Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta satire. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta satire. Mostrar todas las entradas

martes, 5 de agosto de 2025

PINOCCHIO: EAT CACA, IL DUCE

 Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is an animated musical. When the irreverent wooden boy, now part of the circus of Count Volpe (The Fox, who is human in this universe) performs for Mussolini himself, he sings a satirical/scatological song and makes a performance full of toilet humour; Il Duce is not amused.

 


I fight for the landI fight overseaFor baby-poops-his-pantsRight there in front of me
The poop in hand 
for fatherlandIl Duce, Il DuceGo smell your farts and prayEat your boogers, your slime!You can also get mine!
Like a bag of poop, 
magnificent and freeYou are farting, farting 
in the men's lavatory!You're a poop, we are youngEat caca, big baby, 
eat caca, we are strong!
He poops on the landHe poops overseaBig-baby-poops-his-pantsHe's just doo-doo to meFarewell, Mussolini!Ciao, Il Duce!


Using his military helmet as a chamber pot


A caca puppet joins Pinocchio on stage

When he is supposed to go to war, he runs away to join a singing group, and when he is supposed to sing a beautiful song in front of Mussolini, he makes Mussolini furious with vulgar parodies of patriotic songs.

[LIGHTS! MUSIC! CURTAIN OPENS.

Once again Pinocchio rolls out on stage in a tank. He leaps out, dressed as a soldier!!

PINOCCHIO:

I fight for the land!

I fight oversea!

For baby-poops-his-pants

Right there in front of me!

Around Pinocchio marching marionettes appear; it’s a farting chorus line! Spazz puppeteers with delight!!!

MUSSOLINI: Poop?

The Right Hand Man shrugs.

RIGHT HAND MAN: Yes, poop Your Excellency.

PINOCCHIO (O.S.):

The poop in hand,

For Fatherland,

Il Duce, Il Duce

Go smell your farts and pray,

Eat your boogers, your slime

You can also get mine.

Volpe stands on the side of the stage clutching the script. Baffled. He is so nervous he takes a bite out of it.

A giant POOP MARIONETTE drops down from the catwalk and begins dancing alongside Pinocchio.

Mussolini is not happy. Candlewick laughs uproariously. But his smiles fades under the gaze of the Podestà.

PINOCCHIO:

Like a bag of poop, magnificent and free —

You are farting, farting in the men’s lavatory.

You’re a poop! We are young!

Eat caca! Big baby!

Eat caca! We are strong.

SPAZZATURA (MONKEY): (echoing) Caca!

A giant Mussolini backdrop flies in. But this time it is vandalized and insulting. It says "Sua Escremenza," His Excremency

Pinocchio flushes himself, twirling down an oversized toilet.

Song ends. The kids go wild. Count Volpe is so nervous he takes a bite out of the script. Everyone waits to see Mussolini’s reaction.

Mussolini quietly turns to his Right Hand Man.

MUSSOLINI: These a’ puppets I do not like. Shoot him. And burn it all down.

The Right Hand Man pulls out a pistol, cocks it, and fires at Pinocchio.]


*************************

This musical number reminded me of the parodies of Christmas carols found in The Simpsons:

Joy to the world,
the teacher's dead...
We barbecued her head!
What happened to her body?
We flushed it down the potty,
and round and round it goes,
and round and round it goes...
NELSON MUNTZ

Jingle bells,
Batman smells,
Robin laid an egg,
the Batmobile lost one wheel
and the Joker did ballet,
Hey!
BART SIMPSON

Another version, sung in playgrounds across the Commonwealth

Jingle bells,
Batman smells,
Robin laid an egg,
Wonder Woman lost her bosom
on the motorway,
Hey!
,...........
Then there is this parody of the Barney theme (Barney the Purple Dinosaur was so hated by 90s schoolkids...)

Barney is a dinosaur 
with no imagination
Big and fat and full of crap
He died from constipation! 






miércoles, 16 de abril de 2025

YO QUIERO SER FUNCIONARIO

 YO QUIERO SER FUNCIONARIO

De Electric Banana Band

traducción de Sandra Dermark

16 de abril, MMXXV

******************************

Un día, mamá preguntó:

"¿Qué vas a ser tú de mayor?

Tal vez un audaz legionario?"

"¡No, yo quiero ser funcionario!"

***************************

Lo mejor para mí son mi pluma y papel,

mi perforadora e imán para clips

y sobres marrones tamaño A3

y mi propia grapadora, así es, como ves...

***************************

Se lo pasan bien los funcionarios,

cada día, muy bien, en el tajo,

envían sus faxes y mails

con mucha ambición, como veis.

************************

Lo mejor para mí son mi pluma y papel,

mi perforadora e imán para clips

y sobres marrones tamaño A3

y mi propia grapadora, así es, como ves...

********************************

Se sientan en sus escritorios

y escriben palabras muy raras:

"sinergia" y también "plusvalía",

me gustan esas palabritas.

**********************

Lo mejor para mí son mi pluma y papel,

mi perforadora e imán para clips

y sobres marrones tamaño A3

y mi propia grapadora, así es, como ves...

****************************

Y, al fin, cuando dan las cinco,

me vuelvo a mi casa de un brinco...

Me ahorro el turno de noche:

así seré yo, sin reproche.

***********************

Lo mejor para mí son mi pluma y papel,

mi perforadora e imán para clips

y sobres marrones tamaño A3

y mi propia grapadora, así es, como ves...

*************************

En serio: ¿qué niños quieren ser funcionarios? No está en el top ten de las profesiones de ensueño. De pequeña, yo quería ser ilustradora, diseñadora de vestuario o de personajes, pastelera e incluso astronauta. Se nota que esta canción es obviamente satírica.

miércoles, 24 de julio de 2024

AGUA, AZUCARILLOS... Y CASTELLÓN

 Me ha sorprendido un huevo la mención de la terreta en esta clásica zarzuela del siglo XIX (Agua, azucarillos y aguardiente) como provincia donde la humilde heroína podría ser la esposa del gobernador si escoge al señorito rico como esposo (si el señor padre del señorito llega a hacer a su hijo gobernador de CS por enchufe):

Una vez que los personajes están enterados de las intenciones de Serafín y cada uno dispuesto a su particular timo comienza la escena del vals en la que los novios tienen un diálogo cantado entre cómico y romántico con interrupciones jocosas de Simona y de Pepa. Este número tuvo una gran aceptación y su música pegadiza también.​ La letra de este vals además de contener una apasionada declaración de amor incluye crítica política interrumpida por el comentario de Pepa que dice «ilusiones del pobre señor»:

Si entra pronto papá en el poder...
(ilusiones del pobre señor)
Al instante,
muy campante,
me voy a una provincia
de gobernador.
Eres digna, por tu educación,
de ocupar una gran posición
y serás gobernadora
de Cuenca o de Zamora
o de Castellón.

sábado, 22 de julio de 2023

EN BICI VAN (TEMAZO DE QUEEN)

La siguiente canción de Freddie Mercury y de Queen, escrita y compuesta para el Tour de France, es todo un TEMAZO. Contiene efectos sonoros de timbres y su ritmo recuerda al pedaleo. Esta mañana me sentí inspirada y decidí traducirla cantable:

,..............................

