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Post by Dante on Jun 27, 2012 10:47:27 GMT -5
When has anybody ever, ever respected an instruction not to go eavesdropping? The cardinal rule of main characters is to always eavesdrop. I'm really looking forward to this, Tiago! As an aside, I thought it remarkable that your description of the setting of this story (at the conclusion of the previous entry) seems to have anticipated a similar mansion at the end of Chapter Two of WCTBATH...
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jun 27, 2012 10:59:10 GMT -5
Eavesdropping is an art V.F.D. itself must train its students in. I look forward to "not" doing so in July.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 14, 2012 20:49:05 GMT -5
Chapter One's coming up. ^^ I apologize for the delay. These last few days of the semester at college were very busy. AQSoUE will resume.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 14, 2012 21:42:36 GMT -5
Chapter One Reunions can happen at the most unexpected of times. You can be crossing the street trying not to drop a tray of coffee, one of which contains a crucial piece of information instead of a caffeinated beverage, only to find yourself on the other side of the street, reunited with someone you had not expected to meet, and promptly drop the tray, losing said caffeinated beverages, as well as that important information. The Quagmire triplets had just gotten out of the most dreadful farm to find themselves near the Crooked Creek, at an apartment building named Cronenberg Colossus Apartments, a towering, strange looking building. They were in the front patio, unable to process the image of one Natalie Finch bug-eyed and pointing at them. ‘You! It’s really you!’ Natalie approached the Quagmires, and they took a step back in an unconscious reaction. Natalie seemed harmless now, but the Quagmires remembered she was a constant companion of Esmé Squalor down in the Great Unknown, a favorite, of sorts. For those of you who endured my previous reports concerning the events of two years ago, it’s easy to remember that Natalie Finch was a villainess-in-training under the tutelage of Esmé Squalor, and that she also had a brother, Nathan, of whom she would never stray too far. Natalie looked a tad more mature now. Taller, and her long, silky platinum blonde hair had grown a few inches. She wore a cream coat trimmed with dark blue fleece and a dark blue dress, and cream-and-navy chess patterned stockings to match her black shoes. Her hair was partially tied at the back, pulled from the top of her heads letting her forehead be visible. She approached the Quagmires even more, smiling. ‘I never thought I’d see you, and here of all places. How did you get here?’ She asked them, seeming pleasantly surprised. The Quagmires replied laconically – a word which here means ‘gave the girl a very short answer’. ‘By hovercraft.’ Quigley Quagmire blurted out. Quigley was the biggest and strongest of the three Quagmires, and not immune to female beauty, but in his opinion no ammount of beauty surpassed that of his one love, Violet Baudelaire. He immediately noticed how beautiful Natalie looked, and that she was still smiling, despite their past record of being in opposing sides of the schism. ‘Well, this is something. The Baudelaires, do you know what happened to them? Do you?’ Natalie asked. She did not seem hostile at all, which was very puzzling. In the Great Unknown, she never spoke, not to those of the Quagmires’ kind at least. She seemed almost casual now, almost truly pleased to see them, as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Isadora Quagmire, the only girl of the triplets, was the one to reply this time. ‘We don’t know where they are. Do you?’ Isadora was very worried about the Baudelaire orphans. They were the Quagmires’ best friends, and had disappeared when they got separated as the Great Unknown collapsed. ‘No I don’t actually.’ Natalie finally stopped smiling, and seemed almost sad. ‘I was hoping you’d know where they are.’ ‘Why, so you can run to Esmé Squalor’s side and whisper to her of their whereabouts?’ Duncan burst. Natalie frowned, the hurt showing on her expression. ‘I have nothing to do with Esmé now. I live here, and Professor Rowan helps me get better. I’ve gotten much better. I don’t want any trouble. I just wanted some news of the world out there. We don’t even get the Punctilio here. The landlord will not allow it.’ Natalie eyed the cobblestones, her hands crossed in front of her lower stomach. ‘You’re not missing out on much.’ Duncan joked. His contempt for the poor sort of journalism that the Daily Punctilio represented was well known to his siblings. ‘Well, still…Have you come to live here, by any chance?’ Natalie asked. ‘No way. We’re just looking for a place to stay for a night, and some foo-‘ Isadora replied, but stopped mid-sentence, almost as if she’d let a vital secret slip out. Quigley and Duncan forgave her, though. ‘Well, you’re welcome to stay here. If the landlord allows it. Well, landlord and landlady. They’re very strict, those two.’ Natalie told them, hiding her mouth with one hand, almost as if someone was spying on them at the moment, which was actually happening. ‘We’d just like to stay for a night and then we’ll be on our way. Can you tell your landlord that?’ Quigley asked. Natalie nodded. ‘Come on inside. Professor Rowan should love to meet you. He likes to be around younger people. Everyone else here is so old!’ Natalie said. ‘I tend to keep him company when he’s not working, I try to help him as much as I can. I owe him a great deal.’ Natalie showed the Quagmires a kind smile, something they had never thought she would be capable of. With a gesture towards the front door, she invited them into the building. The Quagmires hesitated, and Natalie stopped smiling. She went inside the building, leaving the door open behind her. Shortly thereafter the three triplets went inside, as the night had just become much colder. As the Quagmires made their way into the foyer, the door slammed shut behind them. ‘Oh, sorry.’ Natalie said, appearing right behind them. ‘The door tends to do that. Startles all the tennants.’ Natalie smiled. ‘Come, I should take you to Professor Rowan. He’ll very much delighted to see you.’ ‘ Miss Finch.’ The voice was cold and bitter and husky, as if spoken under sandpaper. A tall, gaunt woman materialized in the foyer from an adjacent room, her silvery hair tied up in a somewhat conservative hairdo. All decked in black, from head to toe and unadorned, her appearance spoke for itself. This was not a woman to play games or to lie to. This woman always knew. ‘Who might these three youngsters be? Not trouble-makers, I hope.’ The woman approached Natalie, but her disapproving eyes were set on the Quagmires. ‘Ms. Cronenberg, these are a family of triplets seeking shelter for a night. It is bitter cold outside.’ The woman’s eyes turned to eye Natalie, who shuddered with the sudden eye contact. ‘Do you recall why I sent you outside, Miss Finch?’ Natalie nodded. ‘I sent you to pick up three pieces of lumber for my dear husband’s hearth, and you come back with three triplets. Now isn’t that amusing?’ If anything, the woman was not amused. ‘I can’t exactly warm up my husband by putting these three in his hearth can I?’ ‘N-no, Ms. Cronenberg.’ Natalie said. ‘Well then, get to it. If my dear husband catches so much as a light cold, he will die. You know that as much as anyone.’ The woman then looked at the door and then into Natalie’s eyes. A silent command, and Natalie obeyed. ‘Now. You three. Follow me into the office.’ The Quagmires wasted no time in doing so; Cronenberg Colossus Apartments was their only chance for respite from all the violence and unpleasantness they had witnessed at Firefly Farm, the only safe place for miles and miles. Theoretically, anyway. ‘You say you three are brothers and sister?’ The woman inquired, a word which here means ‘demanded to know’. It was unusual for the Quagmires. Most people saw their resemblance and immediately assumed them to be siblings, but this woman Ms. Cronenberg did not even bother comparing them. ‘Yes, we are…Ms. Cronenberg.’ Quigley thought it polite to address the woman as such. He really didn’t want to spend the night outside shivering and fearing the appearance of the remaining Crowe brothers. ‘Three youngsters such as yourselves travelling alone? What is the world coming to?’ The tone of her voice did not deny it; she was all dismay and disapproval. ‘Have you any means to pay for the food and shelter you seek?’ The Quagmires looked at each other. They had no money. Their most valuable posessions were Jeremiah Hudson’s journal and the Survival guide, as well as their guns, knives and the other supplies down by the Crooked Creek, in the hovercraft. ‘Yes, Ms. Cronenberg.’ Duncan had always been the best liar of the three. Isadora was too good to lie, and Quigley was too bad at it, but Duncan Quagmire had a way with words, a different talent than his sister’s. Duncan was a weaver, and as he weaved his web of deception the other Quagmires stayed silent and listened. The Crooked Creek was a good walk down a long stairway, but somehow the sound of the stream permeated the air. A whisper, and a faint one at that, but once you noticed it, you couldn’t not hear it again. As the Quagmires listened, in the nightly silence of the apartment building, they heard the soft whisper of the water stream, and the howl of the wind outside the walls. It was the sound of Ms. Cronenberg grabbing a heavy, yellowed, timeworn tome – a word which here mens ‘a yellowed, timeworn and heavy book which hasn’t seen use in a long time’ – which hadn’t seen use in a long time, that pulled Quigley and Isadora from their moment of sound-induced stupor. ‘Let me see…’ The woman opened the heavy tome, and flipped it’s yellow pages, full of names. Duncan was particularly skilled at reading words from all sides, and from all directions, and he saw, as the woman flipped pages, the word EVICTED appear several times over. ‘It appears I have a room for you,…’ Ms. Cronenberg’s pale eyes lifted from the yellowed pages to examine the Quagmires. Another silent question. ‘Reed. Our family name is Reed.’ Duncan said. ‘My sister here is Lily, my brother is Elm and I’m Ash.’ ‘Alright. I’ll ask my son Tony to take you to your apartment. You can change out of your wet clothes and later join the rest of the tennants for our late supper. You seem to be in luck this night. Our supper was delayed tonight, so you will get to enjoy that. Those who arrive late to a meal receive nothing but bread and cold milk, so I advise punctuality.’ Ms. Croneberg told them. ‘You can wait outside in the foyer. Tony will be downstairs in a moment.’ The Quagmires rose from their seats. ‘Oh, and Reeds?’ Ms. Cronenberg asked. ‘I’ll want pay in the morning. I was generous with you by not asking in advance, but I am in a sort of generous mood. Now, go out and wait for my son Tony. He’s a fairly large man, you won’t miss him.’ The Quagmires exited the office, and stood in the foyer. They went away from the door, examining their surroundings. The place was not very well lit, but it was late in the evening, and there was a storm brewing outside. ‘What names were those? Do I look like a Lily to any of you?’ Isadora joked, punching Duncan lightly in the shoulder. ‘Do I look like an Elm?’ Quigley made a gesture to Duncan as if he was about to beat him up, and that made Isadora laugh. ‘Shut up. I had to think fast. Our family name is Quagmire, so I thought about plants that live in swamps, big deal. We couldn’t check in here on our real names.’ He whispered to them. ‘Fine, Ash.’ Quigley turned his attention to the décor of the place. It was lavish, that was plain, but also decadent. There was a main hall with an enormous chandelier lacking some of it’s crystals, and paintings all around. The columns of the main hall each was linked to the chandelier by a chain, and a top the flight of stairs at the opposite end of the hall, an enormous stained glass window depicted the towering building against a full moon, with the forest and the Crooked Creek layed around it like a twisted ribbon. ‘Some place we’ve gotten ourselves into.’ Quigley commented, and his brother and sister agreed.
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Post by Dante on Jul 15, 2012 4:12:02 GMT -5
Oh wow, it's good to see this starting. I'll be curious to see how this progresses. Nathalie as a character has become quite interesting, if she acknowledges implicitly that she wasn't in her right mind before; she seems so much more normal now. It'll be interesting to see how the Quagmires can negotiate with someone they must have hated so much (although at least they aren't the Baudelaires). I'm glad you could write, Tiago.
