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Post by HAL 10,000 on Jul 27, 2022 8:55:43 GMT -5
I like where this story is going and you do a good job of delving into Violet's mind without getting too deep into a "woe-is-me" mindset. The last line of the last chapter was especially impactful because it gives a sense of suspense and is a concise yet poetic way is hinting at what could be to come.
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Post by the panopticountolaf on Jul 28, 2022 7:03:25 GMT -5
Something that I really appreciate in this story is the ways in which you portray Olaf’s abuse of Violet. I think a lot of less talented writers would have just said “oh he physically abuses her all the time”, and while you certainly don’t avoid all implications of physical abuse (good god that moment in chapter three when esme tells violet to take her dress off is CHILLING) mental and emotional abuse seems to be far more prevalent in Violet’s life. It’s a lot more nuanced than most fanfiction portrayals of abuse and I wanted to say thank you for it.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Jul 28, 2022 16:23:30 GMT -5
Thanks for the feedback. It's been really helpful on a very difficult day!
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Aug 23, 2022 4:51:47 GMT -5
Chapter Five
The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery Shop was the sort of place where the floors always felt dirty, but Violet was used to that. Her life was in state of constant and consistent dirtiness, moving from one grimy place to the next with no relent from the grime and filth in sight.
When Violet entered she saw there were only a few people scattered around the room, some sat minding their own business, eyes fixed into a newspaper or book in front of them. There were a few pairs of people sat around small square tables, mugs and bites to eat sat idly on the plate. There was a lazy chatter echoing around the room, gentle enough but loud enough.
Violet closed the door behind her and drew in a nervous, shaking breath, the latest of many she had taken ever since she had read the note. She looked toward the window at the third table in, and there he was, just as the note had said. The man she had been waiting to meet.
He had not looked up when she had entered, his eyes were firmly focusing at a book, sat open on the table in front of him. It was hard to tell from here, but she could see a pair of glasses and long dark hair framing his face. Whoever he was, Violet was not sure if she could trust him.
When she had read what was in the note, she had considered whether or not it was true, whether or not to trust what it had said. Perhaps this was just one of Olaf's cruel games? But no, thirteen years of mistakes had taught her to trust her instincts, and this just felt different. Olaf was different as well. Ever since he had gotten back from his 'business trip' he had been sulking in his room, like a child who had been sent to bed early without any dinner. Something was going on, and if this was Violets chance to find out what, then she had to take it. After all, she had nothing to loose. Whoever this 'associate' was, and however they would be able to 'help' Violet, she could not resist the temptation. She had to learn the truth.
She walked right past the stranger, her eyes staring forward, and went straight to the counter at the far end of the room. Violet had spent the last few days imagining how this scenario was going to play out, and she had intended the move to be bold and graceful, but in reality it was anything but. Her legs were shaking with nerves, and due to her dress being far too long, she almost fell over as she reached a stop.
Violet smiled at the woman behind the counter, ordered the cheapest thing she could see, and waited impatiently. She could feel the mans eyes burning into the back of her head but she stood resolute, facing forward, Thinking.
Violet took some tea, the cup warming her hands, and sat down opposite her stranger. He looked up from his book, placed a leather mark between its pages, and smiled at her. It was a nice smile, and he was younger that she had been expecting, almost her own age.
'Would you like some sugar with your tea?' said the stranger, indicating to the sugar bowl on his left.
'No thank you.' said Violet. 'Are you LS?'
'No, unfortunately our mutual friend was waylaid, so I am here instead.' He smiled that nice smile again.
'Well then who are you?'
'I am an associate, and for today I think that will be enough. I think the much more important question is... who are you, Mrs. Olaf?'
The name was like a shard of ice ripping through her heart, but she had been expecting that. She felt her chest clench tightly as she steadied herself. 'I'm Violet Baudelaire, just like I always have been.'
'Perhaps.' said the man. 'But these are troubled times that we live in, and we need to be sure. My question to you, Violet, is why did you come here?'
'I don't understand.' The question surprised Violet. Surely he knew why she was here? 'I didn't ask for this... meeting, whatever this is.'
The man frowned, a crease appearing on his brow as he did so. 'I had been informed that you were interested in volunteering with our organisation. Is that not the case?'
'Volunteering?? I would have thought that Jerome would have -'
'Jerome? As in Jerome Squalor.' The man let out a small noise of distaste. 'Is that who you think 'JS' is?'
