Type 923 Would Play Differently These Days, Huh

[paperback]

The
Fairy Tale Tale Type
Meme



Today, we ignore the thorny questions about the inherent colonialism of type classification and instead, we follow these steps...

Step One

Comment with your character, including preferences or your own starter if you'd like.

Step Two
Roll or choose a tale type:

1. Animal Brides, tales of ATU type 402
2. Beauty and the Beast, tales of ATU type 425c
3. Brothers Turned into Birds, tales of ATU type 451
4. Cinderella, tales of ATU type 510a
5. Fitcher's Bird, tales of ATU type 311
6. Fairy Gifts, tales of ATU type 503
7. Hansel and Gretel, tales of ATU type 327
8. Selkie Wife, tales of Christiansen type 4080
9. Rumplestiltskin, tales of ATU type 500
10. Open Sesame, tales of ATU type 676
11. Puss in Boots, tales of ATU type 545b
12. Rapunzel, tales of ATU type 310
13. The Robber Bridegroom, tales of ATU type 955
14. The Twelve Dancing Princesses, tales of ATU type 306
15. Pick Your Own, tales of getting lost in folktexts

Step Three

Play out a scenario based on the tale! AU your characters into the fairy tale, create your own modern retelling, have your characters put on a school play of the story, remember that folklore is inherently dynamic and transformative.

Comments

[mycrosstobear]

[He nods, avoiding looking at her. The faster they can get this done, the faster they can get to pretending this never happened.

Nicholas picks up the basket. He closes his eyes in concentration, running a hand over the inside. Filling in the gaps is a matter of convincing the wood that it's solid, even if it doesn't start looking like it.

It's easier than it should be, after so long. That's his mother's influence. ...He blinks.] It worked?

[It felt like it worked. He'd always wondered if there being a way to lift the curse was a lie, another way to make a fool of him.]

[adamantlyardent]

It...it worked?

[no way. Cecelia's still stuck in place, but it's Wolfwood's tone more than anything is what starts to prod her out of place, to step forward, to peer at the basket.]

How-? Are, are you sure? Can I see? [she still has to actually complete her chore, and only has so much time left before sundown...]

[mycrosstobear]

Sure. [The basket does still look the same. But as Nicholas hands it over to her, Cecelia might notice that it feels heavier, as if it's more solid.

Because it is. If she tries drawing water with it now, the basket will hold it.]

[adamantlyardent]

[she takes the basket, turning it this way and that in her smaller hands, biting her lip before stepping around him to get to the well bucket she'd discarded in her dismay. this means she has to fill it up again - something she does with a bit of stammering and fussing because of the audience (any offers to help get met with a what if she KNOWS I didn't do it all myself?! and subsequently blown aside so she doesn't have to look him in the face again).

then...moment of truth: transferring the water to the basket. she does so with her breath held and her heart hammering, fearful to see it all soak into the ground just like the others, but--]

It...did work...! No way!! No way it worked it WORKED!

[mycrosstobear]

It worked!

[He peers over her shoulder at the water which resolutely remains inside the basket. He'd been sure it had worked...but he hadn't been sure.

Could he get another spell or two in? Or is the curse really as powerful as it's supposed to be, and he'll need a kiss for every one?]

[adamantlyardent]

Omigosh, omigoshomiGOSH-- [her voice turns to a squeak, but before she can voice complete delight, she catches herself with a little gasp, fearful of jostling the water and somehow ruining everything.

she hugs the basket to herself tightly as she dares, her mind already on making a bee line back to the house to see her task done and her life ultimately spared - something which has her spinning quickly around and right into the boy who'd been looming over her.]

EEP-! No! Aa-!

[mycrosstobear]

Hey!

[How did you manage to miss that he was there? He's tall and looming! But he has the presence of mind, at least, to catch her hand and steady it to keep the water from spilling. It'd be a real waste to lose that now. To say the least.]

[adamantlyardent]

[she flusters, hugging the basket to herself as she flinches away.] I'm sorry! Sorry! Please, please...I need to go! It's almost sundown, and if I don't get this back, I'm dead either way!

[mycrosstobear]

[He removes his hand and holds both of them up in the universal symbol of 'I'm not armed, calm down.' (Well, he may or may not be armed with spells now. Still.)]

Just make sure you don't trip.

[adamantlyardent]

I! I won't!

[she's gone in a flurry of fluster and curls, hustling back to the house deliver the basket to the kitchen and report to the witch. she held her breath as her work was surveyed, nearly burst into tears again when she was scrutinized for cheating or using a trick, and Cecelia was certain she was done for...

...until she wasn't. the task was done, and the witch was a woman of her word, no matter how cruel it was. despite sensing the trickery, she was bound to honor the promise to not kill the girl if the deed was done, even if it was done in a way she hadn't expected.

curious...

the sun set and Cecelia lived - she could scarcely believe it, could scarcely sleep because of it. more than that... he meant what he said. he said he'd help her, and he did. why, though...?]

Why...did you do that?

[she's snuck out of the closet the witch kept her in, quietly crept around the house until she could find the witch's son. even if he was still scary, she couldn't help her curiosity - it was stronger than fear. she just escaped death because of him, after all! what's his play?]