Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Feb 19, 2008 19:53:26 GMT -5
Title: Hallway Conversation
Cast: Emma Squalor; Faust Widdershins; Vice Principal Nero
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Series of Unfortunate Events characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. The characters of Emma Salinger Squalor and Faust Widdershins belong to me.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Story-Type: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Summery: Two students converse outside the office of Vice Principal Nero while waiting to be seen for separate offenses.
Author’s Note: For those of you who don’t like original characters, I advise you to click the back button. NOW!!!
Disrupting class indeed.
Faust Widdershins frowned down at the pink slip that Mrs. Bass had placed in her student’s hand before sending her off to the administrative building.
It wasn’t Faust’s fault that Thomas Leagan had repeatedly poked her in the back with the pencil he was supposed to be measuring. Never mind that the point was facing straight out and had been recently sharpened. It was only natural that Faust had turned around and smacked Thomas on the head with the ruler she had been using to measure the skeleton of a cat.
Although she hadn’t intended to break Mrs. Bass’s ruler in the process.
Faust was a pretty girl of ten, with bright green eyes and wavy blonde hair cut just above her shoulders. She was rather small for her age, but was able to use this to her advantage when it came to acrobatics. She wondered why her days at Prufrock Preparatory School couldn’t be spent swinging from tree to tree outside instead of sitting inside a stuffy old classroom and listening to her teacher drone on and on about something as boring as the metric system.
Sighing in frustration, Faust leaned her head back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. Any minute now, the atrocious violin playing coming from inside Vice Principal Nero’s office was going to cease and the door would open. Then he would ask Faust what sort of trouble she had caused this time and tell her to come inside. They would spend a few minutes discussing the reason she was there and after that Nero would tell Faust her punishment, which would be to buy him a large bag of candy and watch him eat it.
It would be all Thomas Leagan’s fault if the Widdershins ended up in the poorhouse.
Faust was just about to get up and knock on the door to remind Vice Principal Nero that she was still waiting to see him when the approaching echo of what sounded like stiletto heels caught her attention. She lifted her head and turned to see a girl a few years older than herself turn the corner and approach her.
As the girl sat down beside her, Faust stared in curiosity at the one thing that clearly made this other girl different from all of the other students at Prufrock Prep. It wasn’t that she was tall, or that her eyes were as blue as the sky or that they shone brilliantly like two pearls. It was the fact that she had a very unusual feature— which just so happened to be her one single eyebrow.
The girl seemed to have caught Faust staring at her, and she turned to fix Faust with her shiny, shiny eyes. “You know,” the girl said crossly, “you really shouldn’t stare at people. It’s very rude.”
“I’m sorry,” Faust said, feeling her face grow hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that…”
“You were looking at my eyebrow,” the girl said.
Faust bit her lip and lowered her eyes to the floor. “Y— yes.”
“It’s okay. Many people do. I suppose I’m used to it by now.”
Still too ashamed to lift her head, Faust kept her focus on her shoes.
“By the way,” said the girl, “what are you in for?”
Surprised by the kindness of the tone, Faust looked up. “Disrupting class,” she replied.
The girl laughed. “Oh? And what exactly was it that you did?”
“This boy in my class wouldn’t quit bothering me, so I hit him in the head with my ruler.”
“Ouch.” The girl smiled. “For him, I mean.”
Faust chuckled. “Well, he deserved it,” she explained. “He was poking me in the back with his pencil.” Then she paused. “What about you? What did you that got you a one-way pink slip to the administrative building?”
The girl gave a sly smile before replying. “When I overheard Davey Foxworth saying things about my mother to his friends, I kicked him in a very sensitive spot.”
Faust glanced down at the girl’s stilettos, which looked even sharper up close. “With those shoes?”she asked.
The girl nodded.
“Did you hurt him?”
“Well, judging by the way he collapsed on the floor after I finished with him,” said the girl, “my answer would be ‘yes’. Anyway, as my mother says, revenge is sweet.”
“Yes,” Faust agreed. “Until you get into trouble.”
“Hey, just look at who you’re talking to. I’m in here at least four times a week.”
Faust’s eyes widened with disbelief. “You’re in here that often?” she exclaimed. “How do your parents afford to buy all that candy?”
