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Post by Jenny on Nov 8, 2006 15:19:38 GMT -5
(I've been ill all this week and can't think properly. My post now and for tonight might be completely wrong-- like not in the slightest bit evidence-based or fitting-- or just really pointless, so if they are, or if I start being a pain, just tell me. Ok? Yeah.)
'What's that stupid expression for, Esmé?' He didn't often use her first name-- by habit more than anything-- and this told her that something was definitely wrong. He didn't loosen his grip on her thin wrist, intending to make sure she was doing exactly as he wanted her to. 'And why on Earth would Kit have left? Sometimes you really are quite idiotic. Even if she had, you should be following Beatrice and Bertrand by now. Don't you think I have enough to do without having to worry about you every second of tonight?'
She didn't answer, and he could only assume this was through guilt.
He sighed exasperatedly, dragging her along by her arm again, not caring for now how much discomfort she was in or how close she was to wanting never to see him again.
He looked back and saw Kit re-enter the building. She caught sight of him, and in the confusion he decided that Esmé had been lying about Kit's leaving as a final act of loyalty towards her friends.
Oh well. She'd pay for it later.
'We'll find the Baudelaire's together, then. As you're so incapable of doing anything on your own.'
It took Olaf years to realize what a mistake this statement was.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 8, 2006 17:32:07 GMT -5
Esme make up ran down her face in tiny droplets of water. The salty tears dripped off her chin and landed here and there on the white silk dress. "No...I saw her leave!" Esme exclaimed as she saw Kit. "I swear I swear I was trying my hardest." Esme realized people were starting to stare. As she was dragged along like a petulant child she was crying in pain.
Olaf's look told her she was making a scene and she tried her best to stop. She caught a glimpse of a cream colored dress and she tried to tell Olaf but he was too mad at her to listen.
The fan hanging from her wrist swung wildly and she struggled to hang onto her clutch purse. "Olaf, darling , please." she begged him to let go of her.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 8, 2006 17:35:30 GMT -5
Jacques paid the driver and stepped into the factory. It was empty, except for a few maintenance man working on the machinery. Jacques ran into the middle of the room, and said to one of the workers, "I didn't realize this was a sad occasion." "The world is quiet here," the head worker replied. "J.? Is that really you? We thought you were dead!" Jacques sighed. "That accident with the spatulas and the canoe? That was caused by a skinny person named F., who, as I'm sure you know, is on O.'s side of the schism." Jacques was told by the leader of the maintenance man to follow him. As he walked after the leader person, he smelled horseradish all around. It was permeating everywhere from the ceilings to the workers' shoes. "Jacques, we have received the sugar bowl about an hour ago." the leader said. "But some unfathomable villain or volunteer took it from us. We didn’t know what to do, or who to tell, but we knew that you were at the Opera House. We then produced a spyglass and had someone engrave this address on it, and placed it in one of our extra sugar bowls. We then sent a volunteer who looked very similar to your brother to give it to you by throwing it at you. We apologize if you were injured in any way…" "Oh no," answered Jacques calmly. "No, I wasn't hurt. I was supposed to stay there. At the Opera House where my friends and siblings are. Where Count Olaf is." He sighed. "Well, Jacques, I think we can help you with that. Give me the sugar bowl and the spyglass." Jacques did so. "We have been watching the Opera House since you and your siblings arrived. We've been trying to set a trap for Olaf's parents so they wouldn't be a threat to our organization anymore. It was complicated, and it took weeks and weeks of planning. Several volunteers went over to O.'s side to gather information for us." And after a few minutes' discussion, Jacques hailed a taxi, and was going back to the Opera House where certain events were unfolding as he sat in the backseat, praying nothing had happened while he was gone.
But back inside the factory, the leader pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "F., it's me, G. Yes, I have made sure of Snicket's appearance. Yes. I will have someone there keep an eye on him."
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Post by Jenny on Nov 9, 2006 13:15:42 GMT -5
He let her go eventually, not letting himself listen to any of her pathetic pleas, spinning her against a wall, furious at her for attracting such attention to him especially at this particularly inopportune moment (and he hadn't liked the fact that he looked like a father punishing his teenage daughter, either).
His eyes were like she'd never seen them, with a fire inside them that she knew it was wise to be afraid of. His anger against not just her, but against the whole organisation and every battle he'd lost and won without any proper victory.
