Friday, June 29, 2012

Pinocchio Chapter Three

As soon as he gets home, Geppetto fashions the Marionette and calls it Pinocchio. The first pranks of the Marionette

     Little as Geppetto's house was, it was neat and comfortable. It was a small room on the ground floor, with a tiny window under the stairway.

Wait, the whole house was a small room on the ground floor? Or he only owned a small room on the ground floor of the building? If the house is only a one-floor room, why is there a stairway? Clarity, people!

 The furniture could not have been much simpler: a very old chair, a rickety old bed, and a tumble-down table. A fireplace full of burning logs was painted on the wall opposite the door. Over the fire, there was painted a pot full of something which kept boiling happily away and sending up clouds of what looked like real steam. actual fire, then?

    As soon as he reached home, Geppetto took his tools and began to cut and shape the wood into a Marionette.
    "What shall I call him?" he said to himself. "I think I'll call him PINOCCHIO. This name will make his fortune. I knew a whole family of Pinocchi once--Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the mother, and Pinocchi the children-- and they were all lucky. The richest of them begged for his living."

 Begging typically is not the employ that comes to mind when thinking of riches...

    After choosing the name for his Marionette, Geppetto set seriously to work to make the hair, the forehead, the eyes. Fancy his surprise when he noticed that these eyes moved and then stared fixedly at him. Geppetto, seeing this, felt insulted and said in a grieved tone:

    "Ugly wooden eyes, why do you stare so?"

    There was no answer.

These people seem to get offended at the slightest thing. Even being looked at is an insult! Heaven forbid someone DARED to sneeze in their general direction!

    After the eyes, Geppetto made the nose, which began to stretch as soon as finished. It stretched and stretched and stretched till it became so long, it seemed endless.

Well that seems inconvenient.

    Poor Geppetto kept cutting it and cutting it, but the more he cut, the longer grew that impertinent nose. In despair he let it alone.
    Next he made the mouth.

Here I am sensing a mistake.

    No sooner was it finished than it began to laugh and poke fun at him.


    "Stop laughing!" said Geppetto angrily; but he might as well have spoken to the wall.
    "Stop laughing, I say!" he roared in a voice of thunder.
    The mouth stopped laughing, but it stuck out a long tongue.

    Not wishing to start an argument, Geppetto made believe he saw nothing and went on with his work. After the mouth, he made the chin, then the neck, the shoulders, the stomach, the arms, and the hands.

So, he wants to avoid arguing with a hunk of wood that's being a pain, and yet was willing to jump into fisticuffs with his 'sworn' friend who gave him the wood? Inconsistent.

    As he was about to put the last touches on the finger tips, Geppetto felt his wig being pulled off. He glanced up and what did he see? His yellow wig was in the Marionette's hand. "Pinocchio, give me my wig!"
     But instead of giving it back, Pinocchio put it on his own head, which was half swallowed up in it.
    At that unexpected trick, Geppetto became very sad and downcast, more so than he had ever been before.
    "Pinocchio, you wicked boy!" he cried out. "You are not yet finished, and you start out by being impudent to your poor old father. Very bad, my son, very bad!"
    And he wiped away a tear.

 Whaaa....he cries?! He gets into a physical fight with another adult over barely a word, and yet instead of taking a switch to an impertinent, insulting and rude child, he cries?!

    The legs and feet still had to be made. As soon as they were done, Geppetto felt a sharp kick on the tip of his nose.
    "I deserve it!" he said to himself. "I should have thought of this before I made him. Now it's too late!"

 Too late? Just find someone who has an operation fireplace and toss him in. That'll end the whole matter.

    He took hold of the Marionette under the arms and put him on the floor to teach him to walk.
    Pinocchio's legs were so stiff that he could not move them, and Geppetto held his hand and showed him how to put out one foot after the other.
     When his legs were limbered up, Pinocchio started walking by himself and ran all around the room. He came to the open door, and with one leap he was out into the street. Away he flew!

 Let him go, dude, let him go.

    Poor Geppetto ran after him but was unable to catch him, for Pinocchio ran in leaps and bounds, his two wooden feet, as they beat on the stones of the street, making as much noise as twenty peasants in wooden shoes.
    "Catch him! Catch him!" Geppetto kept shouting. But the people in the street, seeing a wooden Marionette running like the wind, stood still to stare and to laugh until they cried.

Now, see, I'd be very surprised if people in that time laughed at such an unearthly sight. More likely they'd brand the puppet and it's maker witches and burn them, or at least destroy the marionette.

 At last, by sheer luck, a Carabineer happened along, who, hearing all that noise, thought that it might be a runaway colt, and stood bravely in the middle of the street, with legs wide apart, firmly resolved to stop it and prevent any trouble.
     A military policeman

 Well, thank you for clarifying what a Carabineer is, at least. Decent of him to want to prevent any trouble from starting up, too.