“My mother and stepfather are very wealthy,” the girl said. “They can afford it.”
“Oh.”
Knowing this made Faust wary of explaining how her father was employed at the Not So Supermarket and earned very little money, or how her mother was a retired carnival performer. Faust had a strong feeling that exposing these truths might make the other girl laugh at her the way the other kids did… at which point Faust would be forced to throw a punch or two her way. Then Faust would be in twice the amount of trouble she already was.
“By the way,” the girl went on, “my name is Emma Esmélita Salinger Squalor.” Smiling, she held out her hand to Faust.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, and shook Emma’s hand. “I’m Faust Widdershins.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before,” Emma said. “Did you just transfer?”
Faust nodded. “Just this year.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Fourth,” Faust replied. “And you?”
“Seventh,” Emma told her.
“That would make you the same age as my aunt. Hey! I wonder if you know her.”
“I might. What’s her name?”
“Beatrice Baudelaire,” said Faust.
Emma’s eyes widened, and a big smile spread over her pretty face. “You’re kidding,” she said. “Beatrice Baudelaire is only my best friend on Earth!”
“Come to think of it, she has mentioned you. Several times, in fact.”
Emma wished she could say the same about Faust, but she just couldn’t. If she did, then it would be a lie. One of the things Jerome had taught her was to always tell the truth, and she kept this in mind as she continued her conversation with Faust.
“So,” Emma said, “you must know Violet and Klaus.”
“A little,” Faust said. “But mostly through what Sunny and Beatrice have told me. Sunny is—”
“Beatrice’s older sister. I know.”
“Anyway, Violet and Klaus don’t seem to like my parents very much, but tolerate Cody and me. Cody’s my younger brother. I’ve tried asking Mom and Dad why Violet and Klaus don’t like them, but they refuse to tell me anything. I know Klaus’s wife is my dad’s sister. She’s a mycologist— that’s somebody who studies mushrooms —and will call us whenever Klaus isn’t around. I like her. She gave me a microscope for my birthday last year.”
Emma nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Although she wasn’t sure who Faust’s parents were exactly, Emma had a sneaking suspicion they had been associated with Esmé (her mother) and biological father long ago. That would certainly account for Violet and Klaus Baudelaire not liking them.
“The Baudelaires are friends of my mother and stepfather,” Emma said, deliberately leaving out the part about the grudge Klaus held against Esmé. “So maybe they know your parents, too.”
“Maybe,” Faust admitted. “Where do you live?”
“667 Dark Avenue. But what does that have to do with—”
“667 Dark Avenue? Isn’t that a rich people’s neighborhood?”
Emma smiled, somewhat embarrassed. She managed to restrain herself from revealing just how wealthy her parents were most of the time, unless of course it was absolutely necessary. This, however, was one of the times where it just wouldn’t pay to be modest. “Well, yes,” she replied, and then added, “It’s just a few blocks away from where the Baudelaires live.”
“I know,” Faust said. “I’ve taken a cab to their house a few times.”
“Where do you live?”
“72 Lousy Lane. And I hate it.”
“Why’s that?” Emma asked.
“Because,” Faust explained, “the entire area smells like horseradish. Not to mention our house is on a slant. Even the driveway seems to be tilted. Just last week after Dad parked the car it rolled down the hill and overturned our mailbox.”
Now Emma felt just plain guilty for living in an enormous penthouse apartment complete with seventy-one bedrooms, a number of living rooms, dining rooms, breakfast rooms, snack rooms, sitting rooms, standing rooms, ballrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, and an assortment of rooms that seemed to have no purpose at all.
“Is something wrong?” Faust asked, noticing the troubled expression on Emma’s face.
The elder girl shook his head. “No,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m just trying to think of a way to explain what happened between Davey and me to Vice Principal Nero so it won’t look like I’m totally to blame.”
“But you were defending your mother! That should be the only explanation you need. I would have done the same thing if it was one of my parents he was talking about. To be honest, most of the fights I get into are over things people have said about my parents.”
“People say things about your parents?”
Faust nodded.
“What kinds of things?” Emma asked.
“Well,” Faust began. “It’s more my dad than my mom that people talk about. Um…” She tapped her lower lip, contemplating for a moment. “Did you ever read the book Peter Pan by Sir James Matthew Barrie?”
