Post by champ103 on Oct 11, 2004 13:24:49 GMT -5
Book The Twelfth
The Perilous Plane
Author's Notes: Sounds repetitive, like this is a 'basic' fic, roling a future book. It is just that, but I really believe I have a good story line here, as I've planned it all out, not just written as I've thought. Please read, review, and enjoy (: Maybe Chapter pictures coming soon (:
Book The Twelfth
The Perilous Plane
Dear Reader,
Unlike the words ‘picnic’, ‘chocolate’ and ‘lullaby’, the word ‘perilous’ is not a word that is pleasant, or fills young children with glee, which is why the second you see the title of this book, you should quickly stop seeing it, and search for brighter names, for it is not just the title of this book that is perilous, but almost everything inside is as well.
The items inside this book, including a large fly swatter, complicated controls, an aeronautic, a troublesome tale, a shocking return, and a clarinet are so perilous, you might want to place this perilous book down, before you read the perilous words, and never have a goods night sleep again.
It is my sworn duty to write down the events in the young lives of the Baudelaire children, but by no means is it yours to read it, so run off and do less perilous things including picnics, chocolate, and lullabies, and forget about the whole perilous thing.
With all due respect
Lemony Snicket
For Beatrice-
The thought of you in my mind, unlike you yourself
Shall never die.
Chapter One
A poem I know very well, written by an old associate is
the only way to begin this book of woe and misery. The poem is called ‘The Waste Land’, by T.S Elliot. The verse I can most associate with the Baudelaire’s mentions many things, including a violet hour, a human engine, and eyes turning upwards, but when the Baudelaire’s arrived at Briny Beach, and decoded a telegram, there is one part of the poem, right at the end of the previously mentioned verse which could be connected. The line is ‘Like a taxi throbbing waiting’, and although it does not associate with the whole story of the Baudelaire’s, it does so with what they found at Briny Beach, the same place as where they were told their parents were killed in a horrific fire which destroyed the mansion in which they had grown up.
Inside a taxi waiting, the Baudelaire’s put on their seatbelts quietly, giving each other nervous looks, wondering where they were off to, or what the woman driving wanted. Her name was Kit Snicket, and a Captain named Widdershins had told the three children that she was a good woman, who had helped built his submarine. But as the children closed the door behind them, they couldn’t help but wonder if the situation would turn unfortunate, and they would find themselves yet again in a web of misery and woe. The sun was up on what would seem a pleasant enough Monday morning: only three days away from a meeting at the Hotel Denouement, where members of a mysterious organization named V.F.D were planning to gather. The Baudelaire’s did not know what V.F.D stood for, or what they exactly did, and were hoping to find out. Recently, they had been on the search in a dangerous grotto looking for the sugar bowl: an item wanted by the volunteers, good and bad, but even then they did not know what it was, or why it was so important.
‘Are we all ready to go?’ said Kit Snicket, fastening her own seatbelt, and turning back to the Baudelaire’s with a kind grin on her face.
‘Go where?’ Violet asked, confused.
‘Denouement?’ Sunny asked eagerly?
‘It’s only Monday, Baudelaire’s,’ Kit replied, and turned to face the steering wheel. From the window, the Baudelaire’s could see Mr. Poe running towards them, with a handkerchief in one hand. Mr. Poe was in charge of their enormous fortune, and the children had not seen him for a long time. They would have gone with him, and where he wanted them to go, but a telegram sent to them by a particular Quigley Quagmire, who was a cartographer, and the third of three triplets. He was thought to be dead by his other two siblings, Duncan and Isadora, but they had no way of knowing he had survived the deadly fire in their house, as they were in a self-sustaining hot air balloon home, invented by a man named Hector, who was with them in it, and with a little help from Violet.
‘Well, then where are we going?’ Klaus asked.
‘Are you a volunteer?’ Violet asked.
‘What’s sugar bowl?’ Sunny questioned.
‘Baudelaire’s,’ Kit said with a chuckle, as they pulled out from where they were parked. The children could briefly here Mr. Poe’s cries as he rushed up to them, but Kit pressed her foot down on the accelerator, and the car started to drive away before he got close enough. The children saw him through the right-side window, panting, and stopping by the side of Briny Beach, as he gave up and started coughing into his handkerchief. Kit saw them as they looked away, and postponed what she was to say, until Mr. Poe was out of site, and the Baudelaire’s were looking back at her.