     Pinocchio saw the Carabineer from afar and tried his best to escape between the legs of the big fellow, but without success.
    The Carabineer grabbed him by the nose (it was an extremely long one and seemed made on purpose for that very thing) and returned him to Master Geppetto.

 He uses logic and actually does his job well! Bravo!

    The little old man wanted to pull Pinocchio's ears. Think how he felt when, upon searching for them, he discovered that he had forgotten to make them!

 Then how could the puppet hear him at all when he told it to be quiet?

    All he could do was to seize Pinocchio by the back of the neck and take him home. As he was doing so, he shook him two or three times and said to him angrily:
    "We're going home now. When we get home, then we'll settle this matter!"
    Pinocchio, on hearing this, threw himself on the ground and refused to take another step. One person after another gathered around the two.
    Some said one thing, some another.
    "Poor Marionette," called out a man. "I am not surprised he doesn't want to go home. Geppetto, no doubt, will beat him unmercifully, he is so mean and cruel!"
    "Geppetto looks like a good man," added another, "but with boys he's a real tyrant. If we leave that poor Marionette in his hands he may tear him to pieces!"
    They said so much that, finally, the Carabineer ended matters by setting Pinocchio at liberty and dragging Geppetto to prison.

Wait, what? No, really, what? The policeman who caught the obviously troublesome puppet is now freeing it again, so it can cause more trouble, and dragging an old man off to prison just because some bystanding gossippers wouldn't shut up?

 The poor old fellow did not know how to defend himself, but wept and wailed like a child and said between his sobs:
    "Ungrateful boy! To think I tried so hard to make you a well-behaved Marionette! I deserve it, however! I should have given the matter more thought."

 Yes, you should have, like NOT MAKING IT after you notice the first few signs of the wood containing such a mischievous spirit!

    What happened after this is an almost unbelievable story, but you may read it, dear children, in the chapters that follow.

And so ends chapter three. As to the picture....It is far, FAR from my best, I know it and I apologize for it, but it was both rushed and a bit forced because I've been working on other projects, making convention badges for my friends, and...well....I don't like puppets and really, REALLY didn't want to draw one. Puppets creep me the heck out, and I don't like seeing them, much less drawing them, so I basically threw this one together as quickly as I could just to get it over and done with. The upcoming chapters won't have the puppet in the images if I can at all avoid it. I'm such a wuss...Cardboard cutouts, lightning, puppets and a lot of other everyday things just freak me out. Blargle.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012


I want to apologize for taking so long to get the next chapters up, I've been working my backside off making con badges for my friends, trying to get commissions and trying to find a job. I have been unable to find one so far, and the situation isn't looking very good at the moment as far as that goes, so I've been trying to get commissions to even it out but no one else seems to have money right now either. So, I'll get the chapters and artwork up as soon as I can, but right now my priorities tend to be somewhere in the 'get-money-so-I-don't-turn-into-an-unwashed-dead-hobo' range.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Pinocchio Chapter Two

The second chapter in our tale, the Original Pinocchio. I don't have a picture for this one either-nothing in it really sprang to my mind as something worth drawing, and my wrist has been hurting from working on other projects-but I will be including pictures with the majority of these chapters!

Master Cherry gives the piece of wood to his friend Geppetto, who takes it to make himself a Marionette that will dance, fence, and turn somersaults.

I find it interesting that the author thought it necessary to include a summarization of the chapter at the very beginning of each one.

       In that very instant, a loud knock sounded on the door. "Come in," said the carpenter, not having an atom of strength left with which to stand up.

    At the words, the door opened and a dapper little old man came in. His name was Geppetto, but to the boys of the neighborhood he was Polendina, on account of the wig he always wore which was just the color of yellow corn.

     Cornmeal mush. felt the need to elaborate on that?

     Geppetto had a very bad temper. Woe to the one who called him Polendina! He became as wild as a beast and no one could soothe him.

Clearly father of the year material right there.

    "Good day, Master Antonio," said Geppetto. "What are you doing on the floor?"

    "I am teaching the ants their A B C's."

....I think I like this guy.

    "Good luck to you!" he serious?

    "What brought you here, friend Geppetto?"

    "My legs. And it may flatter you to know, Master Antonio, that I have come to you to beg for a favor."

Did they speak exclusively in quips and sarcasm at that time?

    "Here I am, at your service," answered the carpenter, raising himself on to his knees.

    "This morning a fine idea came to me."

    "Let's hear it."

    "I thought of making myself a beautiful wooden Marionette. It must be wonderful, one that will be able to dance, fence, and turn somersaults. With it I intend to go around the world, to earn my crust of bread and cup of wine. What do you think of it?"

