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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:05:10 GMT -5
I'm writing a series of short stories that are Earth fairy tales with Neopian flair. I've finished Cinderella and was hoping that some of you could read it and give comments and suggestions on it. Thanks!
"Neopian Faerie Tales I--Cinderella"
I am Ella, a young white Flotsam; yet I am not just any Flotsam, but one with a story to tell. My story is not just any story. In fact, it is one of the most unique of any pet’s. At the time, I had had two owners, both kind, reasonable, wonderful owners. Both had abandoned me suddenly, without any warnings, but both seemed grieved at my loss, and I never really blamed them for doing what they did. As I stayed in the Pound after, I sat in despair, bitterly disappointed and confused, but not in the least bit angry; I had been very loyal and tended to think that my owner was nearly always in the right. As I sat there, trying bravely to keep back the salty tears that soon moistened my smooth cheeks, I thought that nothing could console me, and, should I ever get past my misery and exit the hateful Pound, that I would never again complain. It was the most wrong assumption I had ever made. I had long since dried my eyes when a woman came along. She had tangled, black, thick hair like tar that hung loosely down her back. Her eyes were a careful balance of cold and fire, which made their stare penetrating, frightful, but intriguing; something restless was in that stare, trying to break free. Those thrilling, terrible eyes held the most beautiful color I had ever seen: a deep, dark, murky purple, nearly black, but not quite. The pet that followed her was a blue Uni who wore a smug smirk that I instinctively did not trust. The woman grabbed me by the handle of the cage, carried me to Rose at the adoption desk, and thrust some coins onto the desk. “Maurecia, run home and prepare her room,” the woman said, and the Uni at the woman’s side instantly fled. “Well. Ella.” The woman exhaled and brusquely marched out of the Pound. “I am Victoria.” “Hello…Victoria,” I said hesitantly. “Mistress,” she quickly corrected. “Yes, of course,” I breathed as if I had made the most obvious mistake in the world. “Mistress.” We traversed the seas for a brief time and arrived at a NeoHome in Meridell that reminded me more of a castle than a NeoHome. As I was still in the cage, there was no way that I could see too much; the cage was very small and cramped, not allowing me much room to turn and observe the place that looked as if a faerie tale waited there, waiting to unfold. The inside of the building was just like I thought a medieval manor must be like—or at least what I could see of it, for it was difficult to observe the vast halls that were still, as if they were paintings of rooms and not actual rooms, that danced like sour candy in front of my bewildered eyes. Victoria strode up some stairs and into a room. Maurecia was there, supervising a robo pet’s work. The robot surprised me; it did not fit the rest of the house. “Excuse us, Maurecia,” Victoria said, staring coldly down at the blue Uni. “You may leave now.” Maurecia hastily exited, pulling the robot after her. Victoria sighed, shook her head, and muttered something to herself that I could not decipher. She closed the door, gingerly unlocked the cage, and swung open the door. Carefully, I exited the cage and felt the cold marble under me. “Your room,” Victoria said almost graciously, sweeping her arm across the room gracefully. Then, more fiercely, she spat, “Unless you prove yourself unworthy. Make yourself look presentable. Come down to the dining hall at four o’clock sharp.” I inwardly cowered at her frightening words, but I stood my ground and looked up at her nearly expectantly, waiting for something to happen; yet nothing did except that Victoria swooped down, picked up the cage, and swiftly swept herself out the door. The breath I’d unconsciously been holding released itself then, swirling about the room, searching for a way to escape into fresh, free, light air. However, the room was windowless and the door was tightly shut.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:06:39 GMT -5
