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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 5, 2006 8:20:01 GMT -5
After a rather frantic and interesting conversation with his sister, Jacques walked off to a certain row to his right. He could see Olaf and the man with a beard but no hair and the woman with hair but no beard sitting next to one another. "Kit," said Jacques, "I am going to see if I can infiltrate one of the Opera Boxes that are occupied by our enemies." "Alright, Jacques, be careful." she replied, and gave him a quick embrace. He walked off toward the stairwell, not the elevator, as the elevator attendant was a villain. He could tell from his downcast eyes and evil demeanor. And so he began his climb.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 5, 2006 15:28:16 GMT -5
(Awe! I love that you post a lot Jenny! I post a lot too. I'm used to rping in real time on IMs.)
Esme checked her makeup quickly in the bathroom before returning to her seat where Olaf sat quietly. "I couldn't find them. "she said looking at him hoping that he wouldn't disapprove too much. "I hugged her but I didn't feel anything. "I tried. I promise. " Esme said quietly.
She crossed her legs and looked down at the stage waiting for his answer. Then the lights started to dim down signaling the show was about to start. Esme picked up her ploy bill. "Your parents are in this?" she exclaimed in a whisper.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 5, 2006 15:44:33 GMT -5
Jacques ran up the stairs to the third floor. As he reached the landing, he caught sight of a man in a medium-length beige coat, and a fedora covering his eyes. Jacques knew instantly that this was not his brother, who was disguising himself as one of the accordian players of the opera orchestra. The unknown man turned to face him and jerked back. He took out a small sugar bowl, which was not the one back at V.F.D. headquarters in The City. The man threw it at him and ran away. Jacques fell back onto his face as the sugar bowl hit him. He got up, and picked up the sugar bowl. It was heavy. There was something in there! He opened it, and he looked inside…
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Post by Jenny on Nov 5, 2006 15:47:54 GMT -5
(Sad though, isn't it? I do have a life, honest...
OMG Jacques has the sugar bowl!!)
Olaf's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes shining more so than usual. He tried to convince himself that Kit didn't have the darts, but his instinct told him that Esmé had missed them and she was in fact carrying them. He also tried to convince himself that his parents would be able to stay out of tonights events, but this also seemed unlikely.
'Find her again at the interval,' Olaf hissed back in the darkness, among the mutters. He considered finding her himself and sending Esmé after Beatrice, but he didn't want to speak to Kit that night. 'Follow her. Don't let her get away, whether you think she has them or not.'
He sounded sharper and snappier than he meant to, puzzled by the whereabouts of the darts and the apparent innocence of Beatrice and Bertrand, sitting together and looking very calm and peaceful.
Nothing seemed to be making much sense, and a lot of his associates seemed not to be doing anything except sitting and occasionally glancing around to glare at their enemies. And the fact that his parents might be under threat without knowing anything about it didn't make the Count any less stressed.
Jacques has disappeared as well, which he wasn't keen on. Overall, Olaf certainly didn't think he'd be concentrating much on the opera.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 5, 2006 17:00:21 GMT -5
This is a spyglass! thought Jacques as he dropped it into his hands. Why would I be given a spyglass? I mean, there's nothing to look at, unless… Jacques looked back toward the direction he had come. The poison dart assassination! I have to tell Kit and Beatrice! He ran the way he had come and sprinted down the stairs and to the row where his sister was sitting. Suddenly he stopped. What he saw before him would be etched in his mind forever, even to the point of his death many years later.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 5, 2006 19:23:22 GMT -5
Esme looked at her feet sadly. She thought she had been through enough with Kit. "I'll try harder." she promised again. she really didn't want to displease him. Now that there are no friends to fall back on, Olaf was the only one she had. she found it hard to enjoy the opera.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 6, 2006 14:24:54 GMT -5
Olaf had always liked the opera.
It was as dramatic as anything, and besides his parents had always brought him up to like it. But tonight he was distracted-- and he watched Kit and the Baudelaire's like a hawk until the interval with a pair of binoculars he'd stolen from some old lady's handbag, figuring he needed them more than she did right now.
As the lights temporarily came up and a murmur started in the audience, Olaf jumped up and wrenched Esmé up by the arm he'd had hold of for a while, scurrying off to try and get in touch with his parents and practically throwing Esmé down a steep set of steps with an apologetic nod and a hissed reminder of: 'Find Kit!' before he ran off where she couldn't see him.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 6, 2006 15:51:05 GMT -5
Esme cried out in pain when she was yanked up by the arm. He was causing considerable pain in her arm but the relief of his hand's release didn't come until after she had flown down a short flight of stairs. She had ran into a man and she apologized. He heard Olaf's last words before she was lost in a crowd.
