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Post by Jenny on Jun 28, 2007 14:14:33 GMT -5
'If I was,' she paused at his expression.'Which I'm not, then you'd regret saying that. Careful is careful, responsible. That's not boring, not necessarily.'
'Oh, quiet. You know responsible is boring as well as I do.'
She stretched her arms above her head, just sitting down in time for there to be a knock at the door.
It was a hesitant knock, and by the pauses in between raps Esmé could tell this was no ordinary visitor.
Olaf was on his feet, peering out of high windows and between curtains suspiciously. She laughed.
'I find it hard to believe you're this careful every time your doorbell rings,' she said. 'Especially since careful is so boring to you.'
He glared at her mildly. 'You go open it.'
She was outrgaed. 'What if it's a murderer? You're sending your teenage...housemate to the door instead of you.'
'Yes. Precisely. If it's a murderous VFDer they'll never kill you, not ever.'
She shrugged. 'OK. Whatever. As long as you can live with yourself when I die.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jun 28, 2007 19:36:34 GMT -5
Esme opened the door. The person paused and looked at her before ismply walking past her. she made to move but was bumped gently out of the way by a woman with large frizzy hair.
"Hi Ollie, Baby!" she greeted shedding her coat onto Esme's head, as if she was a coat stand.
"Where's-"
"He's parking the car." she answered before a name was spoken, so Esme had no clue what was going on. Soon another coast was handed to Esme as a man with a thick beard and slowly balding head came in. Esme threw the coat on the floor.
"I'm not a housekeeper!" she exclaimed. they both looked at her.
"Of course not. You're a play toy." the woman laughed.
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Post by Jenny on Jun 29, 2007 12:03:50 GMT -5
Esmé choked on her own breath at the implication, glaring at Olaf harshly for not informing her of the two people's visit earlier, or for simply knowing some with such personalities in the first place.
'She's adorable,' she heard the woman say to Olaf among other tidbits of conversation. Meekly, and surprising herself, Esmé hung up their coats properly, and smoothed down her hair. If she was going to have to associate with them, she was going to make a good impression.
'High spirited, though,' the man said, his voice rumbling and deep. 'A firecracker, for sure. It surprises me, Olaf, that you were prepared to take on such a challenge for one of our newest recruits.'
She hated this. It was a sheer reminder of being talked over at parties by those older than her, a reminder of all the in jokes and references she never understood. Esmé sat down neatly, scowling a little too outwardly. Olaf would pick her up on it, later.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jun 30, 2007 13:37:25 GMT -5
Up close she observed both of them. He looked ridiculous with the baldding head ontop of that beard and she looked at her, and found that there was a hint of underlying hair on the womans face, as if she had had it waxed off. Ironic. she thought, both of them had beards. She had a secret smile.
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Post by Jenny on Jun 30, 2007 14:23:19 GMT -5
'I'll open some wine!' Olaf used every possible excuse to open some wine, scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a bottle. The couple observed Esmé when he was out of the room.
'You are a pretty little thing.' the woman commented. 'Not clever, it doesn't seem, but I can see why Olaf thought you were a better choice than that clever girl you room with.'
Esmé didn't want to know which clever girl they were referring to. She just wanted to leave, maybe sit upstairs until they left. She didn't like the pair of them at all.
'I'm not stupid,' she muttered darkly.
'I bet you aren't,' the man said, and laughed as if it was a joke.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 1, 2007 11:07:52 GMT -5
Olaf had come in. "Esme is just as clever as any one could want." he defended. "She dosen't have the book smarts that others have but she thinks outside the box. And she can work a sewing machine." He added.
Esme smiled, at least he did care.
The woman pulled her over and put her arm around her, she was much too close for comfort but the woman brought her hands to Esme's face and took a good look into her eyes.
"I see it." she said.
"See what?" Esme asked.
"The fire. Green eyes... " she looked a bit dazed.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 1, 2007 12:06:13 GMT -5
Esmé wasn't sure what to think, what to do. She spared a glance at Olaf in what might have been confusion, and then looked baack, shaking free of the older woman's grasp.
'She knows all about treachery.' the woman laughed, sitting back and observing the teenager in what was nearly admiration.
'She will be a valuable asset.' the woman decided in the end, storking her chin where her beard could have been.
Olaf was still standing there in the middle of nowhere with glasses and a bottle of wine. Eventaully he set them down on the old table and handed one to everyone.
'Is she old enough?' the bearded man asked.
'Yes.' said Esmé snappily before Olaf could. He half hoped she wouldn't stay like this. These two weren't the most tolerant people ever, after all.
'Only just, then, if she's still so quick to point that out.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 1, 2007 14:55:18 GMT -5
(How old do you have to be over there? It's 19 here.)
Esme sipped at her wine like she always did. It wasn't her favorite drink but Olaf drank it like water. There was an old wine cellar in the basement of his house that was cobwebby and emptied, it had a section where he kept his new wine but that came and went all the time, never touching the shelves just out of the box and into a glass.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 1, 2007 15:30:56 GMT -5
(Sorry. Kinda forgot what I was doing there for a minute...) Wine was the only thing ever to calm Olaf's nerves in front of superiors.