    "Bravo, Polendina!" cried the same tiny voice which came from no one knew where.

How would the block of wood know people called him that?

    On hearing himself called Polendina, Master Geppetto turned the color of a red pepper and, facing the carpenter, said to him angrily:

    "Why do you insult me?"

    "Who is insulting you?"

    "You called me Polendina."

    "I did not."

    "I suppose you think I did! Yet I KNOW it was you."





And thus the grown men descend into the behavior of five year olds.

    And growing angrier each moment, they went from words to blows, and finally began to scratch and bite and slap each other.

....very violent five year olds.

    When the fight was over, Master Antonio had Geppetto's yellow wig in his hands and Geppetto found the carpenter's curly wig in his mouth.

............I don't even want to know.

    "Give me back my wig!" shouted Master Antonio in a surly voice.

    "You return mine and we'll be friends."

    The two little old men, each with his own wig back on his own head, shook hands and swore to be good friends for the rest of their lives.

    "Well then, Master Geppetto," said the carpenter, to show he bore him no ill will, "what is it you want?"

    "I want a piece of wood to make a Marionette. Will you give it to me?"

    Master Antonio, very glad indeed, went immediately to his bench to get the piece of wood which had frightened him so much. But as he was about to give it to his friend, with a violent jerk it slipped out of his hands and hit against poor Geppetto's thin legs.

    "Ah! Is this the gentle way, Master Antonio, in which you make your gifts? You have made me almost lame!"

    "I swear to you I did not do it!"

    "It was I, of course!"

    "It's the fault of this piece of wood."

    "You're right; but remember you were the one to throw it at my legs."

    "I did not throw it!"


    "Geppetto, do not insult me or I shall call you Polendina."





    "Ugly monkey!"


Well, Geppetto has slightly more creativity when it comes to insults. Didn't they swear to be friends for the rest of their lives a few moments ago?

    On hearing himself called Polendina for the third time, Geppetto lost his head with rage and threw himself upon the carpenter. Then and there they gave each other a sound thrashing.

    After this fight, Master Antonio had two more scratches on his nose, and Geppetto had two buttons missing from his coat. Thus having settled their accounts, they shook hands and swore to be good friends for the rest of their lives.

For all of two seconds. Within moments they were quite literally at one another's throats again, and the cycle repeated itself until the end of time.

    Then Geppetto took the fine piece of wood, thanked Master Antonio, and limped away toward home.

......Well then. Not much you can say to that!

Monday, June 18, 2012

Pinocchio Ch. 1

This is the original version of Pinocchio, written by one Carlo Collodi. Everyone knows of the Disney version, and there have been many others-but this is the original, unedited (to the best of my knowledge) version. I'll be posting it chapter by chapter, and I will TRY to have a picture for each chapter, but some of them really have nothing that would make an interesting picture, so a few of them won't have ones to go with it.

So, without further ado, Pinocchio!


How it happened that Master Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a child.

 Centuries ago there lived

"A king!" my little readers will say immediately.

    No, children, you are mistaken.

 One of the earliest examples of speaking to the audience-in literary form, no less!

Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.

Because we want our kids to think that every time they toss a piece of wood into the fire to keep from freezing to death, they're ending the life of a potential little boy or girl playmate in a horrible way.
    I do not know how this really happened, yet the fact remains that one fine day this piece of wood found itself in the shop of an old carpenter. His real name was Mastro Antonio, but everyone called him Mastro Cherry, for the tip of his nose was so round and red and shiny that it looked like a ripe cherry.

I take it he was a heavy drinker.

    As soon as he saw that piece of wood, Mastro Cherry was filled with joy. Rubbing his hands together happily, he mumbled half to himself:

    "This has come in the nick of time. I shall use it to make the leg of a table."

    He grasped the hatchet quickly to peel off the bark and shape the wood. But as he was about to give it the first blow, he stood still with arm uplifted, for he had heard a wee, little voice say in a beseeching tone: "Please be careful! Do not hit me so hard!"

    What a look of surprise shone on Mastro Cherry's face! His funny face became still funnier.

Being kind of insulting to this guy, aren't you?

    He turned frightened eyes about the room to find out where that wee, little voice had come from and he saw no one! He looked under the bench--no one! He peeped inside the closet--no one! He searched among the shavings-- no one! He opened the door to look up and down the street--and still no one!

    "Oh, I see!" he then said, laughing and scratching his Wig. "It can easily be seen that I only thought I heard the tiny voice say the words! Well, well--to work once more."

....I find it odd that they felt it necessary to capitalize the word 'wig', as if to put emphasis on the fact that this guy had a toupee`. It's like they're purposely trying to make him look as stupid or ugly as possible. Did they have a personal issue with this guy or something?