EN BICI VAN

(BICYCLE RACE)

Un temazo de Freddie Mercury

Traducido por Sandra Dermark

el 23 de julio de 2023

...........

En bici, en bici, en bici,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir...

En bici, en bici, en bici...

Yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

en bici al fin montar,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

por donde quiera pedalear...

..............

Dices cara, y yo cruz;

tú tinieblas, yo luz;

"tun tun tun..." y yo "¡cielos!"

¡Nunca me fue Tiburón

ni tampoco Star Wars!

.........

Dices Rolls, digo Royce;

dices Dios, ¡una elección!

di el Señor, ¡Jesucristo!

No soy creyente en Peter Pan,

Frankenstein ni Superman,

todo cuanto quiero es ir

en bici,

En bici, en bici, en bici,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir...

En bici, en bici, en bici...

Yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

en bici al fin montar,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

por donde quiera pedalear...

..........

Vienen ciclistas, la Vuelta llegó, 

olvida toda preocupación...

Chicas culonas en el pelotón,

su hermosura despierta pasión...

¡Preparados!

¡Listos!

¡¡¡YAAA!!!

En bici van, 

en bici van,

en bici van,

en bici van...

Todo cuanto quiero es ir

En bici, en bici, en bici,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir...

En bici, en bici, en bici...

Yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

en bici al fin montar,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

por donde quiera pedalear...

............

Dices coca, y yo Caín;

dices John, y yo Wayne;

un Big Mac, ¡tranqui, tronco,

yo no quiero ser el presidente de los EE.UU.! (pronunciado EE.UU.)

...........

Tu sonrisa, un primor;

Cartier, ¡por favor!

el IVA, ¡Jesucristo!

¡yo no quiero candidato ser

para Vietnam o Watergate!


En bici, en bici, en bici,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir...

En bici, en bici, en bici...

Yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

en bici al fin montar,

yo quiero en bicicleta ir,

por donde quiera pedalear...



domingo, 27 de noviembre de 2022

HANS BRIX OM SNEDRONNINGEN 4. HISTORIE / SNOW QUEEN 4TH STORY

 

Hans Brix om Snedronningens fjerde Historie, "Prins og Prinsesse"

Under Udformningen af Grantræet — 4 Dec. 1844 — havde han (HC Andersen), som ovenfor vist, bestemt sig til at sammentrænge »Klods-Hans« — der jo vilde have staaet altfor grelt til sine Omgivelser — til en enkelt Linje. Til Gengæld har han Dagen efter — 5 Dec. — indflettet dette det eneste Eventyr han kunde i Snedronningen. Dette er naturligvis ikkegjort i et ørkesløst Lune. Andersen har for at komme udover det døde Punkt i Fortællingen valgt at skildre Oplevelsen fra 1822 med Søsteren i Eventyrforklædning. Hun drog fra Odense til København i den Tro at finde Broderen som Aladdin i et Slot; men hun — og han — tog fejl; han var ikke Aladdin, og havde ikke fundet Lykken. Om hans Angest for hende i den første Tid derefter minder Skov-Kragens Ord till Gerda: Saadan en lille Pige som du faar aldrig Lov til at komme ordentlig ud. — Det morsomme Indfald med Tjeneres Tjenere, der holder Dreng, er dannet over en Rejseerindring, der fortælles i Mit Livs Eventyr: I Bøhmen havde han hørt en Jøde sige, at han vilde ikke være Konge, det var saa svært, men nok en Konges Kammertjener, ligesom En han havde kendt, der var bleven saa tyk, at han ikke kunde gaa, men maatte atter holde sig igen en Kammertjener. — Hele Skildringen af Hoffet er i det hele gjort med megen Omhu og stort Kendskab; Andersen var bleven en forfaren Mand, siden han sidst havde skildret højere Steder i Eventyrene. —
Hvad Eventyreren selv angaar, da er han ingen Klods-Hans; en saa grotesk Figur lod sig ikke passe ind i denne Ramme; han er derimod en gammel Bekendt, nemlig Soldaten fra Fyrtøjet; han kommer ganske frejdig marcherende lige op til Slottet med sin Ransel paa Ryggen; til Lakajerne nikker han og siger: »Det maa være kedeligt at staa paa Trappen, jeg gaar heller indenfor.«
...
Her (i syvende Historie) træffer Gerda gamle Bekendte, men hverken hun eller Broderen giver Agt paa de Tegn, der møder dem: ... og Prinsen og Prinsessen er rejst til fremmede Lande. — Det vil sige, at det er ikke blot Aarstiden der er draget forbi, men at en Aarrække er gaaet. —

22 Juli 1843 (H.C. Andersens antegninger): Heiberg skrækkeligt medtaget af »Dagen«. Kørt Tur forbi Turebyholm! Skyggespil paa Buskene, idet vi kørte1. Fortalt Eventyr. Grev Moltke Nutschau indtruffet.
1. Cfr. Prinseparrets Drømme i Snedronningen.


Sandra Dermark's Translation, 27th of November 2022

Hans Brix on the Making of the Snow Queen's Fourth Story, "Prince and Princess" 

- We've got the inspiration behind the Prince (we know the Princess may be drawn from Shakespeare's Portia, but here's where her consort came from) as well as the inspiration for there being a hierarchy of gentleman courtiers and their valets and valets' valets - ditto court ladies and their maids and maids' maids. And most importantly the date for the making of this subplot... the 5th of December 1844. So why not make the 5th of December unofficial Fourth-Story-Prince-and-Princess Day and celebrate it by reading the subplot aloud, watching versions of it, looking at illustrations, perusing Maria Tatar's and Hans Brix's analyses (both on this blog), and eating the food mentioned in the subplot: bread and butter (smørrebrød), sugar pretzels (sukkerkringler) and gingerbread nuts/gingersnaps (pebernødder). You can buy the two latter foods, which are the pastries in the golden carriage, at Flying Tiger of Copenhagen in December, since they are Christmas pastries in Denmark.