I hopped backwards onto the fine bed and studied the room closely. <I>Hmm…Very fine marble floor and fine little toys…nice dresser and table and bed. Why am I not worthy?</I> I thought. Admittedly, I was a little conceited in those days although that was quickly corrected by Victoria, and I was inclined to self-pity. I honestly thought that I was perfect and that my behavior was exemplary. It wasn’t terrible, of course, but there was much room for improvement, and I was totally oblivious to that fact. The clock that hung over the bed told me that it was ten minutes until four, so I sprang into action. There was a little pink vanity desk in the corner that did not agree with the rest of the decorations but served its purposes. I drew in a long breath, exhaled it quickly, and dashed over to it. Cosmetics galore were lined neatly up in the drawers and on the tabletop. I thought of myself as a more natural beauty, but Veronica’s words, “Make yourself look presentable,” still stung me. I wasn’t presentable? The very thought of it hurt my sensitive little soul. With the subtle insult still in mind and heart, I hesitantly took a mirror and held it up. I thought I looked fine, but since apparently I wasn’t, I bathed myself, brushed my teeth, and performed all other acts of beauty. When I was finished, I slowly, almost not daring, reached a trembling flipper toward the mirror. With a burst of courage, I snatched the looking glass, clutching it as if my life depended solely upon it, which, although I was then ignorant to the fact, was partly true, and looked at the reflection of the creature in the glass. I shrieked and dropped it with a clatter. No, I wasn’t ugly; I just wasn’t—myself. I peered back into it again, surveying my enhanced features closely, to find that I looked better than I ever had before. I decided that I liked it. A tentative, insecure smile crawled unwillingly onto my lips; then, I lost it, and I shuddered, the mirror slipping out of my grasp and clinking onto the desk. The clock told me that it was one minute before four, so I shrugged my shoulders and quietly left the room. The dining hall was easy to find, and I stood in its vast, ominous malice. The huge table was firmly planted on the ground and seemed to me as if it laughed at me. Chairs neatly rested around the perimeter of the table, perfectly aligned with the place settings that were precisely laid. The chairs were reproachful of me as well. I didn’t like it from the very start, and in later days, I feared to enter into that room because I knew that room did not like me even though the rest of the castle’s atmosphere was tainted with the sense of impending doom and hatred also. Victoria made a grand entrance with her characteristic swoosh and looked at me critically and disapprovingly. “You were early,” she growled. “Always be precisely on time, never too early, never too late, and you will always be successful. Remember that.” She paused slightly. “Of course, always remember that on certain occasions, you must be fashionably late. Big parties…” her voice trailed off. Then, with a flick of her hand, “Now. Come and let me see what you have done with yourself.” “Yes, mistress,” I said in a quavering voice. To my joy, I saw a flash of approval flicker faintly across her face. I was so nervous, though, that I clumsily stumbled as I approached her, which sent her expression plunging into the depths of displeasure. I recoiled, but continued on, coming to a stop right in front of her. She grabbed my face and stared at it, her expression unreadable, and fear crept into my heart. It must have showed, for, after what seemed like an eternity, she let go of my face and murmured something that sounded like, “Weak coward.” Although this did not at all comfort me, I relaxed and let all fright sink out of me. Victoria turned toward me again and said, “Well, Ella, I don’t suppose I’ll abandon you.” I wasn’t sure whether to jump for joy or burst out in tears. “Yet I will not exactly adopt you, either.” This puzzled me. Was that possible? “No, instead you must work for me and be my slave. I’m in need of a maid, and you’ll do, I suppose. Everyone else will believe me to be your stepmother, but no matter.” “Huh? I mean—excuse me, mistress?” I asked, quickly remembering the primness of Victoria’s life. “I mean just what I said. I <I>always</I> mean just what I say. Remember that.” “Yes, mistress,” I replied, my heart sinking to my stomach. “Now—your room will be turned into something—I’m not sure yet what. Instead, I shall assign you the corner of the kitchen. I have a small cot you can sleep on and a chair. I suppose you must keep the desk in order for you to keep yourself looking decent. “Yes, yes, let’s see, now…that will be all.” Thus began my life as a maid.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:07:51 GMT -5
*** Triumphantly, I glowered at the feeble, scowling fire that danced reluctantly before me. I carefully fed it with some wood, and it reached out and bit me on the flipper. “Curse you,” I muttered as I ran to the sink to soothe my burn with cold water. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…” The fire flickered back at me sassily as I dried my flipper and dropped some more wood in it. It roared, laughing at me, I could tell. I glared and fell back on my cot. Victoria swooshed in as normal. “CINDERELLA!” she yelled, giving me a start. “MAKE YOURSELF LOOK PRESENTABLE, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKES, AND DON’T BE LAZY!” My calm nature had been temporarily corrupted that day for reasons I still do not know. My short temper nearly took over, but I controlled it and dealt with my frustration in a slightly subtler way. I grunted and dragged myself off the cot. “Yeesh,” I mumbled. “All right…but don’t I deserve a break now and then?” Victoria wrinkled her nose and scowled, but said nothing as she zipped gracefully out of the kitchen. I looked in my mirror and sighed. My face was covered in ash and soot, my flippers in burns and calluses from the labor that Victoria made me perform. For the last month, I had cooked, dusted, set fires, swept, mopped, scrubbed, wiped, polished, washed—served. It was a life I did not enjoy, but I had endured it thus far. What could I do? I washed myself and made myself look sufficient, then continued doing my chores as I wistfully thought of what had happened to the beautiful, fair, perfect Flotsam of yore. One of these chores happened to be in the parlor, where Maurecia and Veronica were sitting, having a boring, idle, “lady-like” conversation. While I was there, Guinivere, a blue Acara and Victoria’s other pet, raced grandly into the room and made an announcement: an announcement that would forever change my life. “The Prince is holding a ball!” she squealed, hardly able to contain her excitement. I shrugged it off, secretly wishing to go, but knowing that it would be impossible. A scarred-for-life-by-Lupes Chia would sooner go up to a random Lupe and hug it around the neck than Victoria would allow me to attend the ball. They started chattering about their dresses and such, and I tuned out. The ball was to be in two suns, but I didn’t much care. At least I could have a quiet evening all to myself. This rarely happened; they nearly always got someone to stay and look after me and ensure that my chores were completed. The night of the ball, finally, arrived. Although I denied the importance of the event, I still flopped down onto my cot and wept. My tears stopped, though, when I heard rustling in the garden when I knew that there was not even the slightest breeze. I carefully slipped out the door and into the garden. I sat on the bench, a little light-headed. Something caught my eye. It was golden. “Hello!” I called. A shriek arose from the bushes, and a large light faerie, a little pudgy and very different from other faeries, emerged. “Oh! Was that me?” she giggled. “I’m sorry…you frightened me so.” “I didn’t mean to,” I said. “Who are you?” “Borta. A light faerie—well, in one way, I am. Your faerie godmother.” She erupted into giggles again. “I’m not so good at giving quests and all that faerie stuff, so the Uber Light Faerie appealed to Fyora, who made me a sort of official faerie godmother to you. You’re lucky. There aren’t that many pets with faerie godmothers. They’re rare.”
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:08:32 GMT -5
“Oh, yes, it’s true,” she went on. “There’s no need to look at me like that. Anyway, I’m here to grant your wish; you are to go to the ball.” She said some magical words and swooshed a wand. I suddenly found myself clean and clothed beautifully. A coach and fine horses appeared and I found myself whisked into it and off to the ball. “Mind you, come back before midnight!” Borta called after me. “The spell’s off, then…” I sat, in a daze, in the coach as it cut through the frosty air like a knife would cut through an iced cake. The air was pungent with a faint, gentle smell of vanilla as I became oblivious and yet aware of the blurring world around me; I peered out from the warm glow of the coach to the velvet blackness that enshrouded the world. It wasn’t until I had made my entrance into the ballroom that I finally accepted the fact that I was at the ball with the moon suddenly in my grasp. I had a glorious time that night. I marveled at the jealous stares that my sisters, unknowing of my true identity, shot at me as the Prince himself danced with me. He was a yellow Flotsam with a wonderfully kindly look about him, and we danced, and it was perfectly heavenly. It was only ten minutes before I believed that I must have been in heaven, whizzing by the stars on wings of golden love. Then, I blew it. The clock was about to strike midnight when I suddenly remembered about the spell. I was conversing with the Prince, and we were having a delightful time when I suddenly said, “Oh, my…I must go,” and raced out of the ballroom. I jumped into the coach and zipped on home, and it wasn’t until I was there that I realized that one of my glass flipper slippers had evaded me.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:09:11 GMT -5