    He struck a most solemn blow upon the piece of wood. "Oh, oh! You hurt!" cried the same far-away little voice.

    Mastro Cherry grew dumb, his eyes popped out of his head, his mouth opened wide, and his tongue hung down on his chin.


    As soon as he regained the use of his senses, he said, trembling and stuttering from fright:

    "Where did that voice come from, when there is no one around? Might it be that this piece of wood has learned to weep and cry like a child? I can hardly believe it. Here it is--a piece of common firewood, good only to burn in the stove, the same as any other. Yet-- might someone be hidden in it? If so, the worse for him. I'll fix him!"

    With these words, he grabbed the log with both hands and started to knock it about unmercifully. He threw it to the floor, against the walls of the room, and even up to the ceiling.

So your first reaction to someone possibly being trapped inside a piece of wood is to throw it around and abuse it horribly in an effort to hurt whoever is stuck within? I...I think you need help, man.

    He listened for the tiny voice to moan and cry. He waited two minutes--nothing; five minutes-- nothing; ten minutes--nothing.

    "Oh, I see," he said, trying bravely to laugh and ruffling up his wig with his hand. "It can easily be seen I only imagined I heard the tiny voice! Well, well--to work once more!"

And he dismisses it as his own brain creating figments for him to hear as if he's used to odd voices and such popping out at him. I really think this guy needs to see someone about this.

    The poor fellow was scared half to death, so he tried to sing a gay song in order to gain courage.

    He set aside the hatchet and picked up the plane to make the wood smooth and even, but as he drew it to and fro, he heard the same tiny voice. This time it giggled as it spoke:

    "Stop it! Oh, stop it! Ha, ha, ha! You tickle my stomach."

    This time poor Mastro Cherry fell as if shot. When he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on the floor.

    His face had changed; fright had turned even the tip of his nose from red to deepest purple.

....Well then. Clearly the man has issues, and it seems rather alarming to me that he kept the piece of wood that was talking to him, rather than pitching it into a fireplace.

Next chapter coming soon!

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Beauty and the Beast argument-Belle's Eyes

*sigh* I've noticed something that's been showing up on a few blogs, TVtropes, some Disney wiki pages and a lot of other places, that has started up trolling, flamewars and worse. Something that isn't even a big deal.

What is this thing that is so incendiary that people are spending hours trashing each other over it? The color of Belle's eyes from Beauty and the Beast. No, I'm not kidding.

Evidently, there are two factions-one who believes they are brown, one who believes they are hazel. Personally, I think they're brown-all the concept art of her I've seen has had her with brown eyes, and they are brown in the original film, along with the sequels *shudder* which, while they didn't stick to model as far as behavior, the characters still LOOKED like themselves from the original. Also, in an interview with Paige O'Hara, the voice of Belle, she explicitly states that they're brown. Also, when applying at Disney parks to play the part of Belle in the costuming/character department, they prefer you to have brown eyes or be able to wear brown colored contacts-I applied for the position once. Didn't have the acting training for it though, so bleh. Anywho, there's that argument for the brown, along with all the cover art for the various movies, which I will post below.

The hazel argument is mostly based on the new edition of the film that came out on dvd, which was remastered and reformatted. In it, her eyes appear a greenish-brown(though the cover art still shows them as brown), and several disney products that have come out since (plushies, blankets and such) have had her eyes a light green, though several still display brown. This is where the argument splits-some believe they were always meant to be hazel, and that the brown shown in the original is just because of bad film quality from that day and age. Others believe it was ret-conned, and they decided to be more diverse, since no Princess has had hazel eyes before and they thought they should have one. Granted, Disney has retconned eye color before (Aurora, I believe, now officially has purple eyes rather than blue to make her stand out a bit more from Cinderella) but I digress.

In my personal opinion, this is not that big a frakkin' deal. If you want to draw her with hazel eyes, go ahead. If you want to draw her with brown eyes, no problem! If it's a matter of the wiki and tv trope page descriptions-Why not simply place down under eye color on the description page "There is a disagreement as to her official eye color-they have been noted as both brown and hazel in color. Either is acceptable." There. Argument solved. Enough with the trolling and flame wars over something so trivial! Eye color was integral to the Beast-it was how he was recognizable after his transformation-but it's not for her. Her eye color wasn't so important to the character that changing it would completely change who she was or anything like that, so what's the big deal? Just pick what you like best, draw it as that, and move on. If someone else has a different opinion than you-well, everyone has different opinions, even close friends! For example, one of my friends and fellow artists loves Spongebob. I hate, loathe, ABHOR Spongebob and wouldn't be caught dead watching it. Guess what? We're still friends!

And now people are fighting over the Vinyl Scratch character from My Little Pony's eye color too. Geez. Love and tolerate, guys!