During the creation of "The Spruce Tree" (AKA "The Christmas Tree") on the 4th of December 1844, Hans Christian Andersen had decided to sum up the Nordic folktale "Simple Simon" ("Klods-Hans"), which would have seemed too lurid and garish for the people of his society surroundings, in a simple, streamlined fashion. On the other hand, on the next day (the 5th of December), he nested this folktale, the only one he could, into The Snow Queen. Naturally, this has not been done in an effortless mood. Andersen has, in order to overcome a dead point or writer's block in his telling of The Snow Queen, chosen to depict the experience with his sister in 1822 in fairytale guise. She came from Odense to Copenhagen with the hope of finding her brother, like Aladdin, at a castle or palace, but both siblings were wrong; Hans Christian was not Aladdin, and he had not found his fortune yet. His anxieties about her in the time shortly afterward are recalled by the forest crow's words to Gerda: "Such a little maiden as you will never be allowed to enter (the royal castle) properly."

The witty irruption about the gentleman courtiers' valets' valets, who keep a pageboy apiece, is created from a memory of his travels, that Andersen tells in his memoirs, The Fairytale of My Life: In Bohemia (the present-day Czech Republic), he had heard a Jew say that he did not want to be king, for that was too difficult, but only a king's valet, like one he had known, who had put on so much weight that he could not walk, but was forced to keep a valet of his own. 

The whole description of the royal court is generally done with lots of care and lots of knowledge about the subject; Andersen had become an experienced man since the last time he had depicted such high places in his tales.

When it comes to the young adventurer himself, he is no Simple Simon; such a grotesque character would never fit into this frame; he is rather an old acquaintance, namely the soldier from "The Tinderbox" (AKA "The Lighter," or "The Firelighter"); he comes rather confidently marching straight up to the castle with his knapsack on his back; to the lackeys on the staircase he nods and says: "It would be tiresome to stand all day on the stairs; I'd rather go inside."

... (Nothing said about the death of the redshirt servants/entourage of the golden carriage)

Here (in the Seventh Story) Gerda meets old acquaintances, but neither she nor her playmate (Kai) pay attention to the signs that they meet: ... and the Prince and the Princess are travelling through foreign lands. 

This means that not only has a season passed (winter changed into spring), but that a whole year cycle has come and gone.

One year and a half before, and we get a possible inspiration for all the dreams of riders haunting the royal castle while HCA was working on a story he called "The Cygnet" ("Ugly Duckling" in the present day):

22nd of July 1843: Heiberg frighteningly shocked by "The Day" (a newspaper). Drove a while by Turebyholm! Shadowplay on the bushes, as we drove our carriage1. Told magic tales. Met Count Moltke Nutschau.

Annotation 1 for "Shadowplay on the bushes:" Compare the dreams of the Prince and Princess in The Snow Queen.

martes, 18 de febrero de 2020

REVIEW: THE MOIST VON LIPWIG TRILOGY



He's Mr. Mail. Mr. Money. Mr. Railway.
Yet at heart a confidence trickster who surprisingly proves himself as the ultimate bureaucrat.
He has many names -Albert, Mr. Mail, Mr. Money, Mr. Railway...-, as a trick of the trade, but there is no mistake that all of these aliases lead to the one and only



MOIST VON LIPWIG
(HÚMEDO VON MUSTACHEN in the Spanish translation)

The Moist-von-Lipwig steampunk trilogy is an excellent gateway into the Discworld, with the three-part saga's lovable scoundrel antihero and its central theme of change and technological/social progress in a renaissance fantasy world on the verge of eighteenth-century Enlightenment.

*

Going Postal - Cartas en el asunto


Postal is the only Moist novel that has been adapted to the screen so far (still waiting for the Money and Steam miniseries!). It is also Terry Pratchett's open love letter to snail mail - criticizing how it's being currently replaced by other, more advanced and quicker interpersonal communication systems -.



Self-made man, raised from obscure orphanhood to the infamy of the all-star psycho confidence trickster, Moist von Lipwig never expected to get a new lease on life on the day of execution - neither for this second chance to be in general charge of the Royal Mail. Alas, that's how things are (nice winged shako hat and matching winged sneakers, Hermes-style, also forming part of the uniform indeed!). There is also a romantic subplot of von Lipwig's betrothal with Adora Belle Dearheart, a free-spirited heiress turned social justice warrior and Ada Lovelace counterpart (think Ada Goth all grown up!) whose family has fallen on hard times due to the rise of clacks (semaphore towers, a metaphor for information technology) as the dominant medium for interpersonal communication. Knowing Moist, knowing Adora, there is both a quid pro quo and a love story in this arrangement...



In this story, an affectionate parody and subversion of Atlas Shrugged, of course information technology gets its fair share of satirising - Pratchett's idea is not going full-scale Luddism about snail mail, but showing how it can coexist with IT (the "clacks" semaphore tower system in the Discworld) at the end of the day. Hackers and free software ("the smoking GNU"), not to mention the Three Laws of Robotics, get here as much of a typically British tongue-in-cheek treatment as the mafia, capitalist monopolies, and even philatelia, the age-old hobby of stamp collecting: one of the few factors that currently keep snail mail alive.



**

Making Money - Dinero a mansalva


Right when Moist, in spite of his new lease on life, was growing weary of a cushy post as Mr. Mail, he is offered the deputy direction of the Royal Mint and First Bank on top of that - and it becomes his quest to introduce the reluctant Morporkian populace to paper money. The pug? Wealthy matriarch Topsy Lavish, Moist's predecessor, has bequeathed her immense fortune and office to her pet Mr. Fusspot, whom Moist adopts and becomes deputy for.

  



Of course the Lavish siblings, snubbed by their late mother in favour of a literal lapdog and his upstart nouveau-riche deputy, are not going to back down that easily. The Lavishes are a discworld counterpart to the Medicis and Borgias (their surname even echoes both luxury and Lannisters!), to give you an idea of what Mr. Money is up against...
He also gets a relationship upgrade with fiancée Adora on the love front... no spoiler alert, but I will let you figure out yourself what happens to them as a straight OTP!


At the end of Money, Moist and Adora... are husband and wife!




***

Raising Steam - A todo Vapor




All good things come in threes, and in Terry Pratchett's swan song, he finally gives Moist von Lipwig the chance to wear the third of three hats for his administrative hat-trick: Mr. Mail, who is also Mr. Money, becomes Mr. Railway on top of those two titles - in what is an open letter to the Victorian steam fever.
For starters, the final installment presents some interesting character dynamics by giving Moist a kouhai: Dick Simnel ("Lemnis" in sdrawckab, to echo Hephaestus) a self-taught young provincial metalworking prodigy with a great ambition - namely, this lad from oop north has made the first locomotive, and is the first train driver, in the history of the Discworld! In fact, I came for Mr. Railway, who negotiates land rights to lay out the railway tracks, and stayed for the self-taught young man with the flat cap who made and now drives the Iron Girder, which he refers to as a "she" and regards as the apple of his eye. Maybe having a soft spot for steampunk, a train driver for a great-grandfather, and being self-taught myself played all a part in this favouritism!