“Oh, Fyora,” I muttered. “Borta!” more loudly. “Borta, where are you…?” My call was interrupted by the voice of a gentle breeze in the garden. “Borta!” I breathed upon arriving at the garden. “Borta, I…” There was nothing, and I realized with a gasp that I was again clad in the old rags that Victoria had given me. “Did you have a lovely time?” a pleasant voice suddenly resounded, and Borta made a rather awkward magical appearance. “Erm…yes,” I replied. “Yet…it will never happen again and the Prince will never see me again. Could you—” “Oh! Dearie me.” She chuckled. “Could I get back to you on that one? I’m not allowed to deal with important things—like princes and whatnot. You met him, right? And you danced and had an evening clothed with lovely things. That was your wish.” “But now—” I started desperately, but stopped and said sadly, “Now, I wish that my life—that my life was clothed with lovely things. What does an evening matter in the course of a lifetime?” “It gave you a memory,” Borta said soothingly as I plopped onto the garden bench. “Something to cling to to comfort and torture you.” “No kidding,” I said bitterly. “It will torture and tantalize me forever. No thanks to you.” Tears stung my pride almost as deeply as Borta, with all her frivolity and wish granting, had stung my soul. “Ellie,” she said, her normal cheer strengthening her voice again, “your nice clothes all vanished except for that glass flipper slipper. He has a chance of finding you. In fact, I’ll attempt to show you something if I can get the whole magical picture thing right. Darn magic…” she muttered something as she waved her hands in the air, and some yellow smoke started trailing behind them. When the smoke cleared, I saw the Prince with an agitated look on his face. “I must find her,” he was saying. “I must. I must!” “Son,” sighed the King, “son, no one has ever seen her before. She’s probably someone foreign, from Terror Mountain or someplace.” The Prince shook his head. “No, Father,” he said firmly. “Her coach left in the opposite direction from all transportation away from here. She must live here.” “Eh, suit yourself,” the King mumbled. “So…with this slipper, I can find her. I know I can. I’m going to begin the search!” “Eh, suit yourself,” the King repeated. I watched the Prince race away from the room before Borta cleared away the image that hovered in the crisp air. “He’ll find you,” Borta said a little smugly, an expression that looked very strange on her. “He’ll find you.” It was those words that kept me motivated to keep living throughout the next day. Guinivere and Maurecia acted like curmudgeons the next day as they sulked, wept, and ordered me around with a renewed zeal for malice. I was hiding outside in the garden when I heard a knock come on the front door. Trained to be a butler, I quickly hurried inside and answered the door. It was the shock of my life to see the Prince standing eloquently at the doorstep of Victoria’s castle. He was smiling regally.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:09:34 GMT -5
“I’ve come to perform a test,” he said, and despite his cheerful expression, his voice concealed pain and sadness. “It is to find a certain girl…a girl who danced with me at my ball and gave me great pleasure. She dropped this.” As my heart beat so quickly that it seemed as if it would burst, he held out my glass flipper slipper. “The lady it fits…” he trailed off. “Mm—yes—all right, then—come in—I mean, please do come in and won’t you sit down—” I stammered, my clumsy tongue stumbling awkwardly over syllables of words that just wouldn’t come. “Thank you,” he said and flashed me a smile. “Does he know?” I asked myself silently. “There are other ladies here as well,” I said, trying to hide my bitterness. “They will be wanting to try this slipper on as well.” I felt like putting an eternal hex on Maurecia and Guinivere, but I had no desire to find out what would happen if I did not tell them that the Prince was here searching for someone. I felt afraid, nervous, blissfully happy, and giddy all at the same moment as I returned to the Prince. Maurecia first tried to shove her hoof into the flipper slipper. “It’s a flipper slipper, you idiot,” I muttered under my breath. “I should be the only one trying it on.” Maurecia’s hoof, for obvious reasons, could simply not fit into the dainty slipper. Guinivere’s foot obviously did not fit either, so it was soon my turn. I wanted to shut my eyes, but I couldn’t as I started inching my flipper toward the slipper. Time seemed to move too quickly and too slowly at the same time, emphasizing every small movement and sound I made. I felt the glass seep its smoothness and cold into my rubbery skin, and the glass soon hugged my flipper perfectly. As I forced myself to meet the eyes that pierced me with their gaze, I saw that the Prince did not look in the least bit surprised. His eyes held a deep joy in them, though, and he stood and walked over to me. “Let’s go home,” he said. THE END
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Post by Lappi on Dec 28, 2002 16:41:51 GMT -5
Oh, that was lovely. I always wondered why the magic worn off at midnight, and the slippers were still there. I like it! I'm sure it'll get in the Times... but boy, that was pretty long!! ^^ I like reading short stuff, but if it's by you, or any body else here, I'll read it!! Very nice. Err... *thinks* I'm glad you changed it a bit. It's better now.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:46:56 GMT -5
Thanks! ;D
Yeah, it is long, isn't it? Oh, well...