‘It’s not easy to just answer your questions,’ she said,’ I am a volunteer. But the other two we can’t quite answer now. Unless someone’s around: the other side of V.F.D could have gotten into the taxi, as they’ve done to our jeeps, and maybe bugged it or something. We can’t take our chances.’
‘Oh,’ Violet said, angry that her questions couldn’t be answered at that precise moment. She looked to the side at her sister and her brother, and saw the same expression on their faces. All three Baudelaire children were hungry for answers, after wanting them for so long, and the idea of having to wait for them made them frustrated, yet full of anticipation.
‘For the meantime,’ Kit said,’ what do you three want to talk about?’ This question had an answer anyone could know.
‘Inventions,’ Violet said,’ I’ve been interested in telegram devices after checking out the one at the Queequeg. I’ve always known the basics with them, but maybe we could discuss it further.’
‘Books,’ Klaus said. ‘After our stay in these uniforms, I’ve been quite thirsty for reading some Herman Melville literature. I’d love to discuss your interests in him.’
‘Cooking timequeg youintest,’ Sunny said, and Violet quickly explained.
‘She means she’d loved to discuss cooking. After her time in a proper kitchen at the Queequeg, her interest had developed further, and she’d like to know your interests in it.’
It suddenly seemed like Kit was a woman they knew very well, and they felt free to talk to her as if they were a friend from school, or a neighbour they had known for years. But they had only known Kit for a very short time, only since they had arrived at the taxi about ten minutes before.
‘You certainly have unique interests,’ Kit said, using a word which here means ‘individual, and quite super’. ‘I don’t know much about telegram devices. The one on board is getting very rusty, and the telegram we received yesterday was the first in ages. Klaus, I’m not too familiar with Herman Melville’s stories. I’m more into different poetry instead. Except for maybe Edgar Guest…And talking of the uniforms you’re wearing, do you have your regular clothes underneath?’ The children nodded, as Kit looked back. ‘Good,’ she said,’ Well take them off if you want. You must be very wet.’
The children shrugged, and grinned as they finally took off the big slippery uniforms. They undid the large zips and straps, and wriggled them off, pulling up the sleeves, and pulling down the legs of the uniforms. Soon, the Herman Melville portraits just lay at their feet, and they felt happy in their regular clothing.
‘Me?’ Sunny then asked.
‘Ah yes,’ Kit said, facing the steering wheel, and turning a sharp corner. ‘I like cooking if I say so myself. I do it all the time for father at that trainee who’s with us at the moment…Harriet I believe. I’m sure we can prepare some wonderful meals together.’
Sunny gave a toothy grin with her very sharp teeth, which she was growing into. All three Baudelaires looked out of the window, and admired the passing view of the morning, until Kit gave them an offer.
‘I have some sandwiches for lunch,’ she said, pointing to a bag in the passenger seat. Sorry this is taking so long…we’ll be there very soon I hope.’
‘It’s okay,’ Klaus said, as Kit passed the brown back to the back row. ‘The scenery is beautiful, and these seats are quite comfortable.’ Sunny picked up a sandwich, with strawberry jam in it.
‘Thank you!’ she replied in a squeal. A grin stretched over Kit’s face.
‘No problem’ she said,’ I’m so glad I’m finally getting to meet you. It’s my pleasure.’
‘I’m chuffed,’ Violet’s said.
The saying ‘I’m chuffed’ has nothing to do with chuffs, of chuffing, or any train of some sort. It simply means that you are very happy that someone thinks highly of you, and in this case, not just one of the three Baudelaire’s felt chuffed, but all of them did, as they relaxed in the back seat of the taxi, chewing on sandwiches. Violet took a bite into a peanut butter sandwich, and felt safe to be away from underneath the water, dealing with dangerous fungi. Klaus swallowed a mouthful of chocolate spread, and felt thankful they were safe in the taxi, with Kit Snicket. And Sunny gnawed at a strawberry jam sandwich, and just appreciated the fact she was still with her two siblings, no matter what they had been through. All three Baudelaire’s snacked inside the taxi, and felt chuffed that they had gone so far, and felt safe and happy. Soon enough, the car turned away from the main cities, and entered another desolate area. It reminded the children of the flat areas of the Village Of Fowl Devotees, or the area around Heimlich Hospital, and the hinterlands, where Caligari Carnival once stood. They realized their journey might as well have been a big desolate area, with nowhere to hide maybe from except behind a cactus from Count Olaf and his horrible schemes.