Whereas the first few books were essentially powered by the lampooning of epic fantasy tropes, which produced a new kind of magic unique to Pratchett’s work, the Discworld has changed. A medieval world has morphed into what’s essentially a 19th century society, albeit one where humans co-exist with such people – and they’re presented as fully rounded people, it’s important to note – as trolls, dwarves, golems, and now even geeky goblins.


 


Raising Steam marks a completion, of sorts, of this process, because such a world can’t rely on the magic of the Middle Ages and Early Modern era for its forward momentum. No, it needs a new power source: coal-fired steam. Step forward Dick Simnel. It would be easy to mistake Simnel for a straightforward, even simple country lad, but that’s to overlook the fact that he’s an engineer. And not just a glorified blacksmith, but someone who’s learnt the mysteries of the sliding rule, an innovator, a lad with a shed who knows how to use it.
Through careful experimentation and occasionally blowing stuff up on a more-or-less controlled basis, Simnel has tamed the steam, harnessing the power of all four classical elements in order to make the first train in the Discworld move forwards on the tracks. When the higher-ups like von Lipwig see Simnel's locomotive, the
Iron Girder, they also see the future. What follows is Pratchett’s take on the railway fever that gripped Victorian Britain at the excitable zenith of industrialisation.





As the tracks are laid and rights to the lands are acquired, the task proves not easy for our senpai-kouhai duo (later turned a trio with the addition of a curious hobgoblin), due mainly to railway terrorism by Luddites/ISIS counterparts who are fanatically opposed to industrial progress on what they deem religious grounds. The railway, which brings people together, opens up possibilities and certainly helps, but it’s also a potent symbol of change for those who don’t want change thank you very much. And at the extreme end of those who don’t want change lie the fundamentalists, the violent naysayers, the people who prefer to blow stuff up on a more-or-less uncontrolled basis.
How to counter such a mindset is the overarching preoccupation of the second half of the novel, as
Moist and Simnel build a railway all the way from their Morporkian-Sto Plains homelands to Überwald. Why? Without giving too much away, it’s because certain dwarves can’t accept being at peace with traditional enemies. The same fanatical dwarves who want to stop the Iron Girder in its tracks, to be more exact...
The internecine conflicts amongst the dwarves soon spill out beyond their mines, and this eventually draws Moist, Simnel, and the railway right into the middle of an attempted coup d’état. Will they reach their final station unscathed?
This second act, with colonialists laying railway tracks across hostile "savage" territory and all the consequences thereof, was reminiscent of, and even surpassing, The Lunatic Express -even the climax involves a railway bridge across a chasm, though with far more dangerous enemies than African Lions to confront!-. There is a traintop battle, railway accidents, a fat controller, and landowners intent to make Moist drunk in order to stop the tracks from coursing right across their estates - a wild ride indeed...



martes, 10 de diciembre de 2019

IN WHICH TENJOU IS FINALLY UNMASKED

Star*Twinkle Pretty Cure - Episode 43
My Own Review
IN WHICH TENJOU IS FINALLY UNMASKED - add the finale * Nena's mother-daughter woes and thoughts about interpreters https://prettycure.fandom.com/wiki/STPC43/Image_Gallery

The forty-third episode of Star Twinkle wraps up the Elena arc that effectively started back in episode thirty-nine, with a visit to the Planet Guten (as in verlan for "Tengu"). This particular planet is notable for being the place where Tenjou came from.
I have particularly high hopes for this episode. Hopefully it will meet my expectations.

Precures and company arrive on Planet Guten

In this episode, the PreCures take a trip to Planet Guten where the Starscape Alliance is working on technology that will let them track down the KNotraiders. On this planet, Elena is confronted by Tenjou, the most infamous denizen of her homeworld.

Hikaru sketches the sights of the new planet

This may be considered an Elena focus episode, but playing an equally important role this time around is Tenjou, with whom she shares the spotlight. After all, the setting is her home planet.

Tenjou vs. Cure Soleil

It seems the earlier into an episode the PreCures transform, the better it will be. Got to give props to Tenjou for attempting to attack Elena when she was alone, but of course that was never going to last long.

On Guten, nose size is the primary beauty canon.

Which of course has to do with Tenjou's real nose (fine and aquiline, but not long enough) once she is unmasked. Ever since childhood, she had to endure discrimination.



Back when she had the cutest little button nose EVER
- and was a freak in mainstream tengu society.


Though some of them told her that nose size was not their concern...

at the end of the day...




All of the other tengu
used to laugh and call her names;
they never let poor Tenjou
play any tengu games...

Young Tenjou the Button-Nosed Tengu

Tenjou’s backstory is divulged in this episode, when her mask drops off and her real face is revealed (although also the real nose is seen beneath the mask in last picture) and it is not something that she is particularly happy about sharing. Doesn’t seem to be quite as extreme as Kappard's and Ayewan’s stories, but she definitely earns some sympathy at least.

Tenjou plays both villain and victim this week

Being a Cure Soleil focus episode means that the other Cures -including Selene- have to be about as useful as chocolate fireguards during battle. Cure Soleil isn’t exactly proactively fighting either, so she gets literally kicked around a bit before she gets her actual moment to shine.

Even incapacitated, Selene reassures Soleil

These last few episodes have definitely been pushing more Soleil x Selene  / Soluna interactions, and I am pretty happy with that. When Soleil is down, Selene is there to pick her up. The relationship between Elena and Madoka has definitely been one of the best things to come out of the previous few episodes.


Cure Soleil power up

Cure Soleil reaches a pivotal moment in her character development, and of course that means she follows in the footsteps of Yuni, Lala and Madoka. Just Hikaru to go now. Much like with Madoka’s episode, though, I feel like something is lost with the entire group launching their finishing move/hissatsu. Just let Elena have it on her own, and it would be more impactful. Oh well.



Cure Soleil offers her helping hand to Selene

After the battle, we get the hint that a certain force of evil will be on the move very soon. This episode wraps up in a rather touching manner, with Elena having a heart to heart with her mother. And Kaede finally telling her the truth!

I’d say something about cutting onions, but that’s exactly what Elena was doing at this point

Don’t worry, the episode doesn’t end on a downer. Rather, we cap off what has been a fantastic two-parter arc for Elena and Tenjou on a positive note.
I can safely say that this episode did indeed meet my expectations. I suspected it was going to be fantastic, and it was. Lots of lovely screentime for Elena, all devoted towards her character development.
For the previous few episodes, both Elena and Madoka hI’d say something about cutting onions, but that’s exactly what Elena was doing at this pointave been the main stars. These past few episodes have been excellent reminders that Elena and Madoka are a key part of the team, as well.
Next time, Christmas! Might not be so merry, though…




MY OWN HUMBLE OPINION:
Kappard's species died of thirst. Ayewan was a streetrat/gamine. AND TENJOU? She was the object of ostracism for having the cutesiest tiny button nose, while tengu are well-known for their prominent Pinocchio noses -- kind of a reverse Cyrano de Bergerac or a Tenjou the Button-Nosed Tengu (to reference the famous Yuletide carol)! Everyone on Guten treated her as their inferior. Thus, the tengu-nosed mask she wore until now, and that finally dropped off, is to compensate for this stigma/social handicap and appear as normal instead of deviant.

