps that wouldnât be hard. Heâd raise the bar, then. The best coachman that ever drove for a princess.
Because that was what she wasâor, that was what he heard dozens of hushed whispers about once sheâd entered the ball. Every noble and royal and servant saw her and deemed her a grand princess nobody knew from a land far away. The prince himself stared at her in a marveling way that indicated he thought no differently.
It was a thing more wondrous than he had practice thinking. If a mouse could become a horse or a rat could become a coachman, couldnât a kitchen-girl become a princess?
The answer was yes, it seemedâperhaps in more ways than one.
She had rushed out with surprising grace just before midnight. They took off quickly, and she kept looking back toward the castle door, as if worriedâbut she was smiling.
âDid you know the Prince is very nice?â she asks once theyâre safely home, and sheâs stepped down (drat) without help again. The woman in white stands on her same place beside the drive, and when Cinder-Girl sees her, she waves with dainty grace that clearly holds a vibrant energy and sheer thankfulness behind it. âIâve never known what it felt like to be understood. He thinks like I do.â
âHow is that?â asks the woman, quirking an amused brow. âAnd if I might ask, how do you know?â
âBecause he mentions things first.â The girl tries to smother some of the wideness of her smile, but canât quite do so. âAnd I've shared his thoughts for a long time. That he loves his father, and thinks oranges and citrons are nice for festivities especially, and that heâs always wanted to go out someday and do something new.â
â
The third evening, the clouds were dense and a few droplets of rain splattered the carriage as they arrived.
âLooks like rain, milady,â said the coachman as she disembarked to stand on water-spotted stone. âIf it doesnât blow by, weâll come for ye at the steps, if it pleases you.â
âCertainlyâthank you,â she replies, all gleaming eyes and barely-smothered smiles. How her excitement to come can increase is beyond themâbut she seems more so with each night that passes.
She has hardly turned to head for the door when a smattering of rain drizzles heavily on them all. She flinches slightly, already running her palms over the skirt of her dress to rub out the spots of water.
Her golden dress glisters even in the cloudy light, and doesnât seem to show the spots much. Still, itâs hardy an ideal thing.
âOne of you hold the parasolâquick about it, nowâand escort her inside,â the coachman says quickly. The nearest footman jumps into action, hop-reaching into the carriage and falling back down with the umbrella in hand, unfolding it as he lands. âWait about in case she needs anything.â
The parasol is small and not meant for this sort of weather, but it's enough for the moment. The pair of them dash for the door, the horses chomping and stamping behind them until theyâre driven beneath the bows of a huge tree.
The footman knows his duty the way a lizard knows to run from danger. He achieves it the same wayâby slipping off to become invisible, melting into the many people who stood against the golden walls.
From there, he watches.
Itâs so strange to see the way the prince and their princess gravitate to each other. The princeâs attention seems impossible to drag away from her, though not for manyâs lack of trying.
Likewiseâmore so than he would have thought, though perhaps heâs a bit slow in noticingâher focus is wholly on the prince for long minutes at a time.
Her attention is always divided a bit whenever she admires the interior of the castle, the many people and glamorous dresses in the crowd, the vibrant tables of food. Itâs all very new to her, and heâs not certain it doesnât show. But the Prince seems enamored by her delight in everythingâif he thinks it odd, he certainly doesnât let on.
They talk and laugh and sample fine foods and talk to other guests together, then they turn their heads toward where the musicians are starting up and smile softly when they meet each otherâs eyes. The Prince offers a hand, which is accepted and clasped gleefully.
Then, they dance.
Their motions are so smooth and light-footed that many of the crowd forgo dancing, because admiring them is more enjoyable. Theyâre in-sync, back and forth like slow ripples on a pond. They sometimes look around themâbut not often, especially compared to how long they gaze at each other with poorly-veiled, elated smiles.
The night whirls on in flares of gold tulle and maroon velvet, ivory, carnelian, and emerald silks, the crowd a nonstop blur of color.
(Color. New to him, that. Improved vision was wonderful.)
The clock strikes eleven, but thereâs still time, and heâs fairly certain he wonât be able to convince the girl to leave anytime before midnight draws near.
He was a lizard until very recently. Heâs not the best at judging time, yet. Midnight does draw near, but heâs not sure he understands how near.
The clock doesnât quite say up-up. So he still has time. When the rain drums ceaselessly outside, he darts out and runs in a well-practiced way to find their carriage.