This is probably a very long winded way to say that people need to shut up and move on from arguing over this one minor, inconsequential detail, but no one seems to be paying attention. Le sigh.

Here is the cover art from various releases/sequels/midquels, all belonging to Disney:

A little pixelated, but her eyes are pretty obviously brown, and the same shade as her hair.

Platinum Edition Release-Clearly brown here, matching her hair's shade perfectly.

Once again, clearly brown, and the same shade as her hair.

A little tougher to tell here, but they're the same exact color as her hair, which is brown.

Quite obviously brown here.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

The Wise Little Girl

This one comes to us from the Grimm collection, one of the most well-known and beloved collections of children's stories for centuries.

The Wise Little Girl

   Once upon a time in the immense Russian steppe, lay a little village where nearly all the inhabitants bred horses. It was the month of October, when a big livestock market was held yearly in the main town. Two brothers, one rich and the other one poor, set off for market. The rich man rode a stallion, and the poor brother a young mare.

One would hope they were intelligent enough to not stable them together...

   At dusk, they stopped beside an empty hut and tethered their horses outside, before going to sleep themselves on two heaps of straw. Great was their surprise, when, next morning they saw three horses outside, instead of two. Well, to be exact the newcomer was not really a horse. It was a foal, to which the mare had given birth during the night. Soon it had the strength to struggle to its feet, and after a drink of its mother's milk, the foal staggered its first few steps. The stallion greeted it with a cheerful whinny, and when the two brothers set eyes on it for the first time, the foal was standing beside the stallion.

Neither of them noticed the mare getting a bit heavy around the middle? Rather unobservant. 

   "It belongs to me!" exclaimed Dimitri, the rich brother, the minute he saw it. "It's my stallion's foal." Ivan, the poor brother, began to laugh.

   "Whoever heard of a stallion having a foal? It was born to my mare!"

   "No, that's not true! It was standing close to the stallion, so it's the stallion's foal. And therefore it's mine!" 

Clearly, someone failed biology in school, or has been reading too much fanfiction. Just a hint, guy, dudes don't have babies. That goes for horses as well. 

The brothers started to quarrel, then they decided to go to town and bring the matter before the judges. Still arguing, they headed for the big square where the courtroom stood. But what they didn't know was that it was a special day, the day when, once a year, the Emperor himself administered the law. He himself received all who came seeking justice. The brothers were ushered into his presence, and they told him all about the dispute.

   Of course, the Emperor knew perfectly well who was the owner of the foal. He was on the point of proclaiming in favor of the poor brother, when suddenly Ivan developed an unfortunate twitch in his eye. The Emperor was greatly annoyed by this familiarity by a humble peasant, and decided to punish Ivan for his disrespect.

How is having an unfortunate twitch in one's eye disrespectful? Is having a tremble to your fingers or happening to have a birthmark also a sign of disrespect? If the eye twitch made it look like he was winking, that's somewhat understandable, but it's not specified. 

 After listening to both sides of the story, he declared it was difficult, indeed impossible, to say exactly who was the foal's rightful owner. And being in the mood for a spot of fun, and since he loved posing riddles and solving them as well, to the amusement of his counselors, he exclaimed.

   "I can't judge which of you should have the foal, so it will be awarded to whichever of you solves the following four riddles: what is the fastest thing in the world? What is the fattest? What's the softest and what is the most precious? I command you to return to the palace in a week's time with your answers!" Dimitri started to puzzle over the answers as soon as he left the courtroom. When he reached home, however, he realized he had nobody to help him.

   "Well, I'll just have to seek help, for if I can't solve these riddles, I'll lose the foal!" Then he remembered a woman, one of his neighbors, to whom he had once lent a silver ducat. That had been some time ago, and with the interest, the neighbor now owed him three ducats. And since she had a reputation for being quick-witted, but also very astute, he decided to ask her advice, in exchange for canceling part of her debt. But the woman was not slow to show how astute she really was, and promptly demanded that the whole debt be wiped out in exchange for the answers.

Clever woman. Also a rare show of brains on the rich brother's part, seeking help from someone more intelligent than himself rather than letting his pride get in the way.

   "The fastest thing in the world is my husband's bay horse," she said. "Nothing can beat it! The fattest is our pig! Such a huge beast has never been seen! The softest is the quilt I made for the bed, using my own goose's feathers. It's the envy of all my friends. The most precious thing in the world is my three-month old nephew. There isn't a more handsome child. I wouldn't exchange him for all the gold on earth, and that makes him the most precious thing on earth!"

.....Lady, the Emperor probably doesn't know you, or of your horse and such, so those answers would mean nothing to him. 