Tenjou the Button-Nosed Tengu
had a very tiny nose;
and if you ever saw it,
you could only from up close!

All of the other tengu
used to laugh and call her names;
they never let poor Tenjou
play any tengu games...

Just had the urge to filk while also commenting on the arbitrariness of beauty standards; compare the ribcage-misshaping corset in Early Modern and Victorian Western culture, the giraffe women of Southeast Asia, the lotus-bud-feet bound into that shape, or those Sub-Saharan females in a certain village society who wear terracotta plates on their pierced bottom lips!! There is also a Victorian fairytale commenting on/satirising this issue of arbitrary fashion canons and discrimination of those who deviate; the Story of Prince Fairyfoot, set in a kingdom where foot size is the paramount beauty standard (compare nose size on Guten and read some Freudian innuendo between the lines) where obviously the titular crown prince is born and grows up with tiny dainty feet -- "Fairyfoot" is what he is derisively called. His crowned parents give him up, while he's still a toddler, to a pigkeeper or shepherd family and, though as cruel as the Thénardiers, these guardians are a blessing in disguise, since he lives far closer to wild nature -- flora, fauna, and fair folk... Having a little echtra (adventure in fairyland) with Puck in the guise of a redbreasted songbird called the Robin Goodfellow (Puck, NOT Fairyfoot) finally brings him closer to self-acceptance among the littlepeople and then among the big people (humans) of Stompingham and of the next kingdom over, where in contrast tiny feet are in vogue and those of the crown princess look like they belong in clown shoes...

"Wouldn't you?" said the Robin, looking up at him.
"No," answered Fairyfoot.
"Well," said the Robin, "I guess I won't. Let's go and have some fun. They
are all that way. You can't depend on any of them. Never trust one of
them. I believe that creature has been engaged as much as twice since I
left. By a singular coincidence," he added, "I have been married twice
myself--but, of course, that's different. I'm a man, you know, and--well,
it's different. We won't dwell on it. Let's go and dance. But wait a
minute first." He took a little bottle from his pocket.

"If you remain the size you are," he continued, "you will tread on whole
sets of lancers and destroy entire regiments. If you drink this, you will
become as small as we are; and then, when you are going home, I will give
you something to make you large again." Fairyfoot drank from the little
flagon, and immediately he felt himself growing smaller and smaller until
at last he was as small as his companion.

"Now, come on," said the Robin.
On they went and joined the fairies, and they danced and played fairy
games and feasted on fairy dainties, and were so gay and happy that
Fairyfoot was wild with joy. Everybody made him welcome and seemed to
like him, and the lady fairies were simply delightful, especially
Gauzita, who took a great fancy to him. Just before the sun rose, Robin
gave him something from another flagon, and he grew large again, and
two minutes and three seconds and a half before daylight the ball broke
up, and the Robin took him home and left him, promising to call for him the
next night.

Every night throughout the whole summer the same thing happened. At
midnight he went to the fairies' dance; and at two minutes and three
seconds and a half before dawn he came home. He was never lonely any
more, because all day long he could think of what pleasure he would have
when the night came; and, besides that, all the fairies were his friends.
But when the summer was coming to an end, the Robin Goodfellow said to him:
"This is our last dance--at least it will be our last for some time. At
this time of the year we always go back to our own country, and we don't
return until spring."

This made Fairyfoot very sad. He did not know how he could bear to be
left alone again, but he knew it could not be helped; so he tried to be
as cheerful as possible, and he went to the final festivities, and
enjoyed himself more than ever before, and Gauzita gave him a tiny ring
for a parting gift. But the next night, when the Robin did not come for him,
he felt very lonely indeed, and the next day he was so sorrowful that he
wandered far away into the forest, in the hope of finding something to
cheer him a little. He wandered so far that he became very tired and
thirsty, and he was just making up his mind to go home, when he thought
he heard the sound of falling water. It seemed to come from behind a
thicket of climbing roses; and he went towards the place and pushed the
branches aside a little, so that he could look through. What he saw was a
great surprise to h

him. Though it was the end of summer, inside the
thicket the roses were blooming in thousands all around a pool as clear
as crystal, into which the sparkling water fell from a hole in the rock
above. It was the most beautiful, clear pool that Fairyfoot had ever
seen, and he pressed his way through the rose branches, and, entering the
circle they inclosed, he knelt by the water and drank.

Almost instantly his feeling of sadness left him, and he felt quite
happy and refreshed. He stretched himself on the thick perfumed moss,
and listened to the tinkling of the water, and it was not long before he
fell asleep.

When he awakened the moon was shining, the pool sparkled like a silver
plaque crusted with diamonds, and two nightingales were singing in the
branches over his head. And the next moment he found out that he
understood their language just as plainly as if they had been human
beings instead of avian. The water with which he had quenched his thirst
was enchanted, and had given him this new power.

"Poor boy!" said one nightingale, "he looks tired; I wonder where he
came from."

"Why, my dear," said the other, "is it possible you don't know that he is
Prince Fairyfoot?"

"What!" said the first nightingale--"the King and Queen of Stompingham's son, who was born with small feet?"
"Yes," said the second. "And the poor child has lived in the forest,
keeping the sheep and pigs ever since. And he is a very nice boy, too--never throws stones at birds or robs nests."

"What a pity he doesn't know about the pool where the red berries grow!"
said the first nightingale.

"What pool--and what red berries?" asked the second nightingale.
"Why, my dear," said the first, "is it possible you don't know about the
pool where the red berries grow--the pool where the poor, dear Princess
Goldenhair met with her misfortune?"

"Never heard of it," said the second nightingale, rather crossly.
"Well," explained the other, "you have to follow the brook for a day and
three-quarters, and then take all the paths to the left until you come to
the pool. It is very ugly and muddy, and bushes with red berries on them
grow around it."

"Well, what of that?" said her companion; "and what happened to the
Princess Maybloom Goldenhair?"

"Don't you know that, either?" exclaimed her friend.
"No."
"Ah!" said the first nightingale, "it was very sad. She went out with her
father, the King of next kingdom, who had a hunting party; and she lost her way, thinking of her missing mother the Queen, and wandered on until she came to the pool. Her poor little feet were so hot that she took off her gold-embroidered satin slippers, and put them into the water--her feet, not the slippers--and the next minute they began to grow and grow, and to get larger and larger, until they were so immense she could hardly walk at all; and though all the physicians in the kingdom have tried to make them smaller, nothing can be done, and she is
perfectly unhappy."

"What a pity she doesn't know about this pool!" said the other bird. "If
she just came here and bathed them three times in the water, they would
be smaller and more beautiful than ever, and she would be more lovely
than she has ever been."