â
Another of the footmen comes in quickly, having been sent in a rush by the coachman, who had tried to keep his pocketwatch dry just a bit too long. Heâs soaking wet from the downpour when he steps close enough to get her attention.
She sees him, notices this, andâwith a glimmer of recognition and amusement in her eyesâlaughs softly into her hand.
ONEâTWOâ the clock starts. His heart speeds up terribly, and his skin feels cold. He suddenly craves a sunny rock.
âUm,â he begins awkwardly. Lizards didnât have much in the way of a vocal language. He bows quickly, and water drips off his face and hat and onto the floor. âThe chimes, milady.â
THREEâFOURâ
Perhaps she thought it was only eleven. Her face pales. âOh.â
FIVEâSIXâ
Like a deer, she leaps from the princeâs side and only manages a stumbling, backward stride as she curtsies in an attempt at a polite goodbye.
âThank you, I must goââ she says, and then sheâs racing alongside the footman as fast as they both can go. The crowd parts for them just enough, amidst loud murmurs of surprise.
SEVENâEIGHTâ
âWait!â calls the prince, but they donât. Which hopefully isnât grounds for arrest, the footman idly thinks.
They burst through the door and out into the open air.
NINEâTENâ
It has been storming. The rain is crashing down in torrentsâthe walkways and steps are flooded with a firm rush of water.
She steps in a crevice she couldnât see, the water washes over her feet, and she stumbles, slipping right out of one shoe. Thereâs noise at the door behind them, so she doesnât stop or even hesitate. She runs at a hobble and all but dives through the open carriage door. The awaiting footman quickly closes it, and theyâre all grasping quickly to their riding-places at the corners of the vehicle.
ELEVENâ
A flash of lightning coats the horses in white, despite the dark water thatâs soaked into their coats, and with a crack of the rains and thunder they take off at a swift run.
Thereâs shouting behind themâthe princeâas people run out and call to the departing princess.
TWELVE.
Mist swallows them up, so thick they canât hear or see the castle, but the horses know the way.
The castleâs clock tower must have been ever-so-slightly fast. (Does magic tell truer time?) Their escape works for a few thundering strides down the invisible, cloud-drenched roadâuntil true midnight strikes a few moments later.
â
She walks home in the rain and fog, following a white pinprick of light she can guess the source ofâall the while carrying a hollow pumpkin full of lizards, with an apron pocket full of mice and a rat perched on her shoulder.
Itâs quite the walk.
â
The prince makes a declaration so grand that the mice do not understand it. The ratâa bit different nowâtells them most things are that way to mice, but heâs glad to explain.
The prince wants to find the girl who wore the golden slipper left on the steps, he relates. He doesnât want to ask any other to marry him, he loved her company so.
The mice think thatâs a bit silly. Concerning, even. What if he does find her? There wonât be anyone to secretly leave seeds in the ashes or sneak them bread crusts when no humans are looking.
The rat thinks theyâre being silly and that theyâve become too dependent on handouts. Back in his day, rodents worked for their food. Chewing open a bag of seed was an honest dayâs work for its wages.
Besides, he confides, as he looks again out the peep-hole theyâve discovered in the floor trim of the parlor. Youâre being self-interested, if you ask me. Donât you want our princess to find a good mate, and live somewhere spacious and comfortable, free of human-cats, where sheâd finally have plenty to eat?
Itâs hard to make a mouse look appropriately chastised, but that question comes close. They shuffle back a bit to let him look out at the strange proceedings in the parlor again.
There are many humans there. The Harsh-Mistress stands tall and rigid at the back of one of the parlor chairs, exchanging curt words with a strange man in fine clothes with a funny hat. Shrieking-Girl and Angry-Girl stand close, scoffing and laughing, looking appalled.
Cinder-Girl sits on the chair thatâs been pulled to the middle of the room. She extends her foot toward a strange golden object on a large cushion.
The shoe, the rat notes so the mice can follow. They canât quite see it from hereâpoor eyesight and all.
Of course, the girlâs foot fits perfectly well into her own shoe. They all saw that coming.
Evidently, the humans did not. Thereâs absolute uproar.
âThere is no possible way sheâs the princess youâre looking for!â declares Harsh-Mistress, her voice full of rage. âSheâs a kitchen maid. Nothing royal about her.â
âHow dare you!â Angry-Girl rages. âWhy does it fit you? Why not us?â
âYou sneak!â shrieks none other than Shrieking-Girl. âMother, she snuck to the ball! She must have used magic, somehow! Princes wonât marry sneaks, will they?â
âI think they might,â says a calm voice from the doorway, and the uproar stops immediately.