She couldn't believe him. How dare he treat her like a child.Unable to find anyone that looked remotely like kit in the mass of people she pushed her way into the lobby. Looking around frantically she was too distracted by her task to cry. If she took time to cry now it would only get worse later. If Olaf acts as bad as he has been right now it could be a rather painful evening for her.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 6, 2006 17:50:38 GMT -5
Jacques stared in shock as he saw Esmé with Count Olaf. Esmé! There was no way he could've thought Esmé had joined Olaf. All this time he had thought Esmé was a volunteer, in hiding. But now he knew the truth. Esmé hadn't been hiding from the villains, she now was one. He felt the brass spyglass clutched in his hand, and felt an engraving in the metal. He saw the words "457 Prospero Place". He did not know where that was. Maybe that was the new location of the sugar bowl with part of his file in it, ready to pass into numerous hands until it reached a certain sub-sub-librarian who was on very good relations with him. Beatrice and Bertrand and Kit can protect our leaders and endeavour to injure the villains' leaders while I look for Dewey. he thought, hoping that this wasn't a trap to draw him away from here, where he was needed most.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 7, 2006 10:58:45 GMT -5
(Hah! 'After the opera', Hanna?)
Olaf saw Jacques Snicket leave, and then ruled him out for having the darts. He ran around frantically for a second, unable to decide what to do, and didn't notice Esmé standing in the lobby looking very little girl-ish, lost and confused and in need of help.
Kit was nowhere to be seen. And the rush of people made it very difficult to see the Baudelaire's.
Olaf knew time was running out.
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fiendishthingie
Catastrophic Captain
And quiet is the thought of you; the file on you complete
Posts: 57
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Post by fiendishthingie on Nov 7, 2006 12:51:19 GMT -5
Kit stayed in the crowd for as long as she could, milling through all the elegantly-dressed people until she fou nd Beatrice.
"The world is quiet here," Kit said quietly, slipping the box into Bea's waiting shawl.
"Not for long," Beatrice said curtly, and squeezed Kit's hand tight before disappearing into the maze of bodies.
Kit turned, forgetting Dewey, forgetting everything except what she had done and what they were about to do, and ran out of the building, as fast as her uncomfortable chalky-grey high heels would let her, stopping only when the cold wind hit her cheeks and throat. She leaned against a well-lit golden pillar advertising the opera in bold red letters and breathed deeply.
She thought that her part in the night's drama was finished.
She hoped.
She was wrong.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 7, 2006 15:22:43 GMT -5
(Oh geeze lets just reference all my fanfics...lol.)
Seeing a glimpse of Kit's hair Esme ran out of the building in an attempt to catch Kit. She was nothing. A taxi was pulling away and Esme suspected that Kit was in it. She turned back inside. Hopefully that meant that the darts were gone too, otherwise she didn't know how she would tell O.
She sulked back into the theater and bumped into Beatrice. "Oh. Sorry." She mumbled before unknowingly walking away from the darts she was trying to find on Kit. She headed back toward her seat but was grabbed by the arm before she could.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 7, 2006 15:28:15 GMT -5
(Yeah, it's annoying isn't it? *closes mouth* I wonder if you meant Olaf. Ah well. That's what the modify button's for, I guess.)
'Find them?' Olaf asked quickly, mouth barely moving and a smile plastered on his face as he walked past his two frightening associates.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 7, 2006 17:35:17 GMT -5
She tried to twist herself out of the grip. "No." she choked out. He was already hurting her but this could become mild discomfort in comparison. "I tried but I think Kit left. Maybe she took the darts too." Esme squeaked out.
She pursed her lips together and closed her eyes afraid of his reaction.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 7, 2006 19:31:39 GMT -5
Jacques sat in the taxi as he watched the Opera House fly by. In his hands he held a sugar bowl. Inside that sugar bowl was a spyglass that had led him to the address “457 Prospero Place.” He had assumed that the sugar bowl in their headquarters in The City would be moved there. Little did he know that he was wrong. Since he didn’t find Dewey anywhere, he had decided to leave for the address engraved on the spyglass. Before he had left, he had slipped Kit a message while embracing her. It would tell her of how he had found out about the extra sugar bowl. And on the rest of the message, he had written down a secret so terrible and haunting that it would shatter all of their lives soon to come, for it concerned the poison dart event tonight. And as the taxi pulled over at the Opportune Odors Horseradish Factory, he had hoped with all his heart that he and his siblings and his friends would be alright. And the other thing he did was hope for the best. But hoping for the best, like hoping for an associate of yours to be alive, can rarely lift your hopes up. But he hoped for the best anyway.
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