"It is a pity," said her companion; "but, you know, if we once let people
know what this water will do, we should be overrun with humans bathing
themselves beautiful, and trampling our moss underfoot and tearing down our
rose-trees, and we should never have any peace."

"That is true," agreed the other.
Very soon after they flew away, and Fairyfoot was left alone. He had been
so excited while they were talking that he had been hardly able to lie
still. He was so sorry for Princess Goldenhair, and so glad for
himself. Now he could find his way to the pool with the red berries, and
he could bathe his feet in it until they were large enough to satisfy
Stompingham; and he could go back to his court where he had been born, and his parents would perhaps; be fond of him. But he had so good a heart that he could not think of being happy himself and letting others remain unhappy, when
he could help them. So the first thing was to find this Princess
Goldenhair and tell her about the nightingales' fountain. But how was he
to find her? The nightingales had not told him. He was very much
troubled, indeed. How was he to find her?

Suddenly, quite suddenly, he thought of the ring Gauzita had given him.
When she had given it to him she had made an odd remark.

"When you wish to go anywhere," she had said, "hold it in your hand, turn
around twice with closed eyes, and something queer will happen."

He had thought it was one of her little jokes, but now it occurred to him
that at least he might try what would happen. So he rose up, held the
ring in his hand, closed his eyes, and turned around twice.

What did happen was that he began to walk, not very fast, but still
passing along as if he were moving rapidly. He did not know where he was
going, but he guessed that the ring did, and that if he obeyed it, he
should find one Princess Maybloom Goldenhair. He went on and on, not getting in the least tired, until about daylight he found himself under a great
tree, and on the ground beneath it was spread a delightful breakfast,
which he knew was for him. He sat down and ate it, and then got up again
and went on his way once more. Before noon he had left the forest behind
him, and was in a strange country. He knew it was not Stompingham,
because the people had not large feet. But they all had sad faces, and
once or twice, when he passed groups of them who were talking, he heard
them speak of Princess Maybloom Goldenhair, as if they were sorry for her and
could not enjoy themselves while such a misfortune rested upon her.

"So sweet and lovely and kind a princess!" they said; "and it really
seems as if she would never be any better."

The sun was just setting when Fairyfoot came in sight of the palace. It
was built of white marble, and had beautiful pleasure-grounds about it,
but somehow there seemed to be a settled gloom in the air. Fairyfoot had
entered the great pleasure-garden, and was wondering where it would be
best to go first, when he saw a lovely white fawn, with a golden collar
about its neck, come bounding over the flower-beds, and he heard, at a
little distance, a sweet voice, saying, sorrowfully, "Come back, my fawn;
I cannot run and play with you as I once used to. Do not leave me, my
little friend."

And soon from behind the trees came a line of beautiful girls, walking
two by two, all very slowly; and at the head of the line, first of all,
came the loveliest princess in the world, dressed softly in pure white,
with a wreath of lilies on her long golden hair, which fell almost to the
hem of her white gown.

She had so fair and tender a young face, and her large, soft eyes, yet
looked so sorrowful, that Fairyfoot loved her in a moment, and he knelt
on one knee, taking off his cap and bending his head until his own golden
hair almost hid his face.

"Beautiful Princess Maybloom Goldenhair, beautiful and sweet Princess, may I speak to you?" he said.
The Princess stopped and looked at him, and answered him softly. It
surprised her to see one so poorly dressed kneeling before her, in her
palace gardens, among the brilliant flowers; but she always spoke softly
to everyone.

"What is there that I can do for you, my friend?" she said.
"Beautiful Princess," answered Fairyfoot, blushing, "I hope very much
that I may be able to do something for you."

"For me!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, friend; what is it you can do?
Indeed, I need a help I am afraid no one can ever give me."

"Gracious and fairest lady," said Fairyfoot, "it is that help I
think--nay, I am sure--that I bring to you."

"Oh!" said the sweet Princess. "You have a kind face and most true eyes,
and when I look at you--I do not know why it is, but I feel a little
happier. What is it you would say to me?"

Still kneeling before her, still bending his head modestly, and still
blushing, Fairyfoot told his story. He told her of his own sadness and
loneliness, and of why he was considered so terrible a disgrace to his
family, and had been given up to peasants and. He told her about the fountain of the nightingales and what he
had heard there and how he had journeyed through the forests, and beyond
it into her own country, to find her. And while he told it, her
beautiful face changed from red to white, and her hands closely clasped
themselves together.

"Oh!" she said, when he had finished, "I know that this is true from the
kind look in your eyes, and I shall be happy again. And how can I thank
you for being so good to a poor little princess whom you had never seen?"

"Only let me see you happy once more, most sweet Princess," answered
Fairyfoot, "and that will be all I desire--only if, perhaps, I might
once--kiss your hand."

She held out her hand to him with so lovely a look in her soft eyes that
he felt happier than he had ever been before, even at the fairy dances.
This was a different kind of happiness. Her hand was as white as a turtledove's
wing and as soft as a turtledove's breast plumage. "Come," she said, "let us go at once to the King my father."

Within a few minutes the whole palace was in an uproar of excitement.
Preparations were made to go to the fountain of the nightingales
immediately. Remembering what the birds had said about not wishing to be
disturbed, Fairyfoot asked the King to take only a small party. So no one
was to go but the King himself, the Princess, in a covered chair carried
by two bearers, the Lord High Chamberlain, two Maids of Honour, and
Fairyfoot.

Before morning they were on their way, and the day after they reached the
thicket of roses, and Fairyfoot pushed aside the branches and led the way
into the dell.

The Princess Goldenhair sat down upon the edge of the pool and put her
feet into it. In two minutes they began to look smaller. She bathed them
once, twice, three times, and, as the nightingales had said, they became
smaller and more beautiful than ever. As for the Princess herself, she
really could not be more beautiful than she had been; but the Lord High
Chamberlain, who had been an exceedingly ugly old gentleman, after
washing his face, became so young and handsome that the First Maid of
Honour immediately fell in love with him. Whereupon she washed her face,
and became so beautiful that he fell in love with her, and they were
engaged upon the spot.

The Princess could not find any words to tell Fairyfoot how grateful
she was and how happy. She could only look at him again and again with
her soft, radiant eyes, and again and again give him her hand that he
might kiss it.

She was so sweet and gentle that Fairyfoot could not bear the thought of
leaving her; and when the King begged him to return to the palace with
them and live there always, he was more glad than I can tell you. To be
near this lovely Princess, to be her friend, to love and serve her and
look at her every day, was such happiness that he wanted nothing more.
But first he wished to visit his father and mother in Stompingham! so the widowed King and Princess and their attendants
went with him to the pool where the red berries grew; and after he had
bathed his feet in the water they were so large that Stompinghamcontained nothing like them, even the King's and Queen's seeming small in
comparison. And when, a few days later, he arrived at the Stompingham
Palace, attended in great state by the magnificent retinue with which the
father of the Princess Goldenhair had provided him, he was received with
unbounded rapture by his parents. The King and Queen felt that to have a
son with feet of such a size was something to be proud of, indeed. They
could not admire him sufficiently, although the whole country was
illuminated, and feasting continued throughout his visit.