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jul 15, 2012 5:24:42 GMT -5
Natalie is a curious case. The Croneberg story is interesting too, and seeing as the Quagmires won't be able to pay ... but I'm not sure Ms. Croneberg really expects payment. Or not in money, anyway. Well, we'll almost certainly be seeing more of her. I wonder if Tony takes after his parents, or if, like Robin Crowe, he's something of an outcast.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 16, 2012 16:43:11 GMT -5
Chapter Two Sitting in an empty, dimly lit hall during a stormy night is not a very good way to spend one’s time. It is always preferable to curl up in bed with a book and a nice cup of something hot than in a drafty hall of a strange apartment building, but there was where Isadora, Quigley and Duncan Quagmire sat, waiting for Ms. Cronenberg’s son, Tony. They were nervous for various reasons, but the main reason for their nervousness at the moment was being alone in a dark hall in a stormy night. Thankfully enough, it didn’t take Tony much longer to appear. He came, descending the main staircase of the hall, backlit suddenly by a flash of lightning. As he was a very large man, and his features were momentarily obscured, the Quagmires were uneasy. ‘Are you Tony Cronenberg?’ Quigley, the boldest of the three, asked. ‘Yes. You must be the Reeds. Mother told me through our intercom system.’ Tony arrived at the bottom of the staircase and the Quagmires could see him properly. Tony was very tall, and large and wide as a door. His appearance reminded the Quagmires of an armory they had in the Quagmire mansion. An antique, the armory was a sollid wooden obellisk – a word which here means ‘a solid, enormous thing to have in someone’s house unless the house is particularly large’ – and Tony Cronenberg was one obellisk of a man. Just by looking at him the Quagmires could tell he would give the Crowes a run for their money – an expression which here means he ‘would crush them like insects’. ‘Welcome to Cronenberg Colossus Apartments. I trust you will enjoy your stay. If you will follow me, I will show you to your apartment. It is in one of the top floors. This way.’ Tony said politely, which was a bit unexpected. The Quagmires had been on a string of meetings with large, boisterous men as of late. Jeremiah Hudson had been large, and as he was large he was a drunk. The Crowes were all too large, and as they were large they were evil and corrupt. Tony came as a surprise, with his brooding politeness. The Quagmires followed him upstairs. ‘Supper has been delayed tonight, so you are fortunate. Elsewise it would have been bread and milk for you.’ Tony told them. ‘This is the apartment of the two theater spinsters. You should avoid them. All they talk about is their past glories and faded looks. A nuisance, the two of them.’ Tony pointed towards a door that had flashing yellow and red lightbulbs all around it. It did a lot to light the hallway in which they were now in. ‘From here on upwards, the staircases are at opposite ends of the hallways. This here is the apartment of that young woman. Miss Finch.’ Tony pointed to a door covered in a fading purple paint, some of which had peeled off to reveal the wood beneath. ‘What do you think of her? Is she strange?’ Duncan asked Tony. ‘Oh, that girl? A wisp, she is. Strange, but she does lighten up the place. Before she came there were only crones and sour men in this building.’ Ascending the staircase at the end of the hallway, the Quagmires followed Tony up another hallway. ‘This is the appartment of that scientist, Lockhart. Strange man. With late rent too. He’ll be out of here soon, so you need not worry about meeting him.’ The Quagmires noticed several boxes and letters and newspapers piled up outside the scientist’s door. Tony continued, nodding towards another door. ‘This is Professor Rowan’s apartment. A mind doctor he is, and also a professor at an university, though retired. Everyone still calls him Professor, though.’ And the tour continued as they climbed, with Tony making remarks about the tennants on each floor as they went, and answering the Quagmires’ questions politely as they questioned him, until they arrived at one of the top most floors, and Tony stopped. ‘This here is your apartment for the night. It’s got central heating but if you want a hot bath you’ll have to boil water with that kettle over there.’ He pointed towards an antique stove, with a kettle on top of it. ‘Our late supper is in half an hour. Late arrivers will receive nothing but bread and milk, I do have to warn you.’ Tony left the Quagmires inside the apartment and disappeared. Just as they were about to remove their shoes to stretch their aching toes, a knock on the door was heard. ‘Who is it?’ Quigley looked through the magic eye of the door. ‘It’s me. Natalie.’ ‘Come in.’ Quigley let her in. Natalie had changed, this time wearing a modest black dress with long sleeves. ‘Ms. Cronenber asked me to take you to the dining room when you’re ready. We should leave in advance. Those who arrive first always receive the most generous portions.’ ‘I’m sorry for the intrusion.’ Natalie told them. ‘But there was also another matter I must speak to you of. Do you have means to pay for your stay here?’ For all the Quagmires remembered of Natalie from their time in the Great Unknown, they did not recall her being so blunt. ‘No, actually. We were planning to running away just before dawn.’ Quigley told her and Natalie smiled, as if amused. ‘Why do you think you received one of the top most apartments? On your way down, you’ll wake every one of the tennants. And Tony never sleeps. At night, you can hear his footsteps on the hallways. Sometimes, even hers. You’ll never get out of here if you don’t have money. She’ll force you to work for your stay, and the whole situation will become a snowball of debt which you will never be able to repay. The tennants who are wealthy, or who at least have the money to pay rent on the right day, those she likes well. But you don’t want to be one of the tennants who owe her money.’ ‘And you’re telling us this why?’ Isadora asked, her arms crossed, eyeing Natalie with suspicion. Isadora had not forgotten Natalie’s icy disposition as the Unknown Agents visited their cruelties upon their prisoners. ‘I’ve done a lot of wrongs in the past. I came here to get away from that. To forget. To live the rest of my life isolated from my past. Professor Rowan has helped me a lot. He helped me see the evils I did. Just the fact that I’m acknowledging it to you right now is a proof of how much he’s helped me. I was only doing what I was made and raised to do, though I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it at the time. The Professor helped me understand that I didn’t have to be like that. He told me I could still do some good in the world. Before tonight, I didn’t believe I would ever have such an opportunity. But your arrival here tonight is my chance to do some good.’ Natalie then produced two things from under her dress. Apparently, she had tied them around her thighs, as opposed to openly carrying them out in the hallways. One was an envelope, the other, a newspaper clipping. ‘What is this?’ Quigley took the envelope and opened it to reveal quite a hefty sum of money. ‘You’re giving us money?’ Natalie smiled. ‘That money, believe me, is the least precious of the two things I just gave you, as you’ll see. I don’t ask you to trust me as you once trusted the Baudelaires, nor do I ask for forgiveness. I just ask this of you. Take what I gave you and leave this place before it’s too late. The dining room is in the second floor.’ Saying this and nothing else, Natalie Finch opened the door and disappeared from the apartment, leaving the Quagmires reeling with unasked questions. ‘What is that?’ Duncan took the newspaper clipping from Quigley. When he finished reading, his eyes widened at what he saw in the article’s photograph. The Daily Punctilio All the news in fits of prints No Deluge For Deluge Dam: Head Engineer And Team Lauded As HeroesThe mechanics at Deluge Dam had a breakthrough in fixing the damaged dam’s unstable structure. The townsfolk cheered as the mechanics credited the team of the head engineer, Mr. Jetsam and his apprentices. “The leaks have diminished, and we discovered a new way to seal the cracks in the dam, thanks to my own apprentice, who is genius young woman” When asked of his sister’s betrothal to the Mayor, Cid prefered not to comment. “What my sister does is her business, not mine. My business is fixing broken things, but there are somethings not even an expert like me – and my team – can fix.” Isabella Jetsam is promised to the Mayor since a young age, her betrothal being planned as a means to end a century-old feud between the two families that goes back to the foundation of Deluge Dam.‘Deluge Dam?’ Quigley asked. He opened up Jeremiah Hudson’s journal. It contained a map. Upon consultation, Quigley noticed the Crooked Creek streamed into a large lake, but upon closer examination he realized the lake was artifical. Created by the building of a dam to the east. The place was marked with the same dot used to mark small towns, but strangely, the dot was exactly where the Dam would be in the map. ‘Seems like a curious place. But why is that relevant to us?’ Quigley asked his brother. Duncan gave an exhilarated smile, pointing to the photograph in the clipping. Isadora and Quigley took the clipping, examining it themselves. ‘It…It can’t be…’ Isadora said. ‘Is this really her? Is it?’ Quigley’s heart was pounding so fast he had to sit and rub his chest. Strange reaction to a mere newspaper article photograph, but stranger still was the presence in the photograph of someone they knew very well. Because when they looked at the team of Enginners cheering and smiling at the photographer’s camera, they could see one young woman giving a modest smile. She was older than they remembered, her hair, a lot longer. But just like they remembered, with her so familiar hair ribbon tying her hair to help her think, the Quagmires saw the familiar features of Violet Baudelaire.
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jul 16, 2012 19:16:28 GMT -5
A rather startling twist to see a Baudelaire (albeit indirectly) so soon, but I was pleasantly surprised still to see your artwork. I see they both have ribbons in their hair - I supposed at first the one on the right was Violet, but I guess it could equally be the right. Also, the plan to keep the Quagmires from running away was clever, though I daresay they'd have found a way out. I'm not sure about Natalie yet. On one hand it seems she really has changed, but on the other it's as though she's being brainwashed still only by a different force. Which in this case is for the better, of course, but one must question the volatile reproduction of it all.
Edit: That's volatile nature, by the way, not reproduction. Censors.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 16, 2012 20:37:22 GMT -5
Violet, or the alleged Violet is the girl on the right, yes. I'll try to put in artwork into the fics as much as possible.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 16, 2012 23:42:26 GMT -5
Chapter Three That tiny scrap of newspaper had changed everything. Quigley, Isadora and Duncan Quagmire had to seat for a good five minutes, examining the photograph of who could only be Violet Baudelaire. Apparently she had found an occupation away from the city, but there was no sight of her siblings. If Violet was indeed at Deluge Dam working under the head engineer there, where were Klaus and Sunny? ‘We know Beatrice was separated from them, but it would be too cruel for them be separated from each other as well.’ Isadora spoke. Isadora, Duncan and Quigley had also been separated in the past. Having lost their parents, it was very traumatic – a word which here means ‘horrible and painful’ – and they wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all the Baudelaires, their best friends. ‘It’s just like Violet, to be working in a place like this.’ Quigley smiled. He put the newspaper clipping inside Jeremiah Hudson’s journal, along with the photograph of the very Jeremiah Hudson Senior and his dark companions. ‘We have to go to Deluge Dam. It’s a two days’ journey from here, following the Crooked Creek. By hovercraft, we can make it in a day and a half, I guess.’ He said as he examined the map. ‘See this area here? It’s the Ghastly Gorge, where Deluge Dam was built. Jeremiah Hudson Senior could probably tell us a thing or two about that place.’ Quigley flipped through the pages of the journal, searching for information, but Isadora took the journal from him. ‘We can do that later, Quigley. We all want to know where it is, and we all want to go there, but it can wait. We have to go downstairs for the late supper. I’m starving, I don’t want to go to bed on just bread and milk.’ It was true. The Quagmires had barely eaten at Firefly Farm. If they’d eaten more, they’d have retched it all back up again because of what they’d witnessed. ‘You’re right. Let’s go.’ The Quagmires left the apartment and locked it, and began the long climb down to the second floor of the building. ‘They should have installed some elevators here. It’s a grueling climb, and a whole lot of walking. We’ll be on the verge of passing out from exhaustion before we’re done eating.’ Duncan commented. He was right. Sleep was a luxury they could not afford at the Farm, what with the Crowes hanging nearby. They were very tired. On the way down, the Quagmires encountered Natalie again. She was walking with a short fat bald man in a tweed suit and pince-nez glasses which did not suit him very well. ‘Oh, Quagmires. This here is Professor Rowan. Professor, they are…acquaintances of mine. They’re staying here for the night.’ The professor examined each Quagmire with interest. ‘Oh, how refreshing to see such youngsters about. We don’t get many visitors or passers-by here, so a new face is a rare commodity. The only decent company around here are Natalie and Mr. Lockhart.’ ‘Lockhart?’ Isadora asked. They had heard that name before. ‘Yes. A young scientist. Moved here two years ago, as it seems. Keeps to himself. I fear the poor man is afflicted with some sort of social phobia, as he almost never gets out of his apartment.’ Professor Rowan told them. ‘Oh, but look, Professor. There he is!’ Natalie pointed to a tall, willowy man with long, tangled black hair. He was walking and reading at the same time, but unlike anyone would expect, he dodged all the obstacles with ease, never once stumbling into someone in that somewhat crowded hallway. The tennants all seemed to be headed to the dining room, as none wanted to arrive late and receive nothing but bread and milk to eat. Eventually the Quagmires arrived with the professor and his young companion to the dining room. It was lavishly decorated, but just like every other inch of that building, it was somewhat decadent. Some of the tennants were already at the table. Two women who dressed as if they were younger chatted and gossiped in whispered tones in one side, while a young girl sat by herself as far away from the two women as she could. The Quagmires took their seats, and Isadora wound up sitting right next to Mr. Lockhart, who still read his book with concentration. When the last tennant was sitting, Ms. Cronenberg appeared pushing an old man on a wheelchair. His beard was a tangle of white hair, his hair was just as wild, and he was wrapped in warm robes and scarves, his legs covered with a thick blanket. ‘That is Mr. Cronenberg. The old harridan takes care of him, but he is making her wait. Yes, because he’s the true landlord, but too weak to run this place, so she does it in his stead.’ Professor Rowan whispered to Quigley as Ms.Cronenberg pushed Mr. Cronenberg to the head of the table and took a seat next to him. Tony appeared and went to take a seat next to his father, to the left. ‘You see, she says she will rue the day he catches a cold and dies, but that’s what she’s secretly hoping for. The old landlord’s health is fragile at best.’ Quigley did not know what to think of the information the professor had just given him. ‘Good night. My dear husband is pleased to see everyone arrived on time, and so am I.’ Ms. Cronenberg said. ‘Supper will be served shortly. Today we will sup on onion soup, then a course of turnips and mutton, as well as codfish stew. There is water, milk, and wine.’ ‘Mutton, eh? Ms. Cronenberg is generous today. Usually we just eat the turnips.’ One of the improperly-dressed women whispered to the other. ‘Look, we have three new faces tonight.’ One of the women whispered, but a little too loudly.‘Yes. We have three new guests for the evening. Misters Ash and Elm Reed and their sister, Lily Reed.’ Ms. Cronenberg spoke. Whenever her voice was heard, all others would fade. ‘I’m Edina Spink. This here is my darling friend, Patsy Forcible. Nice to meet such three delightful young people!’ One of the women, the fleshy one said to the Quagmires. They smiled politely. ‘Yes. Very nice indeed.’ The other woman, a tall, thin creature, looked at Quigley in a strange way. He turned to Professor Rowan. ‘Don’t mind them. Those two are two hopeless spinsters, former actresses of faded glory. They woo any sort of young handsome man that should stumble his way here.’ The professor said. For all the dismal company, the meal went by quickly. The soup was a tad on the thin side, but the taste was not bad. The turnips were well cooked, the mutton was savory as well. The Quagmires even had a little wine to unwind. After the meal, Ms. Cronenberg rose from her seat. ‘Coffee, tea and brandy will be served in the common area for those who want it. Me and my dear husband shall retire for the evening. Tony, help me with your father.’ ‘Yes, Mother.’ The Quagmires watched as Tony Cronenberg pushed his father on the wheelchair with his mother close behind. The rest of the tennants separated; some went to the common area, others, such as Mr. Lockhart, retired for the evening. As he was living, Mr. Lockhart stopped and turned his head to look at the Quagmires. He looked and looked and had some sort of ocurrence. Then, he turned and disappeared. ‘What was that all about?’ Duncan asked. ‘Mr. Lockhart is a peculiar man. You must forgive his eccentricities.’ Professor Rowan told them. ‘Now, let’s all enjoy some tea in the common area, shall we? I would love to know more about the three of you, Reeds.’ The Quagmires wanted nothing more than to go to bed immediately. They would have to leave very early in the morning to go to the town of Deluge Dam in the Ghastly Gorge. But they thought a nice cup of tea might help them sleep, so they agreed and joined Professor Rowan and Natalie and some of the tennants for tea. ‘This is a lovely region. I moved here from the city to get away from all that darn noise. The only noise here is the faint whisper of the Crooked Creek. And the scenery! Ah, what a joy to open up one’s curtains and see such a landscape.’ The professor kept talking, and the Quagmires replied with politeness but in a very uninterested manner until something actually interesting happened. ‘Busy night, tonight!’ One tennant appeared in the common area, seemingly exhilarated. ‘Another group of people just showed up seeking stay for two nights!’ ‘Another group of people? This is most unusual! Such activity here, and all in one night! Oh, the excitement!’ Professor Rowan was excited, that was plain. The Quagmires, on the other hand, were hit by a sudden wave of dread. They didn’t know why then, but I can assure you: they would soon meet that group of people, to their great dismay. Because nothing good was to ever come of that group’s arrival. Well, almost nothing. ‘Who wants to take a peek?’ The exhilarated tennant asked. The Quagmires shared a side glance and decided to get the measure of those new guests. Whoever they were, the Quagmires wanted to know. They descended the main staircase and sat in the main hall, in a couch concealed partially by a nook which had a conveniently placed set of curtains. It was the perfect hiding spot to spy on the door to the office in which Ms. Cronenberg made the admittances. Before it was too late, the group of six walked out of the office. Three were female, three were male. The females were all very young. One was blonde and wore an eyepatch, the other had very dark hair, and looked asian, the other had waves of brown hair. Of the men, one was much older than the rest, lordly-looking with nearly white hair and fearsome sideburns. The other was young and clean-shaved, with sandy blonde hair and a smug expression on his face, as if he knew some sort of secret joke known only to himself. The other male was very much like the wavy-brown haired girl, but taller and with shorter hair. They made a queer – a word which here means ‘strange and unusual’ - group of people, but it wasn’t only until they thought themselves to be alone – as Ms. Cronenberg had gone into her office again after bidding them good night – that they spoke. ‘Is this the place?’ The blonde girl asked the white-haired man in a brittish accent. ‘Yes, my dear.’ The man consulted a small notebook he produced from his sleeve. ‘Cronenberg Colossus Apartments. Near the Crooked Creek.’ He also had a brittish accent. ‘Is he really here?’ The asian girl asked him in turn. Strangely, her accent was seemingly german. ‘He is.’ The man’s tone gave away the truth of his words. Of whom they were speaking, it was a matter only known to them. But the Quagmires watched uneasily, as the group examined their surroundings. ‘De leaders vould not send us to this podunk building if he vas not here for certain.’ The asian girl spoke again. ‘Dey vouldn’t. My sister is right.’ The blonde young male agreed in his german accent. That explained the asian girl’s accent. ‘Ve’ll begin de search tomorrow. Until den, ve must act vif caution. He does not know any of us, so ve have dat advantage. Vait until my command.’ The asian girl said. The other five nodded. It seemed even stranger for such an ensemble to obbey the order of a girl so young, but she seemed to hold some sort of authority over the rest of them. Even stranger was what happened next. They all stood before the asian girl and spoke in unison. ‘ Nevermore.’ And the group climbed the stairs, leaving the Quagmires below with a thousand questions reeling in their minds.
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Post by Dante on Jul 17, 2012 1:58:43 GMT -5
Ah, two new chapters; what a pleasure. I think that what's interesting about this new series is that it's on one level just about the Quagmires' travels, but they keep on picking up more quests on the way. Interesting to hear what Violet's been about at; one almost gets the impression that she's been up and awake for longer than the Quagmires have. I like your use of artwork here, by the way, Tiago; it helps that you're one of 667's finest artists, of course, but it really does lift the story. I'm looking forward to hearing more about this new and mysterious organisation, who have a somewhat familiar rallying cry (or if not familiar, at least relevant to names and ideas we've encountere before in ASoUE). Incidentally, I had assumed that the two old spinsters were the white-faced women, but that doesn't seem to be true. Oh well.
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Post by Christmas Chief on Jul 17, 2012 5:38:19 GMT -5
Great new chapter. I originally suspected the approaching guests would be some past villian/ess the Quagmires had encountered, but this appears not to be the case. I am interested, however, in their chant; as Dante says, something about it rings familiar.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 17, 2012 16:31:43 GMT -5
Chapter Four Back inside the Quagmire’s apartment, the three triplets were changing into their pijamas, readying for bed. They had discovered the recently arrived group had received the penthouse apartment, which was the largest. ‘It is strange.’ Quigley Quagmire reasoned, ‘That on the same night that we got here, those six people should also arrive. In such a late hour, too. They didn’t even catch the late supper.’ Duncan Quagmire agreed. ‘And also, that routine of theirs in the main hall? What was that all about?’ Isadora was re-reading the Punctilio article with Violet’s photo on it. ‘Remember the six people who crossed Firefly Farm? I have a feeling it’s them.’ It was night when the three Quagmires saw the group of six people tread the dangerous farm, oblivious – or were they? – to the threat of the Crowe brothers. ‘They are looking for someone, that much is plain.’ Quigley said. Quigley sat on his bed and flipped through the journal of Jeremiah Hudson Senior. There wasn’t much on the Ghastly Gorge, but it did mention that Jeremiah had traveled there in the past, on his way to meet a certain Dr. Lugae. ‘ Deluge Dam is a wondrous thing; a town unlike any other. It is however, sadly divided into those two factions; the supporters of the Jetsam Family and the supporters of the Flotsam Family. The Flotsams have long been the upper class of the town, and often elect mayors within their ranks, meeting their greatest opposition in the Jetsams.’ Quigley closed the journal. This time Jeremiah Hudson Senior was not being much help. ‘It says nothing more than this. There’s a few comments about the quality of the beer at the town’s tavern, but doesn’t describe the place, and there are no photographs or drawings either.’ Jeremiah illustrated his journal with photos and drawings whenever he could but for some reason the photos and drawings stopped right at the part where he was at Deluge Dam. It was rather frustrating, as the Quagmires would have liked to know more about the place they were headed next. ‘If Violet really is at Deluge Dam, we must go meet her. And find out where are Klaus and Sunny, and find them too.’ Isadora said. The Quagmires heard steps outside their door. ‘Yes, but we also have to find Cindry, Nemo and Dr. Nebra, and they haven’t turned up anywhere that we know of.’ Duncan said. The steps stopped, and the Quagmires could see a shadow on the wooden floor, as if someone had stopped outside their door. Then, they heard a knock on the door. It was a timid knock, but Quigley promptly opened the door, only to find the man Professor Rowan had identified as Mr. Lockhart trying to stick a note under the door. The door opened inwards, so the man was startled. ‘Oh!’ He rose quickly. He donned a night robe and pijamas underneath, and his fingertips were tinted with green stains on them. ‘Sorry. I did not want to disturb any of you.’ ‘You’re not disturbing. If you want to speak with us, come inside.’ Quigley told the man. ‘Oh…Pardon my intrusion.’ The man went inside the apartment and Quigley closed the door. ‘I was on my way to the roof, you see, I like to observe the stars there. But I couldn’t help but overhear…Did you happen to utter the name of one Dr. Nebra just now?’ ‘Why? Do you know her? Where is she? Where can we find her?’ Duncan jumped from his bed. ‘I did know her. I have no idea where she is, I’m afraid.’ Lockhart sat on an armchair, looking at the note in his hands. ‘I used to work under Doctor Nebra some time ago. As she worked under Dr. Lugae.’ The Quagmires reacted accordingly; each took a small step back. Dr. Nebra was kind to them, but the other scientists at the Great Unknown were not so. They remembered the prisoners who had been taken from the Great Gaol to be used in Dr. Lugae’s experiments and never returned. ‘My name is Seth. Seth Lockhart. I worked as Doctor Nebra’s assistant for a time, until I was promoted and made to work for Doctor Luccia Lugae, Doctor Lugae’s daughter. They performed all kinds of experiments. Mostly involving grimstone.’ ‘And why are you telling us this?’ Quigley asked. ‘Because time is running out for me. This is a spare key to my apartment. I believe you will have an opportunity to use it very soon. Therein you’ll find my secret project, as well as a comprehensive journal detailing my life for the past two years. I was afraid you’d never come.’ ‘You know who we really are?’ Duncan asked. ‘Yes. I have a gifted memory. I can never seem to forget a face, even with age, I can always tell. When I saw you downstairs earlier I wasn’t so sure, as you were sitting apart from each other…But when I was leaving and saw you three together…Yes. I know who you are. And I know Doctor Nebra sent you here.’ ‘She didn’t so much send us here as she just told us to seek out someone who turned out to be dead. We happened here by chance, and by a series of very unfortunate events.’ Isadora told him. ‘This someone wouldn’t happen to be a Jeremiah Hudson, would he?’ The Quagmires were uneasy. ‘Yes. We met his son, who is now also dead. His daughter and adoptive daughter are now missing, his wife and servant, also dead.’ ‘I am sad to hear. I’ve met Jeremiah Senior. Years ago.’ Suddenly Seth Lockhart seemed very sad. ‘When I heard about the submarine sinking down by Bayou Lafayette I knew you’d wakened. Surely you know by now the world is a different place, yes?’ The Quagmires nodded. ‘V.F.D. no longer exists. All the remnant volunteers have gone into hiding. We no longer can act openly, or expose ourselves in any sort of way.’ ‘You talk as if you were a member of V.F.D. You were a member of the Unknown Agents.’ Quigley said. ‘True. But I worked for Dr. Nebra, I must remind you. If you’ve come this far, you clearly trust her more than anyone else right now.’ The Quagmires were not so sure. They only really trusted themselves. Jill Nebra had helped them in many ways, but this mission she had given them was beginning to feel like too much to ask. Specially after their time in a certain farm. ‘Why are you telling us this now? We can’t help you, and you can’t help us.’ Duncan told the man. ‘Exactly. You cannot help me. I’ve been found.’ Seth handed Quigley the key. ‘Use this when the opportunity arises. You will know when the time comes. Otherwise, you’d do best not to cross paths a certain lot.’ ‘Are they looking for you? If they are, wouldn’t have they knocked on your door already?’ Isadora reasoned. ‘I’ve…changed a lot since I took my last picture. I’ve also changed my name, as you did. For now, they’ll only wait, but they will act soon. And when they do, please use this key and head for wherever you’re going. But don’t hesitate, and don’t ever look back.’ Seth headed for the door, but Quigley interrupted him. ‘Seth. Who are these people? What do they want?’ Seth said nothing, and looked at the armchair he’d sat on. He’d left the note there. Opening the door, he disappeared in the dimly lit hallway. ‘What is this anyway?’ Isadora said, examining the note. ‘Give it here.’ Quigley took the note. It was a strange symbol the Quagmires had never seen before, with two letters underneath. It was a symbol few people knew the meaning for, and it’s meaning had no real significance otherwise. But as the Quagmires examined the note, they could tell it was basically the symbol of an anchor, with thirteen spikes. And beneath it, two letters that raised even more questions.