   Dimitri was rather doubtful about the woman's answers being correct. On the other hand, he had to take some kind of solution back to the Emperor. And he guessed, quite rightly, that if he didn't, he would be punished.

   In the meantime, Ivan, who was a widower, had gone back to the humble cottage where he lived with his small daughter. Only seven years old, the little girl was often left alone, and as a result, was thoughtful and very clever for her age. The poor man took the little girl into his confidence, for like his brother, he knew he would never be able to find the answers by himself. The child sat in silence for a moment, then firmly said.

   "Tell the Emperor that the fastest thing in the world is the cold north wind in winter. The fattest is the soil in our fields whose crops give life to men and animals alike, the softest thing is a child's caress and the most precious is honesty."

Leave it to a child to figure out the simple, yet not-so-easy solution.

   The day came when the two brothers were to return before the Emperor. They were led into his presence. The Emperor was curious to hear what they had to say, but he roared with laughter at Dimitri's foolish answers. However, when it was Ivan's turn to speak, a frown spread over the Emperor's face. The poor brother's wise replies made him squirm, especially the last one, about honesty, the most precious thing of all. The Emperor knew perfectly well that he had been dishonest in his dealings with the poor brother, for he had denied him justice. But he could not bear to admit it in front of his own counselors, so he angrily demanded:

   "Who gave you these answers?" Ivan told the Emperor that it was his small daughter. Still annoyed, the great man said.

   "You shall be rewarded for having such a wise and clever daughter. You shall be awarded the foal that your brother claimed, together with a hundred silver ducats... But... but..." and the Emperor winked at his counselors.

   "You will come before me in seven days' time, bringing your daughter. And since she's so clever, she must appear before me neither naked nor dressed, neither on foot nor on horseback, neither bearing gifts nor empty-handed. And if she does this, you will have your reward. If not, you'll have your head chopped off for your impudence!"

Wow, someone needs to dethrone this guy. First he's dishonest because someone's eye twitched, then he gets upset about honesty being mentioned because he knows he's a liar, and instead of having the courage and HONESTY to come forth with what he did, he gives someone an impossible task and says he'll kill the guy if it can't be done? What. A. Prick.
   The onlookers began to laugh, knowing that the poor man would never to able to fulfill the Emperor's conditions. Ivan went home in despair, his eyes brimming with tears. But when he had told his daughter what had happened, she calmly said.

   "Tomorrow, go and catch a hare and a partridge. Both must be alive! You'll have the foal and the hundred silver ducats! Leave it to me!" Ivan did as his daughter said. He had no idea what the two creatures were for, but he trusted in his daughter's wisdom.

Generally, if the kid's right the first time, they'll be right again. Kudos to him for trusting her, though he doesn't understand what it is she wants.

   On the day of the audience with the Emperor, the palace was thronged with bystanders, waiting for Ivan and his small daughter to arrive. At last, the little girl appeared, draped in a fishing net, riding the hare and holding the partridge in her hand.

Hold the phone...she's riding the hare? Riding. A hare. Either that's a tiny kid or one big frakkin' hare!

 She was neither naked nor dressed, on foot or on horseback. Scowling, the Emperor told her.

   "I said neither bearing gifts nor empty-handed!" At these words, the little girl held out the partridge. The Emperor stretched out his hand to grasp it, but the bird fluttered into the air. The third condition had been fulfilled. In spite of himself, the Emperor could not help admiring the little girl who had so cleverly passed such a test, and in a gentler voice, he said.

   "Is your father terribly poor, and does he desperately need the foal?"

   "Oh, yes!" replied the little girl. "We live on the hares he catches in the rivers and the fish he picks from the trees!"

....actually, I've heard and seen stranger.

   "Aha!" cried the Emperor triumphantly. "So you're not as clever as you seem to be! Whoever heard of hares in the river and fish in the trees!" To which the little girl swiftly replied:

   "And whoever heard of a stallion having a foal?" At that, both Emperor and Court burst into peals of laughter. Ivan was immediately given his hundred silver ducats and the foal, and the Emperor proclaimed.

   "Only in my kingdom could such a wise little girl be born!"

And thus the kid proves she's a thousand times smarter than the Emperor admits to be, since she could easily figure out that stallions don't give birth to foals, which the Emperor, to the eyes of his advisers and those who were watching, couldn't figure out.

The End

I'm guessing the moral for this one has something to do with honesty, but the Emperor is dishonest and doesn't seem to get any flak for it.

Saturday, June 9, 2012


So, as some of you may have noticed, we have a lovely new header-I went to and, thanks to a few commissions I got, I now have a tablet! It's a lot smaller than the ones I've used in the past, which is taking some getting used to, but it's usable, and it's smoooooth. I may buy a bigger one in the future, but if this thing continues working as well as it has so far, then Monoprice will have my customer loyalty FOREVER.