But though he was glad to be no more a disgrace to his family, it cannot
be said that he enjoyed the size of his feet very much on his own
account. Indeed, he much preferred being Prince Fairyfoot, as fleet as
the wind and as light as a young deer, and he was quite glad to go to the
fountain of the nightingales after his visit was at an end, and bathe his
feet small again, and to return to the palace of Princess Maybloom Goldenhair
with the soft and tender eyes. There everyone loved him, and he loved
everyone, and was four times as happy as the day is long.

He loved the Princess more dearly every day, and, of course, as soon as
they were old enough, they were married. And of course, too, they used to
go in spring and summer to the forest, and dance in the moonlight with the
fairies, who adored them both.

When they went to visit Stompingham, they always bathed their feet in
the pool of the red berries; and when they returned, they made them small
again in the fountain of the nightingales.

They were always great friends with the Robin Goodfellow, and he was always
very confidential with them about Gauzita, who continued to be as pretty
and saucy as ever.

"Some of these days," he used to say, severely, "I'll marry another
fairy, and see how she'll like that--to see someone else basking in my
society! _I'll_ get even with her!"

But he _never_ did.

 ANOTHER RETELLING --picking up, also, from when he meets the little people!!

"'I will do that, and anything more you like,' said Fairyfoot; and the little man taking his hand, led him over the pasture into the forest, and along a mossy path among old trees wreathed in ivy (he never knew how far), till they heard the sound of music, and came upon a meadow where the moon shone as bright as day, and all the flowers of the year–snowdrops, violets, primroses, and cowslips–bloomed together in the thick grass. There was a crowd of little men and women, some clad in russet color, but far more in green, dancing around a little well as clear as crystal. And under great rose trees which grew here and there in the meadow, companies were sitting round low tables covered with cups of milk, dishes of honey, and carved wooden flagons filled with clear red berry-wine. The little man led Fairyfoot up to the nearest table, handed him one of the flagons, and said–'Drink to the good company!'
"Wine was not very common among the shepherds or other peasants of Stompingham, and the boy had never tasted such drink as that before; for scarcely had it gone down when he forgot all his troubles–how his stepbrothers Blackthorn and Brownberry wore his clothes, how his stepmother Rough Ruddy sent him to keep the sickly sheep, and the children would not dance with him: in short, he forgot the whole misfortune of his feet, and it seemed to his mind that he was a king's son, and all was well with him. All the little people about the well cried–
"'Welcome! welcome!' and everyone said–'Come and dance with me!' So Fairyfoot was as happy as a prince, and drank milk and ate honey till the moon was low in the sky, and then the little man took him by the hand and never stopped nor stayed till he was at his own bed of straw in the cottage corner.
"Next morning Fairyfoot was not tired for all his dancing. Nobody in the cottage had missed him, and he went out with the sheep as usual; but every night all that summer, when the shepherds were safe in bed, the little man came and took him away to dance in the forest. Now he did not care to play with the shepherds' children, nor grieve that his real crowned father and mother had forgotten him, but watched the sheep all day singing to himself or plaiting rushes; and when the sun went down, Fairyfoot's heart rejoiced at the thought of meeting that merry company.
"The wonder was that he was never tired nor sleepy, as people are apt to be who dance all night; but before the summer was ended Fairyfoot found out the reason. One night, when the moon was full and the last of the ripe corn rustling in the fields, the Robin Goodfellow came for him as usual, and away they went to the flowery green. The fun there was high, and the Robin was in haste. So he only pointed to the carved cup from which Fairyfoot every night drank the clear red wine.
"'I am not thirsty, and there is no use losing time,' thought the boy to himself, and he joined the dance; but never in all his life did Fairyfoot find such hard work as to keep pace with the company. Their feet seemed to move like lightning; the swallows did not fly so fast or turn so quickly. Fairyfoot did his best, for he never gave in easily, but at length, his breath and strength being spent, the boy was glad to steal away and sit down behind a mossy oak, where his eyes closed for very weariness. When he awoke the dance was nearly over, but two little ladies clad in green talked close beside him.
"'What a beautiful boy!' said one of them. 'He is worthy to be a king's and queen's son. Only see what handsome feet he has!'
"'Yes,' said the other, with a laugh that sounded spiteful; 'they are just like the feet of Princess Maybloom, in the next kingdom over, had before she washed them in the Growing Well. Her father has sent far and wide throughout the whole country searching for a doctor to make them small again, but nothing in this world can do it except the water of the Fair Fountain, and none but I and the nightingales know where it is.' 
 "'One would not care to let the like be known,' said the first little lady: 'there would come such crowds of these great coarse creatures of humankind, nobody would have peace for leagues round. But you will surely send word to the sweet princess–she was so kind to our birdies and butterflies, and danced so like one of ourselves!'
"'Not I, indeed!' said the spiteful fairy. 'Her old skinflint of a father cut down the cedar which I loved best in the whole forest, and made a treasure-chest of it to hold his money in, and her weakling of a mother did nothing to deter her husband's greed; besides, I never liked the princess–everybody praised her so. But come, we shall be too late for the last dance.'
"When they were gone, Fairyfoot could sleep no more with astonishment. He did not wonder at the fairies admiring his feet, because their own were much the same; but it amazed him that Princess Maybloom's father, in the next kingdom over, should be troubled at hers growing large. Moreover, he wished to see that same princess and her country, since there were really other places in the world than Stompingham.
"When Robin Goodfellow came to take him home as usual he durst not let him know that he had overheard anything; but never was the boy so unwilling to get up as on that morning, and all day he was so weary that in the afternoon Fairyfoot fell asleep, with his head on a clump of rushes. It was seldom that anyone thought of looking after him and the sickly sheep. Till one day when his stepfamily took their abuse too far, Fairyfoot fled into the forest, and never stopped nor stayed till he reached the banks of a little stream. "Thinking it might lead him to the fairies' dancing-ground, he followed that stream for many an hour, but it wound away into the heart of the forest, flowing through dells, falling over mossy rocks and at last leading Fairyfoot, when he was tired and the night had fallen, to a grove of great rose-trees, with the moon shining on it as bright as day, and thousands of nightingales singing in the branches. In the midst of that grove was a clear spring, bordered with banks of lilies, and Fairyfoot sat down by it to rest himself and listen. The singing was so sweet he could have listened forever, but as he sat, the nightingales left off their songs and began to talk together in the silence of the night.
"'What boy is that,' said one on a branch above him, 'who sits so lonely by the Fair Fountain? He cannot have come from Stompingham with such small and handsome feet.'
"'No, I'll warrant you,' said another, 'he has come from the west country. How in the world did he find the way?'