The rage in his face made him look like.....
.....Some common criminal. Just some other murderer.
She refused to believe it.
'What the Hell do you think you're doing? Do you want me to get caught, Esmé?'
When she started to answer, he interrupted her.
'If my parents die tonight,' he hissed, not making eye contact. 'Let's just say you'll wish it could have been you. Now go back to your seat. It's not as if you've been much use to anyone so far tonight. I'll find the Baudelaire's on my own, if I can't trust you not to betray me.'
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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 9, 2006 14:47:29 GMT -5
Kit sat in one of the toppermost boxes, breathing slowly while Lemony paced around.
"I'm finished," he said croakily. "Kit - I'm finished. I - I -"
"Shhh," she said distractedly. "You'll be okay. Somehow."
"But he - Olaf," he said painfully, choking out the words like they hurt his mouth, and then, turning on his heel, looked at Kit fiercely. "And you, getting involved with him. Passing over our information in secret. How could you not realise he's entirely the wrong sort, selfish, manipulative, a conniving, backstabbing, treasonous -"
She leapt up from her seat and pinned Lemony with all her force against the opera box wall. She was lean, but athletic and strong, and Lemony's bookish figure wasn't close to a match for hers. For a moment, she stood there, hissing into his face, before saying:
"Don't say another word. Not another word, or you'll be sorry."
Lemony was overpowered by his elder sister, but he was no less stubborn.
"Being sorry means you know you were wrong," he gasped, her hands against his throat. "And I'm not wrong. He may just have lost me the only woman I've ever loved -"
"And what do you think he was to me? Or are you too selfish and manipulative," she mocked him, "to even consider that?"
Despite the tone of her voice, she loosened her grip and let him slide a little way down the wall, before letting go entirely. He coughed politely and straightened his tie.
"What matters now is clearing my - clearing up this whole mess. Before the Daily Punctilio hears about it. Before R herself starts believing it."
"I know," she said wearily.
"I am not an arsonist," he said firmly, and then beneath them, the house lights disappeared, the curtains parted like an organisation doomed to failure, and the show began.
[apologies for this whole bit]
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 9, 2006 17:31:08 GMT -5
(No apologizes needed it was good.)
Esme walked silently back to her seat. She stared straight ahead for what seemed a life time. She half considered leaving the theater, but her mind quickly told her why that was a bad idea. He would find her. No matter how far she went. No matter how well she hid. He would find her.
It would the only thing that would sober her from her thoughts would be Olaf sitting back down beside her. As she felt his weight she stole a sideways glance momentarily but continued looking straight down to the curtain.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 9, 2006 18:35:30 GMT -5
Jacques ran into the Opera House, his mind racing for something to do, something he could do to help his siblings and the volunteers tonight. Where are Kit and Lemony? thought Jacques as he passed several rows on his way to the stairs. Glancing behind him he saw Count Olaf with Esmé sitting in their seats. Or were they standing? It was quite hard to tell in all this crowd of people. He hurried up the stairs and reached the landing. He ran down the hallway right past the Opera Box his siblings were in, never noticing they were there. He continued down another flight of stairs and ventured into a large kitchen. He checked the food for poison, and found none. He checked the shelves for horseradish or wasabi, but did not find either, due to his disappointment. He was about to go back upstairs when he scrutinized on the edge of his peripheral vision a person coming his way. He couldn’t escape now. He’d have to find some other way to get out of this.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 10, 2006 14:59:59 GMT -5
Olaf, for a few short seconds sat absolutely still, all except for his eyes which darted around, closely observing every one he recognized.
The lights went down, and Olaf leant back his head, purposefully not looking at the girl beside him. He couldn't have lost this time, could he?
He saw the Baudelaire's take a seat, and let out a long deep sigh, pretending to watch his parents perform.
Not only if they died tonight would Esmé pay for it-- but he knew he would pay for it too, if not outwardly.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 10, 2006 15:22:08 GMT -5
(I'm afraid for Esme. You know in After the Opera she only gets slapped. But there's implied sex after wards. Lol.)