“My stepfather read it to me when I was a little girl. And I played Wendy in a theatrical production three years ago.”
“Then you know who Captain Hook is.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “But what does Peter Pan have to do with your family?”
“Do you remember how he had a hook for a hand?” Faust said.
Emma nodded.
“Well, my dad has two of them.”
“Do you mean hooks? Or hands?”
“Hooks.”
“And that’s why people make fun of him?”
“Yeah,” Faust replied.
“What about your mother?” Emma inquired.
“She’s a contortionist— or she used to be. She was working at a carnival when she met my dad.”
“A contortionist? Isn’t that someone who can—”
“Twist their body into all sorts of unusual shapes?” Faust finished. “That’s right. People make of my mom, just not as much as my dad.”
“But why should anyone make fun of a contortionist?” said Emma.
“Because contorting has always been widely recognized as something that only a… a freak would do.” As Faust uttered the word “freak”, she turned her head and for a moment focused her eyes straight ahead at the wall.
“What’s wrong, Faust?”
But Faust only shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied, and turned to smile at Emma. “I’m okay. Thanks for listening to me.”
Emma smiled back. “You’re welcome,” she said.
As the students’ conversation came to an end, so did the screechings and scrapings of Vice Principal Nero’s violin. A moment later, the door to his office opened and he poked his head out into the hallway.
“Miss Widdershins,” he said. “I’m ready to—” He stopped, scanning his eyes over Emma. “Miss Squalor. Why am I not surprised to see you here?”
“Hello, sir,” Emma replied, as if being summoned to the vice principal’s office almost every other day wasn't any big deal.
“I’ll be speaking to you next. Miss Widdershins— right this way, please.”
Nero slipped back inside his office, and Faust got up to follow him. As she was turning away, she felt Emma place a hand on hers.
“Good luck,” Emma said.
With a smile, Faust nodded and then hurried after Nero.
Emma listened to the door close and then leaned back in her chair. Once again the hallway became quiet, and the only sound was the click-click-clacking of her stiletto heels as she tapped them against the tiled floor.
Cast: Emma Squalor; Faust Widdershins; Vice Principal Nero
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Series of Unfortunate Events characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. The characters of Emma Salinger Squalor and Faust Widdershins belong to me.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Story-Type: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Summery: Two students converse outside the office of Vice Principal Nero while waiting to be seen for separate offenses.
Author’s Note: For those of you who don’t like original characters, I advise you to click the back button. NOW!!!
*************************************************************************************************************
Disrupting class indeed.
Faust Widdershins frowned down at the pink slip that Mrs. Bass had placed in her student’s hand before sending her off to the administrative building.
It wasn’t Faust’s fault that Thomas Leagan had repeatedly poked her in the back with the pencil he was supposed to be measuring. Never mind that the point was facing straight out and had been recently sharpened. It was only natural that Faust had turned around and smacked Thomas on the head with the ruler she had been using to measure the skeleton of a cat.
Although she hadn’t intended to break Mrs. Bass’s ruler in the process.
Faust was a pretty girl of ten, with bright green eyes and wavy blonde hair cut just above her shoulders. She was rather small for her age, but was able to use this to her advantage when it came to acrobatics. She wondered why her days at Prufrock Preparatory School couldn’t be spent swinging from tree to tree outside instead of sitting inside a stuffy old classroom and listening to her teacher drone on and on about something as boring as the metric system.
Sighing in frustration, Faust leaned her head back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. Any minute now, the atrocious violin playing coming from inside Vice Principal Nero’s office was going to cease and the door would open. Then he would ask Faust what sort of trouble she had caused this time and tell her to come inside. They would spend a few minutes discussing the reason she was there and after that Nero would tell Faust her punishment, which would be to buy him a large bag of candy and watch him eat it.
It would be all Thomas Leagan’s fault if the Widdershins ended up in the poorhouse.
Faust was just about to get up and knock on the door to remind Vice Principal Nero that she was still waiting to see him when the approaching echo of what sounded like stiletto heels caught her attention. She lifted her head and turned to see a girl a few years older than herself turn the corner and approach her.