The Prince steps in. He stares at Cinder-Girl.
She stares back. Her face is still smudged with soot, and her dress is her old one, gray and tattered. The golden slipper gleams on her foot, having fit as only something molded or magic could.
A blush colors her face beneath the ash and she leaps up to do courtesy. âYour Highness.â
The Prince glances at the messenger-man with the slipper-pillow and the funny hat. The man nods seriously.
The Prince blinks at this, as if he wasnât really asking anything with his lookâitâs already clear he recognizes herâand meets Cinder-Girlâs gaze with a smile. Itâs the same half-nervous, half-attemptingly-charming smile as he kept giving her at the ball.
He bows to her and offers a hand. (The rat has to push three mice out of the way to maintain his view.)
âItâs my honor,â he assures her. âWould you do me the great honor of accompanying me to the castle? Iâd had a question in mind, but it seems there areââ he glances at Harsh-Mistress, who looks like a very upset rat in a mousetrap. ââsituations we might discuss remedying. Youâd be a most welcome guest in my fatherâs house, if youâd be amenable to it?â
Itâs all so much more strange and unusual than anything the creatures of the house are used to seeing. They almost donât hear it, at firstâthat silent song.
It grows stronger, though, and they turn their heads toward it with an odd hope in their hearts.
â
The ride to the castle is almost as strange as that prior walk back. The reasons for this are such:
Oneâtheir princess is riding in their golden carriage alongside the prince, and their chatter and awkward laughter fills the surrounding spring air. They have a good feeling about the prince, now, if they didnât already. He can certainly take things in stride, and he is no respecter of persons. He seems just as elated to be by her side as he was at the ball, even with the added surprise of where she'd come from.
Twoâthey have been transformed again, and the woman in white has asked them a single question: Would you choose to stay this way?
The coachman said yes without a second thought. Heâd always wanted life to be more fulfilling, he confidedâand this seemed a certain path to achieving that.
The footmen might not have said yes, but there was something to be said for recently-acquired cognition. It seemedâstrange, to be human, but the thought of turning back into lizards had the odd feeling of being a poor choice. Baffled by this new instinct, they said yes.
The horses, of course, said things like whuff and nyiiiehuhum, grumph. The woman seemed to understand, though. She touched one horse on the nose and told it it would be the castleâs happiest mouse once the carriage reached its destination. The others, it seemed, enjoyed their new stature.
And threeâthey are heading toward a castle, where they have all been offered a fine place to live. The Prince explains that he doesnât wish for such a kind girl to live in such conditions anymore. Thereâs no talk of anyone marryingâjust discussions of rooms and favorite foods and of course, youâll have the finest chicken pie anytime youâd like and I canât have others make it for me! Lend me the kitchens and Iâll make some for you; I have a very dear recipe. Perhaps you can help. (Followed in short order by a ...Certainly, but Iâdâum, Iâd embarrass myself trying to cook. You would teach me? and a gentle laugh that brightened the souls of all who could hear it.)
âIf youâd be amenable to it,â she repliesâand in clear, if surprised, agreement, the Prince truly, warmly laughs.
âMilady,â the coachman calls down to them. âYour Highness. Weâre here.â
The castle stands shining amber-gold in the light of the setting sun. It will be the fourth night theyâve come hereâthe thirteen of them and the one of herâbut midnight, they realize, will not break the spell ever again.
One by one, they disembark from the carriage. If it will stay as it is or turn back into a pumpkin, they hadn't thought to ask. Thereâs so much warmth swelling in their hearts that they donât think it matters.
The girl, their princess, smilesâa dear, true smile, tentative in the face of a brand new world, but bright with hopeâand suddenly, theyâre all smiling too.
She steps forward, and they follow. The prince falls into step with her and offers an arm, and their glances at each other are brimming with light as she accepts.
With her arm in the arm of the prince, a small crowd of footmen and the coachman trailing behind, and a single grey mouse on her shoulder, the once-Cinder-Girl walks once again toward the palace door.