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Post by Tiago James Squalor on Jul 17, 2012 20:52:25 GMT -5
Chapter Five If the Quagmire triplets had been any less physically tired, they would have had trouble sleeping that night. After all the recent developments, it would be understandable if they could not sleep. But it was very late and the Quagmires were very tired. So tired that it didn’t take them long to fall asleep. The next morning arrived, and outside the Cronenberg Colossus Apartments building, the woods were quiet, the Crooked Creek’s whisper went on, and a thick mist had risen, shrouding everything in gloom. Quigley Quagmire was the first to wake, and he got out of bed unaware of the encounter he was fated to have. Tony came to inform them breakfast would be served in half an hour, and Quigley had an idea. ‘Tony? If you’ll excuse me, is there a library in this building?’ Quigley was almost certain there was no library, but alas, he was wrong. ‘Yes. Fourth floor.’ The man said before heading to the stairs. Quigley decided to pay a visit to the library before breakfast. It was very cold out in the hallways that Quigley had to rub his hands together for warmth. The library was even colder, and dark too, despite a large circular window that let in the diffuse light in that cloudy, dark morning. Quigley Quagmire was used to being in libraries, so he knew where to look for. The library was organized in a system familiar to him, and he quickly found the section where the atlas were kept. Atlas is a word which here means ‘books which contain maps and geographical information, sometimes with geological, climatological and cultural information as well’, and Quigley Quagmires was no stranger to them. He picked a heavy atlas titled Southern Geography and picked the nearest seat to the window. He looked at the index, and soon found the article on a “Dam, Deluge”, on page 413. As Quigley flipped through the pages, he realized he wasn’t alone in the library. A chill ran down his spine. The person was breathing down his neck. ‘Aah. Deluge Dam.’ The girl’s voice reached his ears. Quigley felt perfume in the air. Roses? Certainly, a floral fragrance. ‘It’s a strange place, this country.’ The girl’s brittish accent gave away her identity; she was one of the six new guests, the ones that had just arrived at the building. ‘I don’t think we’ve met.’ She sat next to him, and Quigley noticed her heavy, brown, wavy hair, her doll-like facial features and two mysterious vivid green eyes. ‘We haven’t. I’m Q-…E-Elm. Elm Reed.’ Quigley almost said his real name by reflex, but he remembered he was under an alias at the moment. The girl smiled. ‘I’m Rose. Rose Hawthorne. Pleasure to meet you.’ Her brittish accent was fascinating. Specially there, in the South, where people spoke in a very distinct way. ‘So… Elm. I understand you’re new here as well.’ ‘Yes.’ Quigley was uneasy; the girl’s beauty was distracting, and he wasn’t prepared for such at that hour. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet. Her perfume was intense too. Roses. Definetely. ‘I’m over here with my mates. We have a job we need to do around this…how do you call it? Estate? Parish? Oh, I don’t know. What are you looking for in Deluge Dam, if I might ask?’ ‘Nothing, really. We’re travelers, my siblings and I. Going from place to place, meeting people, enjoying the views.’ Quigley gathered himself pretty quickly. He was not about to let the girl’s looks and perfume distract him. ‘Fascinating. Me too. I’m travelling with my brother. He, and a bunch of other people. Friends. I so wanted to travel to this country. Are you going downstairs for breakfast,… Elm?’ Rose smiled. Before Quigley could think he was saying ‘Yes.’ ‘Fantastic. Will you escort a lady downstairs? It’s awfully dark today, and it’s morning. I should hate to tumble down the stairs and break my neck. But if you’re with me, you can catch me.’ Rose took Quigley’s hand before he could turn her down, and next thing he new, he was in arms with her, heading down the hallway. ‘You see, me and my brother, we’ve been travelling for a long time you know?’ Rose told him as they walked. ‘With your… mates.’ Quigley replied. ‘Yes. Our mates. A fine lot, they are. But let’s not talk about them. By the way, my brother’s name is Liam. He’s taller than me, but I’m older. Anyway, we’re from London, you see. You should visit London sometime. Since you and your siblings are travelers, it might not be long before you go to London.’ Quigley’s parents had talked about which place the triplets would have liked to go to for their summer vacations, in the past. Quigley would have liked to go to England. Now it just didn’t seem like he would ever be able to go there. A series of unfortunate events had robbed him of his parents, his friends, his fortune, and his future. But Quigley merely smiled and talked politely to that brittish stranger. They arrived at the common area, where a breakfast buffet awaited them. Duncan and Isadora were already there, and when they saw who Quigley was with, their expressions were of disbelief. ‘What are you doing?’ Duncan’s expression seemed to say. ‘Why are you with her?’ Seemed to be the question on Isadora’s mind. Quigley didn’t need telepathy to know what his brother and sister were thinking. That was one of the perks of being a triplet. They knew each other more than anyone would ever know them. ‘Ash. Lily.’ Quigley said to the dumbfounded Duncan and Isadora. ‘This here is Rose Hawthorne. She’s from London.’ Rose smiled. ‘Lovely to meet you. Since we’re all new here, may I sit with you? I’ll ask my brother. Look, there he is.’ Rose’s brother was at the opposite side of the room, fending off the advances of the two old spinsters. Rose’s call came as a godsend to him, it seemed. ‘Phew. Those two there are quite something. Pleasure to meet you. I am Liam Hawthorne. Don’t mind my sister, she forgets her manners too often.’ Rose laughed and elbowed him jokingly. ‘Liam. You’ll make them think I’m some sort of chav!’ ‘You can’t be, Rose, you’re not as tough as a chav.’ Liam joked. The two laughed, but the Quagmires did not know what on earth was a chav, and were startled by the Hawthornes. The last thing they expected was to have breakfast with not one, but two of he six strangers who had arrived so late the past night, the very group Seth Lockhart had warned them about. It was just the beginning of an eventful day at Cronenberg Colossus Apartments. A day that, I’m sad to report, would end with a terrible crime.
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Post by Dante on Jul 18, 2012 2:37:38 GMT -5
An exciting pair of chapters here. I think I can guess what to expect from poor Seth Lockhart, who seems more sinned against than sinning, really. The new symbol and new organisation are very curious; I haven't a clue what to make of them. I was expecting something a little more raven-like, from their mantra, but now... very mysterious. I'm also a little surprised to see real geography introduced, but we'll see how that goes.
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