In any case, artwork will be appearing on the site now! The two characters you can see there are B.W., the former Big Bad Wolf (he dropped Bad from his title after he stopped, y'know, being bad, and so he was just known as Big Wolf, so everyone calls him B.W.) and Princess (I think I'll just leave that as her name, sort've as a statement about how so many princesses/maidens in stories never get names...and I can't think of what to call her), who I may have doing reviews of stories in the future-sort've like MST3K, but with faerie tales.

So anyway, hope you guys like the art, and expect to see a lot more in the future as long as the tablet holds out!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


So, a dear friend of mine from DA pointed me towards monoprice, a website with computer accessories and such that manufactures their own drawing tablets, which have gotten magnificent reviews, and they are CHEAP. I've ordered a really small one for now-only 5x6ish...but I may order a bigger one later if it works well and I can afford it. So, I should have a new tablet within a few days or so and be able to get to drawing for the blog! Woot!

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Lady Rogue's Handbook

Lady Rogue's Handbook

After reading the Rogue's Handbook at , I found that it was rather lacking in advice for those of us of the fairer sex-most of it was fairly good advice for one of either gender, but there were a few that specifically catered to males. So, this one is for the ladies!

Bit of an old one that I wrote on my old old OLD deviantart account (Arialyne, if you're curious-that's my old artwork. My new gallery is under the username AlienMink) and have decided to post here.

Anyway, advice for the Lady Rogue!

I will not masquerade as a heroine, as that would encourage the villain to target me first. I'll let the Hero take point.

I will not join the side of the Villain. He would either be abusive towards me, or I would be killed in the crossfire of his and the Hero's epic final battle.

If we are attacked, I will be sure to give at least one loud shriek so the Hero's natural instinct to protect damsels in distress will kick in and I'll have a nice solid shield of flesh swinging a sword around for me and attracting our attacker's attention while I quietly dispatch the enemies I can reach while staying behind him.


I WILL NOT HAVE SEX WITH THE HERO. Doing such would make him declare me his one true love, and he would spend all his time trying to convince me to leave my rougish ways behind to become the ideal woman to marry him and have his children, and that would get REALLY damn annoying! Or he'd get me pregnant, which would be even worse.

I WILL NOT BECOME THE HERO'S ONE TRUE LOVE. While it would grant me a great deal of protection by the Hero, the aforementioned convincing would become very annoying, and I would be a prime target for the Villain either to kidnap for ransom or to kill to emotionally destroy the Hero, or I may end up sacrificing myself for him at the end. Any of these outcomes are unacceptable.

I will not compete with the hero's real One True Love. It would eventually culminate in a fight between us in which the Hero would choose his One True Love over me, and I would either be killed or end up losing their loyalty and having to regain it through some cheesy grand gesture, which is totally unacceptable.

I will not dress particularly provocatively or act in an excessively sexualized manner. This would only attract attention from undesirables and possibly get me kidnapped to be a sex slave.

I will keep herbs, medications or any other supplies needed to deal with 'feminine' problems at all times, particularly cramps. While it would be amusing as hell to see the Hero's face when I explain to him that no, I have not been poisoned, my abdominal pain is caused from ovulation, letting it be known in any way that I am fertile would undoubtedly cause me to be kidnapped and raped by the Villain to produce a heir. I will not allow it to be known when I am fertile.

Pertaining to the last one, I will not tell the Hero or Villain I am sterile because of some kind of accident, wound or any other reason. They would undoubtedly prove me wrong.

If we ever have to attend a ball, I will not dance with the Hero. He would unavoidably fall in love with me, particularly if I blushed on any occasion.

I will not blush around the Hero or Villain. They will fall for me, and either one would be a disaster.

I will not sing for any reason, unless the song is a dirty tavern ditty. I will not sing anything pertaining to my past for any reason. The sound of my heartfelt songs would cause SOMEONE to fall in love with me, and it would be a real pain in the ass. Barring that, the Hero would undoubtedly try to pick apart the subtle clues in the songs and try to uncover who I am, and as he learns more about me he'll most likely fall in love with me. Keep yourself a mystery and keep the man-paws off!

If I keep a cute animal sidekick, it will not be something like a bunny or a kitten. It will be cute, but able to defend itself if it needs to, and I will not become particularly attached to it as they have a tendency of being killed. I will also not keep any cute animal sidekick that can't do anything useful. It will also not be too big to simply grab and run with without being weighed down, like a goat or something similar. The only exceptions to this will be bears, tigers or other animals that can really kick ass and can run on their own, and possibly carry me to safety if I need it.