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Post by Lappi on Dec 28, 2002 16:51:18 GMT -5
O.O When you keep on changing your picture, I keep on thinking it's other people. I'm really used to a penguin.
Oh well, at least I recognised you! I thought you were leb for a minute, though.
^^ It's ok. Don't apologise, though.
Anyways, it's ok to be long. Very good. Where's the others... and just in case you need some titles/stories...
Three little... moehogs? No wait... yeah. Goldilox and the three... Skieths? Err... Robin Hood, who stole from the rich and gave to himself ;D Err... *thinks* Princesses... O.O Ponnocio (spelling!), even though it has nothing to do with Princesses. Pochohauntis (oh, gosh!), that was it!!
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:54:25 GMT -5
Thanks for the suggestions on more stories ;D.
I know you told me not to apologize, but I will anyway. Sorry! I'm just experimenting around with different faerie stuff. All my avatars are going to be faeries now. I'm starting out with Fyora and I think I've finally settled.
;D
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 16:57:14 GMT -5
Ooh! Goldilocks and the three Snorkles!!
With a plains Lupe (you know, from NeoQuest) as the wolf.
After I'm all set with Cinderella, I think that'll be my next project.
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 17:00:41 GMT -5
I can do Rapunzel as well. A Meerca can be Rapunzel and let down her long tail Anyway, that will be after the Three Little Snorkles. I have to pace myself. I tend to get excited over things and start them all at once and never finish them.
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Post by Lappi on Dec 28, 2002 18:42:03 GMT -5
Oh, that really cool Let's think of MOOORE!! ;D Faerie Tales... *thinks* I think there's one with rabbits! Be right back! *runs to book shelf* WOW! I have an entire set... The Ugly Malard! Then... no... the others can be malards, then the "ugly duckling" could be a... *thinks again* pawkeet? OH NO!! They took out the list in the petpet puddle! WE'RE ALL DOOMED!! >_< Wizard of Oz? Hey, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Wizardofaus? lol.. err... The Lion King? ("Hey! This isn't a Disney Picture area, it's a faerie tale place!") Buster Bunny COLORing book? Woah... ok... *tosses that book aside* Cinderella, check... Peter Pan! Muhahah... The Jungle Book O.O Honey Bears Camb Out... uhh... *blushes* I'll go get more... be right back again!
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Post by sollunaestrella on Dec 28, 2002 18:45:29 GMT -5
Hmm...Beauty and the Beast! The spell the Beast was under was being zapped mutant by the Lab Ray! The Beauty can be a regular pet or something ;D
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Post by Lappi on Dec 28, 2002 18:47:15 GMT -5
Oh! Little read riding hood! Maybe she could be a babaa and then Balthazar's after her and granny's lunchie! ^^
Maybe we could do the Cybunny or the snowbunny and the... Kiko? That wouldn't really be a faerie tale, but I'm getting mized up with Folk Tales.
I have a bookie called Borreguita and the Coyote... it has a sheep and a *duh* coyote on the cover. Let's see...
Err... no, I'm not reading it. I feel lazy, even though it's a picture bookie...
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