The Perilous Plane
Author's Notes: Sounds repetitive, like this is a 'basic' fic, roling a future book. It is just that, but I really believe I have a good story line here, as I've planned it all out, not just written as I've thought. Please read, review, and enjoy (: Maybe Chapter pictures coming soon (:
Book The Twelfth
The Perilous Plane
Dear Reader,
Unlike the words ‘picnic’, ‘chocolate’ and ‘lullaby’, the word ‘perilous’ is not a word that is pleasant, or fills young children with glee, which is why the second you see the title of this book, you should quickly stop seeing it, and search for brighter names, for it is not just the title of this book that is perilous, but almost everything inside is as well.
The items inside this book, including a large fly swatter, complicated controls, an aeronautic, a troublesome tale, a shocking return, and a clarinet are so perilous, you might want to place this perilous book down, before you read the perilous words, and never have a goods night sleep again.
It is my sworn duty to write down the events in the young lives of the Baudelaire children, but by no means is it yours to read it, so run off and do less perilous things including picnics, chocolate, and lullabies, and forget about the whole perilous thing.
With all due respect
Lemony Snicket
For Beatrice-
The thought of you in my mind, unlike you yourself
Shall never die.
Chapter One
A poem I know very well, written by an old associate is
the only way to begin this book of woe and misery. The poem is called ‘The Waste Land’, by T.S Elliot. The verse I can most associate with the Baudelaire’s mentions many things, including a violet hour, a human engine, and eyes turning upwards, but when the Baudelaire’s arrived at Briny Beach, and decoded a telegram, there is one part of the poem, right at the end of the previously mentioned verse which could be connected. The line is ‘Like a taxi throbbing waiting’, and although it does not associate with the whole story of the Baudelaire’s, it does so with what they found at Briny Beach, the same place as where they were told their parents were killed in a horrific fire which destroyed the mansion in which they had grown up.
Inside a taxi waiting, the Baudelaire’s put on their seatbelts quietly, giving each other nervous looks, wondering where they were off to, or what the woman driving wanted. Her name was Kit Snicket, and a Captain named Widdershins had told the three children that she was a good woman, who had helped built his submarine. But as the children closed the door behind them, they couldn’t help but wonder if the situation would turn unfortunate, and they would find themselves yet again in a web of misery and woe. The sun was up on what would seem a pleasant enough Monday morning: only three days away from a meeting at the Hotel Denouement, where members of a mysterious organization named V.F.D were planning to gather. The Baudelaire’s did not know what V.F.D stood for, or what they exactly did, and were hoping to find out. Recently, they had been on the search in a dangerous grotto looking for the sugar bowl: an item wanted by the volunteers, good and bad, but even then they did not know what it was, or why it was so important.
‘Are we all ready to go?’ said Kit Snicket, fastening her own seatbelt, and turning back to the Baudelaire’s with a kind grin on her face.
‘Go where?’ Violet asked, confused.
‘Denouement?’ Sunny asked eagerly?
‘It’s only Monday, Baudelaire’s,’ Kit replied, and turned to face the steering wheel. From the window, the Baudelaire’s could see Mr. Poe running towards them, with a handkerchief in one hand. Mr. Poe was in charge of their enormous fortune, and the children had not seen him for a long time. They would have gone with him, and where he wanted them to go, but a telegram sent to them by a particular Quigley Quagmire, who was a cartographer, and the third of three triplets. He was thought to be dead by his other two siblings, Duncan and Isadora, but they had no way of knowing he had survived the deadly fire in their house, as they were in a self-sustaining hot air balloon home, invented by a man named Hector, who was with them in it, and with a little help from Violet.
‘Well, then where are we going?’ Klaus asked.
‘Are you a volunteer?’ Violet asked.
‘What’s sugar bowl?’ Sunny questioned.
‘Baudelaire’s,’ Kit said with a chuckle, as they pulled out from where they were parked. The children could briefly here Mr. Poe’s cries as he rushed up to them, but Kit pressed her foot down on the accelerator, and the car started to drive away before he got close enough. The children saw him through the right-side window, panting, and stopping by the side of Briny Beach, as he gave up and started coughing into his handkerchief. Kit saw them as they looked away, and postponed what she was to say, until Mr. Poe was out of site, and the Baudelaire’s were looking back at her.