#Well this wasn't my first Cinderella retelling idea that I was excited about BUT -#since that one was turning into a tangle of Too Much Going On (though it's currently at 5k and maybe 70% done; I still plan to finish it)#I tried this one instead!#pros: I think I actually wrote myself out of writer's block? Which is AWESOME#And I feel like I'm starting to notice what needs fixed and mended about my writing; which is very helpful!#cons: due to having the additional pro of a very socially growth-filled few weeks IRL; I did not do much about that fact#please excuse the general lack of editing thus far#I have also learned that I may want to be at least a Level 5 Fairy Tale Reteller#before I tackle stories with hundreds of years of popular retellings and versions?#Although this one came much more easily than my first idea; it still felt more difficult to write than my Nix Nought Nothing story.#So another pro - I learned that I enjoy writing about lesser-known tales the most! Next time I might try a fun obscure one.#All in all this was a ton of fun!! Thanks for running the challenge! Apologies for being nearly late - I had a wonderful time!#I hope you all enjoy! <3#inklingschallenge#four loves fairy tale retelling challenge#love: philia#love: agape#Cinderella#story: complete#basil writes#salt and light
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
the way the Gallaghers are about the Beatles has such a nice parallel with how it is to be an Oasis fan. has you going âyes I know everyone likes them, but I love them, dearly and earnestly and thoroughly, and it is love, you can tell because it makes me happyâ
#does liking the beatles or oasis or any super famous group get you Cool Indie Girl points? no#but fuck cool indie girl points ⊠I love plenty of lesser-known stuff too but itâs wonderful to#listen to something everyone you know likes and still feel like itâs yours because itâs in Your HEART as well#typing through tears rn whoops
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
LAURENCE HARVEY a.k.a. LARUSHKA MISCHA / ZVI MOSHEH SKIKNE (born october 1st, 1928 - died november 25th, 1973)
âI always believed in Laurence Harvey, even when nobody else did. Especially when nobody else did.â
âMost people imagined they knew and understood Larry with little trouble. That was a big mistake. They didn't know how deep and complex, how elusive, he remained behind his social mask.â - Paulene Stone, his wife
âI cannot yield to failure, it would make far too many people happy.â
#i care him (obscure actor nobody is talking about)#idk man i felt inspired to make this and ive been working on it for the past several hours at my job. i wish it was my job#so-called free thinkers when they remember a guy. anyway!#the first gif is from the wonderful world of the brothers grimm and we're lucky i was able to even get it bc its GONE from tubi đ#fortunately i got it from some clip on youtube abt the restoration but i had to include something from that movie#with a vague theme in these gifs of lesser known. appearances. i guess#the second is from when a bunch of actors went to this birthday celebration for noel coward#the next is from password (his silly little mannerisms and the lady's eyebrow raise at the end is killing me)#and then celebrity bowling followed by columbo and then lastly welcome to arrow beach#for those of you if any that cared where these all came from#i just think he's neat (guy that i would like to make a documentary on)#and well he deserved a good gifset. maybe ill even make more . it could happen#you should all still watch the wonderful world of the brothers grimm. just maybe not some of his other movies ive suffered through#the columbo gif could look better but for some reason the gif maker made all the colors suck :( and thats the best it was gonna look#it was a battle against source quality and tumblrs gif size limit#i also considered making other gifs but you know what im happy w six (i don't have the patience to do more)#that post thats going around of like you have to follow people that are obsessed w old hollywood actors. im doing my part#youd love him. he was a bisexual sarcastic bitch . and i also think hes đ”âđ« but that was probably obvious#laurence harvey#not bothering 2 tag the movies#happy larry day. which inspired all this
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Is there a lolita to ftm pipeline or what the fuck is going on?
#i don't mean the book im talking about the fashion#not that surprising considering mana-sama's impact when it comes to weebs my age#but it's still funny that I've seen a lot of 'girls' start with like... sweet lolita#then they try ouji#and then you look away for a moment and they're men/nb#i could say the same about cosplay. some people out there do crossplay once and decide they never want to go back#im not complaining. i find this delightful#i would like some insight on the transfems tho...#i have typically feminine interests so I don't get to meet a lot of amab people#like... what are some of their lesser known pipelines? i should probably try lurking their communities more...#but in the case of lolita i wonder if the emphasis on modesty and deliberate rejection of appealing to the male gaze...#is something that also catches the eye of those that don't want to be like... female objects of desire but for gender reasons#gonna be thinking about this for a while now#guys i love gender <- guy who doesnt care much for his own
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lesser Known Cryptid 9/21/20: Wonder... Binary Savior... Frog? Man I don't know
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
weird strict dad feels like the garten of banban of roblox except while banban is an amusing carwreck, weird strict dad feels like a fiery trainwreck.