If I get a bounty hunter chasing me, I will not try to seduce him unless absolutely necessary. Most bounty hunters aren't all that attractive anyway, and they won't give up the chase if you show them the night of their lives. In fact, that will only make them chase you more determinedly or fall in love with you. Letting anyone fall in love with you is a real pain.

I will not get drunk with the Hero. We'll end up waking up in a bed together and he'll try to take responsibility for it rather than just putting his clothes back on and forgetting it happened.

I will never offer to trade myself for the Hero, or throw myself in front of him and beg for his life. This will end badly.

I will not hum to myself and take my time bathing in a hot spring or pool out in the woods, where there are places for peeping toms to hide. If I absolutely must take a bath in the woods, I will get in and out of the water as fast as possible, and not do anything remotely provocative while bathing. Both the Hero and Villain would only be attracted to such behavior.

I will not borrow the Hero or Villain's clothes if mine are destroyed or covered in filth beyond repair. For some reason they find it attractive. Instead I will steal some of the Hero's money and buy new ones, or just steal them.

I will never act innocent or heartbroken around the Hero. For some reason Heroes tend to fall in love with the first female they spend extended time with unless they're particularly old or evil, and acting innocent or as if I have had my heart broken in the past will only make it worse.

I will not wear long flowing dresses. They will only get caught on things constantly, make it difficult to run and make me a more likely target for kidnapping, as any attractive non-evil female in a dress=instant love interest.

I will not accept any gifts from the Hero unless I can sell them at once, particularly jewelry that belonged to someone he cared about, has been passed down through his family or have some other emotional value or meaning to him. Lockets and rings on a necklace chain are HUGE no-nos.

If the Hero starts to show romantic interest in me I will promptly kick him in the balls and relieve him of his silly ideas.

If the Villain shows romantic interest in me I will not try to use it to my advantage.

I will under no circumstances allow myself to get pregnant. I would immediately become the most valuable target to the Villain, whether the child was his or the Hero's, and my movement would be impeded after the first few weeks to the point that I would be almost completely helpless, to say nothing of the pain of the childbirth and having to deal with a screaming bundle of headaches.

I will never act motherly or like a big sister to the Hero's One True Love, or a small child we happen across who tags along with us for a while. Emotional attachment would ultimately become my downfall.

I will never cry or become emotional around the Hero for any reason. I will keep large quantities of chocolate on hand in case it's that time of the month and I need something to suppress the emotional side effects of it.

If the Hero is engaged in battle and effectively keeping all the enemies distracted, I will use the opportunity to steal everything of value I can fit in my pockets.

I will be sure to have an outfit with several pockets. Possibly a belt with multiple pouches on it as well.

Good News Everyone!

As Professor Farnsworth would say. :3

I did a bit of digging, and evidently even if the company using them only boasts a thirty day return policy, Amazon will still take the item back and give a full refund if it is nonworking or otherwise returned for whatever reason, so I'm returning the dysfunctional drawing tablet and, with the refund, SHOULD be able to get a new tablet within a decent time frame! The UPS guy should be coming to pick it up tomorrow, and as soon as they have confirmation that the UPS guy has in fact picked it up, they will refund me within a few days.

I cannot properly articulate how this makes me feel, so I'll let the Professor do it for me:

Friday, June 1, 2012

Tablet Issue

So-after calling, calling again, waiting and calling some more, I finally got the replacement pen for my drawing tablet, which should be a YAAAAAY!

Unfortunately, it turns out the problem isn't the pen at all-it's the tablet itself, and they're certainly not going to replace that unless I buy a new one. The sensors in it are dead or something, I'm not sure, but the light will come on and blink when I plug it into the computer, the drivers are installed and functioning, but as soon as I bring the pen near it the light either goes off completely or it comes on and stays on, and it won't move the cursor a single pixel.

So, still not able to do any drawings other than those little mouse-drawn dot things like in the post about the cardboard cutout (which he's STILL moving around the office and trying to scare me with, and his dad found out about it and laughed his head off) until I get a new tablet. Well, that'll teach me to buy used...

Until I've either saved up enough for a brand new tablet, or I get one from a fellow artist on Deviantart who may be selling me hers cheap (she's promised that it works well, and it's a Bamboo, which tend to last longer and be a lot better, but I would like to do it all through ebay so that if it doesn't work I can return it and there will be accountability on both our parts), I still won't be able to do the drawings, unless someone knows what's going on with the tablet and can tell me how to fix it? I've never encountered this problem before-my old old OLD tablet, that got destroyed in a house fire, stopped working all of once, and it was the pen that died. New pen and it worked great for years, until it was melted into a plastic pancake. I've never had an issue with this weird light behaving so oddly in reaction to a pen being near it, and just refusing to let the cursor move at all.

So, just letting you guys know that it'll probably be a while longer, I'm not sure how long, before I can post any artwork. I'm sorry. D8