As the girl sat down beside her, Faust stared in curiosity at the one thing that clearly made this other girl different from all of the other students at Prufrock Prep. It wasn’t that she was tall, or that her eyes were as blue as the sky or that they shone brilliantly like two pearls. It was the fact that she had a very unusual feature— which just so happened to be her one single eyebrow.
The girl seemed to have caught Faust staring at her, and she turned to fix Faust with her shiny, shiny eyes. “You know,” the girl said crossly, “you really shouldn’t stare at people. It’s very rude.”
“I’m sorry,” Faust said, feeling her face grow hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that…”
“You were looking at my eyebrow,” the girl said.
Faust bit her lip and lowered her eyes to the floor. “Y— yes.”
“It’s okay. Many people do. I suppose I’m used to it by now.”
Still too ashamed to lift her head, Faust kept her focus on her shoes.
“By the way,” said the girl, “what are you in for?”
Surprised by the kindness of the tone, Faust looked up. “Disrupting class,” she replied.
The girl laughed. “Oh? And what exactly was it that you did?”
“This boy in my class wouldn’t quit bothering me, so I hit him in the head with my ruler.”
“Ouch.” The girl smiled. “For him, I mean.”
Faust chuckled. “Well, he deserved it,” she explained. “He was poking me in the back with his pencil.” Then she paused. “What about you? What did you that got you a one-way pink slip to the administrative building?”
The girl gave a sly smile before replying. “When I overheard Davey Foxworth saying things about my mother to his friends, I kicked him in a very sensitive spot.”
Faust glanced down at the girl’s stilettos, which looked even sharper up close. “With those shoes?”she asked.
The girl nodded.
“Did you hurt him?”
“Well, judging by the way he collapsed on the floor after I finished with him,” said the girl, “my answer would be ‘yes’. Anyway, as my mother says, revenge is sweet.”
“Yes,” Faust agreed. “Until you get into trouble.”
“Hey, just look at who you’re talking to. I’m in here at least four times a week.”
Faust’s eyes widened with disbelief. “You’re in here that often?” she exclaimed. “How do your parents afford to buy all that candy?”
“My mother and stepfather are very wealthy,” the girl said. “They can afford it.”
“Oh.”
Knowing this made Faust wary of explaining how her father was employed at the Not So Supermarket and earned very little money, or how her mother was a retired carnival performer. Faust had a strong feeling that exposing these truths might make the other girl laugh at her the way the other kids did… at which point Faust would be forced to throw a punch or two her way. Then Faust would be in twice the amount of trouble she already was.
“By the way,” the girl went on, “my name is Emma Esmélita Salinger Squalor.” Smiling, she held out her hand to Faust.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, and shook Emma’s hand. “I’m Faust Widdershins.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before,” Emma said. “Did you just transfer?”
Faust nodded. “Just this year.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Fourth,” Faust replied. “And you?”
“Seventh,” Emma told her.
“That would make you the same age as my aunt. Hey! I wonder if you know her.”
“I might. What’s her name?”
“Beatrice Baudelaire,” said Faust.
Emma’s eyes widened, and a big smile spread over her pretty face. “You’re kidding,” she said. “Beatrice Baudelaire is only my best friend on Earth!”
“Come to think of it, she has mentioned you. Several times, in fact.”
Emma wished she could say the same about Faust, but she just couldn’t. If she did, then it would be a lie. One of the things Jerome had taught her was to always tell the truth, and she kept this in mind as she continued her conversation with Faust.
“So,” Emma said, “you must know Violet and Klaus.”
“A little,” Faust said. “But mostly through what Sunny and Beatrice have told me. Sunny is—”
“Beatrice’s older sister. I know.”
“Anyway, Violet and Klaus don’t seem to like my parents very much, but tolerate Cody and me. Cody’s my younger brother. I’ve tried asking Mom and Dad why Violet and Klaus don’t like them, but they refuse to tell me anything. I know Klaus’s wife is my dad’s sister. She’s a mycologist— that’s somebody who studies mushrooms —and will call us whenever Klaus isn’t around. I like her. She gave me a microscope for my birthday last year.”
Emma nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. Although she wasn’t sure who Faust’s parents were exactly, Emma had a sneaking suspicion they had been associated with Esmé (her mother) and biological father long ago. That would certainly account for Violet and Klaus Baudelaire not liking them.