#i love word salad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#watching a vid on W.S.Ds chapter 3 and my eyes keep widening in horror. what do you mean they may or may not have ripped off another-#-lesser known game that also uses the SAME EXACT FUCKING PLATFORM#kenopsia wonders
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
things you should keep me far away from:
fictional ships.
#day texts#danone's shitposts#literally tho im such a massive sucker for fictional ships in media#sucks to be a hopeless romantic ig?? i live vicariously through ship art#barely into op and i have fav ships already.....#like sanuso and frobin.... kinda zolu idk#if you checked my likes its 80% ship art and im not even that embarassed#can u tell im very touch starved#and if you want to talk Haikyuu!! boy i have some weird ships over there too#like yea im a classic hq shipper.... but i also love iwaken and some other lesser known pairings#anywhosit... yeah keep me away from ship art otherwise i get into like this mind state where i just wonder if i'll ever feel love like that?#etc etc etc my brain has a lot of things it goes to when faced with ship art#*sobs and screams into the pillow* i just wanna BE LOVED
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
it is becoming Increasingly Clear to me that i can no longer be taken out into public because i will start doing to fonts what jirt would do to the rocks and plants whilst on little walks
#the worm speaks#i'm noticing that a lot of signage these days don't have small caps which is a bit sad but i suppose they are somewhat antiquated#most of them have just straight up all-caps and i'm like 'mmmm. would a small caps version be better here?'#the other day i was like 'what if i left everything behind to get a job at a type foundry in taiwan. what then.'#what would i bring to the table there? why a sense of western aestheticism for the latin glyphs in their fonts#combined with a lesser but probably still noteworthy knowledge of chinese calligraphy to help ensure there is a sense of unity#btwn the latin and chinese glyphs#and also kerning i would bring kerning to the table for the latin glyphs. like if we Must be monospace abt things we can do that#but on god. the number of times i download a cn script font and go 'ah.' bc the english is the Ugliest monospace serif you'll ever see#fortunately while it is a bit of work it's at least easier to match english fonts to cn ones bc there are So Many more free ones lol#the other day i was looking through a chinese font website n i was reading their ~story~ behind this one particular series#that they based off the calligraphy in these five or six Ancient Rare Books in the national palace museum#and they were like 'yes the poetry was beautiful and moving. but to a type designer the writing itself is even more attractive'#and i felt so called out. i have just the most incurable font disease on the planet lmao#the other thing i think that might be neat to bring to cn font design Would be the concept of italics#like i know that's just not a standard thing and that Makes sense bc to oblique the letters is just#like. why would you do that. it's hard to read. but the spirit of italics is to change the font style entirely whilst keeping in harmony#with the rest of the regular typeface which i think would be Neat to bring in esp since italics usually have a bit more flourish to them#the other day i also found out that fangsong is used in government documents n i was like#>:0 no wonder it has every character and variant known to man......
4 notes
·
View notes
Video
youtube
Endless Ocean - Wii Wonders!
Souldin's wonderful review of the Wii game; Endless Ocean! Premieres at 6AM BST on 17/1/2024!
Welcome to a review of the Touch Generation Nintendo IP, Endless Ocean. Dive down into the dark and mysterious depths of the Manauri Sea, encountering ancient structures and unfamiliar aquatic wildlife in this oddly relaxing experience.
Wii Wonders Season 2 Cover Art by AngelAik0: https://www.deviantart.com/angelaik0/art/Commission-Nanka-872606281 Wii Wonders Story Art by xXxSai: https://www.deviantart.com/starteam2017/art/Commission-for-Sould1n-811636274 Wii Wonders Controls Art by Ang_YUSOX: https://www.deviantart.com/starteam2017/art/Commission-Nanka-811758731 Wii Wonders Gameplay Art by Seasickjelly: https://www.deviantart.com/starteam2017/art/Chibi-Monochrome-Commission-Nanka-831774583 Wii Wonders Conclusion Art by Sakka-sama: https://www.deviantart.com/sakka-sama/art/Com-Nanka-833535376 Endless Ocean is exclusive to the Nintendo Wii.