‘It’s not easy to just answer your questions,’ she said,’ I am a volunteer. But the other two we can’t quite answer now. Unless someone’s around: the other side of V.F.D could have gotten into the taxi, as they’ve done to our jeeps, and maybe bugged it or something. We can’t take our chances.’
‘Oh,’ Violet said, angry that her questions couldn’t be answered at that precise moment. She looked to the side at her sister and her brother, and saw the same expression on their faces. All three Baudelaire children were hungry for answers, after wanting them for so long, and the idea of having to wait for them made them frustrated, yet full of anticipation.
‘For the meantime,’ Kit said,’ what do you three want to talk about?’ This question had an answer anyone could know.
‘Inventions,’ Violet said,’ I’ve been interested in telegram devices after checking out the one at the Queequeg. I’ve always known the basics with them, but maybe we could discuss it further.’
‘Books,’ Klaus said. ‘After our stay in these uniforms, I’ve been quite thirsty for reading some Herman Melville literature. I’d love to discuss your interests in him.’
‘Cooking timequeg youintest,’ Sunny said, and Violet quickly explained.
‘She means she’d loved to discuss cooking. After her time in a proper kitchen at the Queequeg, her interest had developed further, and she’d like to know your interests in it.’
It suddenly seemed like Kit was a woman they knew very well, and they felt free to talk to her as if they were a friend from school, or a neighbour they had known for years. But they had only known Kit for a very short time, only since they had arrived at the taxi about ten minutes before.
‘You certainly have unique interests,’ Kit said, using a word which here means ‘individual, and quite super’. ‘I don’t know much about telegram devices. The one on board is getting very rusty, and the telegram we received yesterday was the first in ages. Klaus, I’m not too familiar with Herman Melville’s stories. I’m more into different poetry instead. Except for maybe Edgar Guest…And talking of the uniforms you’re wearing, do you have your regular clothes underneath?’ The children nodded, as Kit looked back. ‘Good,’ she said,’ Well take them off if you want. You must be very wet.’
The children shrugged, and grinned as they finally took off the big slippery uniforms. They undid the large zips and straps, and wriggled them off, pulling up the sleeves, and pulling down the legs of the uniforms. Soon, the Herman Melville portraits just lay at their feet, and they felt happy in their regular clothing.
‘Me?’ Sunny then asked.
‘Ah yes,’ Kit said, facing the steering wheel, and turning a sharp corner. ‘I like cooking if I say so myself. I do it all the time for father at that trainee who’s with us at the moment…Harriet I believe. I’m sure we can prepare some wonderful meals together.’
Sunny gave a toothy grin with her very sharp teeth, which she was growing into. All three Baudelaires looked out of the window, and admired the passing view of the morning, until Kit gave them an offer.
‘I have some sandwiches for lunch,’ she said, pointing to a bag in the passenger seat. Sorry this is taking so long…we’ll be there very soon I hope.’
‘It’s okay,’ Klaus said, as Kit passed the brown back to the back row. ‘The scenery is beautiful, and these seats are quite comfortable.’ Sunny picked up a sandwich, with strawberry jam in it.
‘Thank you!’ she replied in a squeal. A grin stretched over Kit’s face.
‘No problem’ she said,’ I’m so glad I’m finally getting to meet you. It’s my pleasure.’
‘I’m chuffed,’ Violet’s said.
The saying ‘I’m chuffed’ has nothing to do with chuffs, of chuffing, or any train of some sort. It simply means that you are very happy that someone thinks highly of you, and in this case, not just one of the three Baudelaire’s felt chuffed, but all of them did, as they relaxed in the back seat of the taxi, chewing on sandwiches. Violet took a bite into a peanut butter sandwich, and felt safe to be away from underneath the water, dealing with dangerous fungi. Klaus swallowed a mouthful of chocolate spread, and felt thankful they were safe in the taxi, with Kit Snicket. And Sunny gnawed at a strawberry jam sandwich, and just appreciated the fact she was still with her two siblings, no matter what they had been through. All three Baudelaire’s snacked inside the taxi, and felt chuffed that they had gone so far, and felt safe and happy. Soon enough, the car turned away from the main cities, and entered another desolate area. It reminded the children of the flat areas of the Village Of Fowl Devotees, or the area around Heimlich Hospital, and the hinterlands, where Caligari Carnival once stood. They realized their journey might as well have been a big desolate area, with nowhere to hide maybe from except behind a cactus from Count Olaf and his horrible schemes.