'So,' he said after a moment, watching Esmé stare blankly down into her wine like a crystal ball. 'Is there any particular reason for your visit?' he asked.
The couple stared up at him, eyes almost scary in their intensity.
'Yes. We want to talk about the Snicket's.'
Esmé's head shot up, eyes darting. All in one moment, Olaf realized he didn't trust them to talk in front of her. She would be as loyal to her friends as to them-- as to him, even-- and he couldn't have all the planning ruined.
'Esmé,' he addressed hesitantly. 'Would you go and fetch those plans from upstairs for me?'
'Which ones?'
'The ones in my drawer, in the study.'
She nodded with a small smile, standing and shuffling up the stairs, running a hand along the banister.
There were no plans in his study.
The couple across from him grinned sharply. 'She isn't as trustworthy, then, as you'd like her to be.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 1, 2007 22:22:18 GMT -5
"They never are. She needs to be trained." Olaf said quietly.
"Not trained. Just put into the right situation."She said.
"What do you mean?" Olaf asked.
"She has to love you. Love you completely and trust you completely then you can trust she will never betray you, because she has her heart in you."
"Whatever, just get on with it." Olaf rushed.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 2, 2007 12:41:31 GMT -5
It was fairly obvious when she came trotting down the stairs and the three of them fell silent why she had been sent to find something that wasn't there at all.
On the penultimate step, she turned on her heels, muttering excuses and rushing back upstairs to her new room.
Conversation hastily resumed without her, she could hear murmurs of it through the old and unsafe floor in this old place. Something scuttled across the floor and she hurled a book at it, a loud crash resounding through the building. Olaf's voice wasn't in the conversation for the next minute or two, but nobody came to investiagate.
'Esmé's connection with the Snicket's could be very useful,' the bearded man commented, stroking his beard strangely.
Olaf froze. This was exactly the sort of situation he didn't want to have gotten into. He wanted her never to see Kit or Beatrice again, defect entirely. He didn't want them and her old life dangled in front of her like the most tempting bait in the world. She would eventaully realize which life was the better, and then, effectively, she would be the next one to eliminate.
When he'd asked her to join him, she had no idea that was a lifetime contract.
'She could get information out of the girl, her friend,'
'She might already know relevant information about them from her. She might have a house key.'
The woman laughed happily. Olaf contemplated, briefly, how disturbing it was to be this excited about destroying a family, before he quickly realized it was just the Snicket's he had this problem with.
Lemony was an annoyance, yes. But Jacques had always been a good boy, no matter how Olaf hated the Snicket family before him. And Kit, well. There was more to Kit than met the eye.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 4, 2007 17:01:07 GMT -5
Esme was laying on the floor on her sotmach looking through knot in a floor board. She could see and hear the conversation. She would never be a slow little girl that would miss out on things. She was vowing to herself to make sure to help herself before these people.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 5, 2007 14:55:53 GMT -5
'She won't do that,' Olaf said hesitantly. He knew it as well as Esmé did, from the upstairs floorboards.
'You'll make her.' the man said instantly, harshly. Esmé didn't laugh, but she could have. Make her? Olaf could but try. She wouldn't do anything like that. These two odd figures didn't know her yet.
Olaf dropped the argument, giving in. He would never be sucessful, not faced with the opponents sitting on his worn out old sofa. Esmé would make her own decidion about it later.
Upstairs, she was contemplating. She owed nothing to Kit (if you didn't count the countless times Kit had ended up doing her homewwork for her, the countless times Kit had been the one still awake when Esmé arrived three hours late from a party, and always with a warm mug of milk), and relatively little to Beatrice. And especially nothing to Lemony-- that sod. Jacques was...another story. She didn't hate the Snickets (well, Lemony was the exception, as always in everything) and didn't want to be actively involved in their demise.
But when you thought of it that way, she owed relatively little to Olaf. What had he really done for her? Gotten her expelled. Been another way to break the rules. Taught her to act. Really, that was all.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on Jul 5, 2007 16:41:29 GMT -5
Esme had her own weapons against Olaf. By the time his guest left he trudged up stairs to Esme laying out on the bed in a pink night gown. She was propped against pillows flipping through a magazine. Her bare legs were appetizingly laid out in front of her.
Esme didn't even have to look up from the pages of her magazine to see the look on his face. He couldn't possibly ask her to do anything she didn't want to while she looked like this. He would have to wait, and she would have time to think about it.
Olaf leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed. "don't you just look good enough to eat." He mused.
She looked up and then down again. Forcing him to come over. He touched her leg. "don't let them get to you. They're only a little harsh. They like you.... Not as much as I like you." He chuckled picking up her free arm and kissing it.
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Post by Jenny on Jul 6, 2007 13:37:07 GMT -5
She let him carry on like that boredly. She knew this game infuriated him. She turned a page of her fashion magazine with the hand he wasn't holding. She was like some sort of queen sitting there with her servant tending to her hand.
'What are you reading?'
'A magazine.' Her answer was too quick, too snide for him to be satisfied. He let go of her fingers. He had been running straight lines up each, but stopped abruptly.
'I'll never let them--'
'You were too much of a coward to argue with them about anything. They'll do what they want.'
'Not with you--'
'With me, with you, with everything. You never told me we were going to be working under the unquestionable control of two psychopaths.'
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