Date Made: 29/10/2023 to 4/11/2023 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCXCFgLZmjBeMCt-QbSoDhVA Tumblr: http://grinbrothers.tumblr.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/GrinBrothers
#youtube#wii wonders#nintendo wii#endless ocean#obscure nintendo ip#nanka#grin brothers#wii wonders season 2#diving game#scuba diving game#adventure game#simulation game#diving simulator#wii#wiiu#souldin#wiiwonders#waggle time#touch generation#lesser known nintendo ip#2007 game#grinbrothers#wii review#game review#youtube premiere
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't have any strong feelings abt matt mercer dming for d20. I am enjoying seeing the intense reactions of everyone else tho
#matt mercer doesn't need this publicity I don't get why they did it#my feed is full of people both hating on matt mercer and loving him#my interest in this season is entirely dependent on the players and setting#like I'm not a huge matt mercer fan cause I don't have 5 free years to watch cr#but I don't hate him. I liked him on eftbk and pirol#this move feels v like. idk fan servicy? giving the people what they want#which makes me wonder if they are going to kinda lean into the oops all dms idea that has been around for years#and have like. aabriya brennan and murph as some of the players#I mean I'm 100% sure down to my bones that brennan will be playing it would be crazy of them not to put him there#I also do wonder if they'll maybe bring some lesser known players and use matt mercer drawing in people to like. give them some publicity?#I will say. I have seen people be like#and acting like it's some moral failure on the side of the show and that's. fucking crazy to me#like. d20 can still value giving platform to smaller creators while collaborating with Matt mercer#it's crazy to act like every single new dm has to be a smaller creator#plus even if you hate matt mercer you gotta acknowledge that without critical role d&d and actual plays wouldn't be where they are now#like it v much brought it into the mainstream and a new level of success#like I can't see a world in which d20 and exists without critical role's success paving the way
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
SCREAMING!! AND CRYING!!
ATBO covered B.A.Pâs Warrior!! And itâs really good (as expected)!!
#yâall Iâm being so literal#my friend is at the twice concert rn so I canât scream to her#I donât recall if trcng covered warrior (probably) but they were in the same company#so this is basically the first cover (at least in a REALLY long time) of warrior#and like ahhhhhhh#like we BEEN KNEW that boy groups train w/ BAP songs#so where have our covers been?!#I have been WAITING for ateez or stray kids#thank you so much atbo#and they did a stellar job#I need to go finish the actual performance because I was freaking out the whole time#yâall I am so happy#like sometimes I need reminders that bap really are/were THAT group#because folks donât be talking about them#this whole revival stuff lately is seriously amazing#peak time truly was a blessing#wow wow wow#admittedly atbo wasnât a group I paid much attention to during peak time but now Iâm wondering if any members had interactions w/ jongup#there was this one fanboy from a lesser known group but I wanna say he was in blk not atbo#ima double check#anyways screaming crying quaking in my boots#bap#atbo#me#jt#just thoughts#sorry idk how to post YouTube videos here#so Iâm kindly & patiently waiting for someone to post the vid here
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Even now... I wish that you would Please talk to me. Tell me how you're feeling and what you want and what I can do to help.
#moddy rambles#old friend#deadwatered#I just miss ya and I wanted to close the chapter too#I've been waiting ya know#I wanted to close the chapter too#I don't know so many things#I don't know why you're choosing to leave it unresolved I don't know why you decided to cut me so completely out of your life in the first#place#I'm just left... confused AND a little hurt#always wondering#sometimes I really would prefer to be just hurt#or just knowing that you were confused too#or knowing if you even give a shit or think of me at all#oh well#life goes on I suppose#though it feels lesser without you#I'm sorry for everything and you are already forgiven. Thank you so#much#for being my friend and partner all those years#it was truly some of the best times of my life#I am so much better a person for having known you#It was so brave of you to break up when it was no longer working I'm sorry I never told you that#I'm still proud of you#thank you D#wish we still talked#personal post
0 notes
Text
youtube
#1) Artistic wonders#2) Museums#3) Documentary#4) World#5) Masterpieces#6) Cultural treasures#7) Historical artifacts#8) Human creativity#9) Expression#10) Louvre#11) Guggenheim Museum#12) Art history#13) Expert commentary#14) Behind-the-scenes#15) Visuals#16) Hidden gems#17) Iconic masterpieces#18) Lesser-known treasures#19) Cultural landmark#20) Creativity#21) Art lovers#22) Virtual tour#23) Artistic journey#24) Global perspective#25) Art exploration#26) Art enthusiasts#27) Art education#28) Art appreciation#29) Art collection#30) Art exhibition
0 notes