“The Baudelaires are friends of my mother and stepfather,” Emma said, deliberately leaving out the part about the grudge Klaus held against Esmé. “So maybe they know your parents, too.”
“Maybe,” Faust admitted. “Where do you live?”
“667 Dark Avenue. But what does that have to do with—”
“667 Dark Avenue? Isn’t that a rich people’s neighborhood?”
Emma smiled, somewhat embarrassed. She managed to restrain herself from revealing just how wealthy her parents were most of the time, unless of course it was absolutely necessary. This, however, was one of the times where it just wouldn’t pay to be modest. “Well, yes,” she replied, and then added, “It’s just a few blocks away from where the Baudelaires live.”
“I know,” Faust said. “I’ve taken a cab to their house a few times.”
“Where do you live?”
“72 Lousy Lane. And I hate it.”
“Why’s that?” Emma asked.
“Because,” Faust explained, “the entire area smells like horseradish. Not to mention our house is on a slant. Even the driveway seems to be tilted. Just last week after Dad parked the car it rolled down the hill and overturned our mailbox.”
Now Emma felt just plain guilty for living in an enormous penthouse apartment complete with seventy-one bedrooms, a number of living rooms, dining rooms, breakfast rooms, snack rooms, sitting rooms, standing rooms, ballrooms, bathrooms, kitchens, and an assortment of rooms that seemed to have no purpose at all.
“Is something wrong?” Faust asked, noticing the troubled expression on Emma’s face.
The elder girl shook his head. “No,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m just trying to think of a way to explain what happened between Davey and me to Vice Principal Nero so it won’t look like I’m totally to blame.”
“But you were defending your mother! That should be the only explanation you need. I would have done the same thing if it was one of my parents he was talking about. To be honest, most of the fights I get into are over things people have said about my parents.”
“People say things about your parents?”
Faust nodded.
“What kinds of things?” Emma asked.
“Well,” Faust began. “It’s more my dad than my mom that people talk about. Um…” She tapped her lower lip, contemplating for a moment. “Did you ever read the book Peter Pan by Sir James Matthew Barrie?”
“My stepfather read it to me when I was a little girl. And I played Wendy in a theatrical production three years ago.”
“Then you know who Captain Hook is.”
“Yes,” Emma said. “But what does Peter Pan have to do with your family?”
“Do you remember how he had a hook for a hand?” Faust said.
Emma nodded.
“Well, my dad has two of them.”
“Do you mean hooks? Or hands?”
“Hooks.”
“And that’s why people make fun of him?”
“Yeah,” Faust replied.
“What about your mother?” Emma inquired.
“She’s a contortionist— or she used to be. She was working at a carnival when she met my dad.”
“A contortionist? Isn’t that someone who can—”
“Twist their body into all sorts of unusual shapes?” Faust finished. “That’s right. People make of my mom, just not as much as my dad.”
“But why should anyone make fun of a contortionist?” said Emma.
“Because contorting has always been widely recognized as something that only a… a freak would do.” As Faust uttered the word “freak”, she turned her head and for a moment focused her eyes straight ahead at the wall.
“What’s wrong, Faust?”
But Faust only shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied, and turned to smile at Emma. “I’m okay. Thanks for listening to me.”
Emma smiled back. “You’re welcome,” she said.
As the students’ conversation came to an end, so did the screechings and scrapings of Vice Principal Nero’s violin. A moment later, the door to his office opened and he poked his head out into the hallway.
“Miss Widdershins,” he said. “I’m ready to—” He stopped, scanning his eyes over Emma. “Miss Squalor. Why am I not surprised to see you here?”
“Hello, sir,” Emma replied, as if being summoned to the vice principal’s office almost every other day wasn't any big deal.
“I’ll be speaking to you next. Miss Widdershins— right this way, please.”
Nero slipped back inside his office, and Faust got up to follow him. As she was turning away, she felt Emma place a hand on hers.
“Good luck,” Emma said.
With a smile, Faust nodded and then hurried after Nero.
Emma listened to the door close and then leaned back in her chair. Once again the hallway became quiet, and the only sound was the click-click-clacking of her stiletto heels as she tapped them against the tiled floor.
The End