Esme watched the performance while biting her lip. She didn't laugh at any of the jokes that were being acted out nor did she cry at the sad parts. They came to a scene where on of the actors is shot because a gun falls to the floor. This person was Olaf's father. He acted as if it was shot, a fake blood patch burst inside his shirt. Then the most curious thing happened. He grabbed his neck. They were too far away for Esme to see what was in it but she knew what it was. A poison dart.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 10, 2006 15:33:50 GMT -5
(I know, but I like mean-Olaf.)
Olaf closed his eyes, fists clenching, thinking of nothing else to do. He didn't particularly want to watch his father's death, he didn't particularly want to look at Esmé, and he didn't really want to watch the same thing happen to his mother.
Olaf made to stand, made to stop it, but his legs didn't respond. He had a pain somewhere in his chest, and for a moment worried about the possibility of a heart attack-- but then realized that this was just pure terror filling every inch of him.
This must be what it feels like to know everyone else is burning, he thought.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Nov 10, 2006 16:53:27 GMT -5
Esme watched in horror. she was too stunned to move to stunned to act. she just watched as everyone else in the opera house slowly understand what's going on. Esme could only think of what was coming to her and she prayed that Olaf's mother would leave the stage.
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laret
Reptile Researcher
why is there a log in the middle of the graveyard in this picture?...
Posts: 39
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Post by laret on Nov 10, 2006 17:15:18 GMT -5
(does someone wanna take my place as lemony in this, ive had my computer out for repairs for a week and lost place in this thread)
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 10, 2006 18:22:28 GMT -5
Jacques looked on in suspicion as he saw the man rush towards him. “Jacques! Jacques! Olaf’s father is on the stage now!” “Yes?” asked Jacques. “Yes.” replied the man. “I have been waiting to speak to you, Jacques Snicket.” he said now in a menacing tone. “I am F.; G. contacted me after you left the factory. He told me to keep an eye on you, and I have. It was our plan all along to have Count Olaf’s parents murdered.” he finished with a cruel smile twisted about his face. Jacques could only stare. “But wait,” he began, “you are on Olaf’s side! You hatched a plan to murder your own leaders?!” “Yes, Snicket. And now you and your volunteers are trapped. We told the waiter to give the package to you. We knew you'd hand it to your precious friends and siblings. We knew that you’d analyzed every angle of the situation and come to the conclusion that it was meant for Olaf and not you, and that Gregor Anwhistle had betrayed you. It was easy to fool you volunteers into coming here. Here, where Olaf’s parents will be murdered by us and someone of our choosing will rise as new leader.” Jacques was so shocked and dumbstruck that all he could do was slowly back away to the kitchen door.
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Post by Jenny on Nov 10, 2006 18:36:10 GMT -5
Olaf's mother didn't leave the stage and fell as easily as her husband. Even when several members of the audience tried to help them, Olaf didn't open his eyes.
He knew after a few seconds that Esmé was looking at him strangely, obvioualy in fear.
He wasn't angry with her any more. But who else was their so conveniently for him to take his frustration on? And he could feel his senses comng back, and the guilt filling him.
Could he have done something to help them? Something more?
V.F.D would pay. Someday.
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Post by Jacques Snicket on Nov 10, 2006 19:46:05 GMT -5
Jacques ran quickly out of the kitchen, back up six flights of stairs, and into the hallway to search for his siblings’ Opera Box. He found it. “Kit! Lemony!” said Jacques urgently. “It was a trap! This whole thing was a trap! Several villains on Olaf’s side have been plotting to kill Olaf’s parents! I was betrayed, too. I went to that factory and I met someone named G. He told me he had a plan. Now I know it was futile to believe him. The man with a beard but no hair and the woman with hair but no beard are soon to take his parents’ positions as leaders!” he finished with such a terrified tone that Lemony and Kit thought he had looked older and wearier in that single fleeting moment. “We have to get ourselves out of this.” stated Kit firmly and reassuring. “We have to, unless there won’t be anything left of our organization to help us get out of any mess.” Jacques and Lemony agreed. “Where are Beatrice and Bertrand?” Jacques asked Lemony. “They’re in their seats. Wait—!” Lemony stared in shock at the scene before him. Count Olaf’s parents had collapsed on the stage with poison darts sticking out of their necks. “Hurry!” said Jacques. “We have to get to Beatrice and Bertrand!” With that they ran out of the room.
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