"'How simple you are!' said a third nightingale. 'What had he to do but follow the ground-ivy which grows over height and hollow, bank and bush, from the lowest gate of the king's kitchen-garden to the root of this rose-tree. He looks a wise boy, and I hope he will keep the secret, or we shall have all the west country here, dabbling in our fountain and leaving us no rest to either talk or sing. '
"Fairyfoot sat in great astonishment at this discourse, but by-and-by, when the talk ceased and the songs began, he thought it might be as well for him to follow the ground-ivy and see the Princess Maybloom, not to speak of getting rid of the sickly sheep, and the crusty old shepherds. It was a long journey; but he went on, eating wild berries by day, sleeping in the hollows of old trees by night, and never losing sight of the ground-ivy, which led him over height and hollow, bank and brush, out of the forest, and along a noble high road, with fields and villages on every side, to a low old-fashioned gate of the king's kitchen-garden, which was thought too mean for the scullions, and had not been opened for seven years. "There was no use knocking–the gate was overgrown with tall weeds and moss; so, being an active boy, he climbed over and walked through the garden, till a white fawn came frisking by, and he heard a soft voice saying sorrowfully–
"'Come back, come back, my fawn! I cannot run and play with you now, my feet have grown so heavy;' and looking round he saw the loveliest young princess in the world, dressed in snow-white, and wearing a wreath of roses on her golden hair; but walking slowly, as the great people did in Stompingham, for her feet were as large as the best of them.
After her came six young ladies, dressed in white and walking slowly, for they could not go before the princess; but Fairyfoot was amazed to see that their feet were as small as his own. At once he guessed that this must be Princess Maybloom, and made her an humble bow, saying–
"'Royal princess, I have heard of your trouble because your feet have grown large: in my country that's all the fashion. For seven years past I have been wondering what would make mine grow, to no purpose; but I know of a certain fountain that will make yours smaller and finer than ever they were, if the king, your father, gives you leave to come with me, accompanied by two of your maids that are the least given to talking, and the most prudent officer in all his household; for it would grievously offend the fairies and the nightingales to make that fountain known.'
"When the princess heard that, she danced for joy in spite of her large feet, and she and her six maids brought Fairyfoot before the king and queen, where they sat in their palace hall, with all the courtiers paying their morning compliments. The lords were very much astonished to see a ragged, barefoot boy brought in among them, and the ladies thought Princess Maybloom must have gone mad; but Fairyfoot, making an humble reverence, told his message to the king and queen, her parents, and offered to set out with the princess that very day. At first the king could not believe that there could be any use in his offer, because so many great physicians had failed to give any relief. The courtiers laughed Fairyfoot to scorn, the pages wanted to turn him out for an impudent imposter, and the Chancellor said he ought to be put to death for treason.
Fairyfoot wished himself safe in the forest again, or even keeping the sickly sheep; but the queen, being a prudent woman, said–
"'I pray your majesty to notice what fine feet this boy has. There may be some truth in his story. For the sake of our only daughter, I will choose two maids who talk the least of all our train, and my chamberlain, who is the most discreet officer in our household. Let them go with the princess: who knows but our sorrow may be lessened?'
"After some persuasion the king consented, though his councilors advised the contrary. So the two silent maids, the discreet chamberlain, and her fawn, which would not stay behind, were sent with Princess Maybloom, and they all set out after dinner. Fairyfoot had hard work guiding them along the track of the ground-ivy. The maids and the chamberlain did not like the brambles and rough roots of the forest–they thought it hard to eat berries and sleep in hollow trees; but the princess went on with good courage, and at last they reached the grove of rose-trees, and the spring bordered with lilies.
"The chamberlain washed–and though his hair had been gray, and his face wrinkled, the young courtiers envied his beauty for years after. The maids washed–and from that day they were esteemed the fairest in all the palace. Lastly the princess washed also–it could make her no fairer, but the moment her feet touched the water they grew less, and when she had washed and dried them three times, they were as small and finely shaped as Fairyfoot's own.
There was great joy among them, but the boy said sorrowfully–
"'Oh! if there had been a well in the world to make my feet large, my father and mother would not have cast me off, nor sent me to live among the shepherds.'
"'Cheer up your heart,' said the Princess Maybloom; 'if you want large feet, there is a well in this forest that will do it. Last summer time, I came with my father and his foresters to see a great cedar cut down, of which he meant to make a money treasure-chest. While they were busy with the cedar, I saw a bramble branch covered with berries. Some were ripe and some were green, but it was the longest bramble that ever grew; for the sake of the berries, I went on and on to its root, which grew hard by a muddy-looking well, with banks of dark green moss, in the deepest part of the forest. The day was warm and dry, and my feet were sore with the rough ground, so I took off my scarlet shoes and washed my feet in the well; but as I washed, they grew larger every minute, and nothing could ever make them less again. I have seen the bramble this day; it is not far off, and as you have shown me the Fair Fountain, I will show you the Growing Well.'
"Up rose Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom, and went together till they found the bramble, and came to where its root grew, hard by the muddy-looking well, with banks of dark green moss in the deepest dell of the forest. Fairyfoot sat down to wash, but at that minute he heard a sound of music and knew it was the fairies going to their dancing ground.
"'If my feet grow large,' said the boy to himself, 'how shall I dance with them?' So, rising quickly, he took the Princess Maybloom by the hand. The fawn followed them; the maids and the chamberlain followed it, and all followed the music through the forest. At last they came to the flowery green. Robin Goodfellow welcomed the company for Fairyfoot's sake, and gave everyone a drink of the fairies' wine. So they danced there from sunset till the gray morning, and nobody was tired; but before the lark sang, Robin Goodfellow took them all safe home, as he used to take Fairyfoot.
"There was great joy that day in the palace because Princess Maybloom's feet were made small again. The king gave Fairyfoot all manner of fine clothes and rich jewels; and when they heard his wonderful story, he and the queen of that land asked him to live with them and be their son. In process of time Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom were married, and still live happily. When they go to visit Stompingham, they always wash their feet in the Growing Well, lest the royal family might think them a disgrace, but when they come back, they make haste to the Fair Fountain; and the fairies and the nightingales are great friends to them, as well as the maids and the chamberlain, because they have told nobody about it, and there is peace and quiet yet in the grove of rose-trees." 
Here two that wore crowns of gold and were clothed in cloth of silver rose up and said–
"That's our story."






THAT SOLUNA MOMENT:
Cure Selene is load-bearing, half conscious, and risks having her ribcage crushed. Soleil is fighting her solo battle.


AND THEY REASSURE ONE ANOTHER <3 <3 <3 <3