'Well who is JS if isn't Jerome?'
He smiled at her again. 'There are many people with those initals, and it has lead to much confusion over the years. Perhaps it does not matter, in the end, how we have come to be here. What matters is that we are both here, and we may be able to give each other the assistance which we both seek.'
'Assistance?' queried Violet. 'I don't understand. How could I assist you?'
'My organisation' said the man. 'Is a failing one. Some may even say it has failed. We seek Volunteers wherever we can find them, to put out fires of all kinds. Perhaps you will be able to help us in the future.'
Violet was unsure. She hadn't been good for much of anything in the last thirteen years, and she was unsure what kind of help she could offer somebody like him. 'Who even are you?', she asked him.
'We're the good guys.' said the man. 'Or at least we try to be.'
'Do you have a name?'
'Our organisation does, yes. Those three initials we mentioned in your note.'
'V -'
'No, best not say them out loud.' interrupted the man. 'That name can cause a lot of bad feeling among some people, especially in this city.'
'And what about you?' Violet asked. 'What's you name?'
The man thought for a moment, caution holding back his words. He looked at Violet, a deep long look, one that made her feel almost uncomfortable, until eventually he spoke once again.
'My name is Quigley. Quigley Quagmire.'
Violet gave a small nod, as if in approval. She reached out her hand delicately, and offered it to him.
'A pleasure to meet you Quigley', and she smiled at him as he shook her hand.
'The pleasure is all mine.'
'So Quigley, tell me. I am willing to help you in any way that I can, but how are you willing to help me?'
'Well.' said Quigley, smiling again. 'First we will need to rescue you.'
Violet tensed, hers hands stiffening on the edge of the table. 'Rescue me? What do you mean?'
'If you were to leave this place with me today, to walk away with us right now and never return, then Olaf would come after you. What you need to do is disappear, from right under his very nose. He will know that it was us, of course, but he will not be sure of how we have done it. Secrecy is the key.'
Quigley rummaged around in a bag nestled below the table, one that Violet had not noticed before. A moment letter, his hand found hers, still hidden beneath the table, and he pressed something into her grasp. It was a small glass bottle, a cork stoppered in the top. It was barely larger than Violets palm, and was full of a clear, translucent liquid.
'Tomorrow night, you are to slip this liquid into Olaf's food, before nine in the evening, if you can manage that.'
'What is it? Is it poison?'
'No' said Quigley. 'But it will do the trick. After dinner you should pack your things, and be waiting for us in the tower'
'The tower?'
Quigley nodded. 'Olaf has a tower atop his house, I believe? We will meet you there by midnight.'
Violet let out a small laugh. 'This is ridiculous. I don't even know who you are, and you expect me to trust any of this? This is just nonsense. If you think i'm just going to run away with some stranger - It's ridiculous.'
'Is it?' asked Quigley. 'You've been married to Olaf for a long time now Violet, so I can't imagine that it can be easy for you to trust me.'
'No.' Violet sighed. 'Nothing about my life has ever been easy.'
'All I can give you is my word that if you trust me, and do as I say, then things will get better for you. Your parents would have wanted you to do this, I know they would have.'
'My parents?' said Violet, tears forming in her eyes. 'My parents are dead, just like everybody else I've ever cared about.'
'They wouldn't have wanted this life for you.'
'I don't want this life for me, but it's the only one I've got.' Violet shrugged. 'Things could be worse.'
'I don't think so Violet.'
'Olaf's told me about the terrible things that have happened to the rest of the world these last few years. Maybe I'm one of the lucky ones.'
Quigley sighed. 'Violet, I know that the world can sometimes be a terrible place, but there are still some safe places left, I promise you. All you need to do trust me. Before they died, your parents were a part of this organisation as well. They would have wanted you to follow in their footsteps, just like my parents did with me.'
Quigley rose from the table, picking up the bag with him. 'I'm going to have to go, there is lots to be done over the next few days.' He placed a hand on Violets shoulder, and she was unsure how to feel about it. It was the first time another man besides Olaf had touched her since her brother had died. She felt uncomfortable, and brushed his hand aside.
'There is still time for you to claim some of your life back.' Quigley said. 'You just need to be brave.'
'I've always been brave.' said Violet, bitterly. 'Now please, leave me.'
After he was gone Violet stayed for a while, tears still falling from her eyes, staring down at the glass bottle in her hands. She had no idea what was inside that bottle, and even less idea about what would happen to her if she pulled out that cork and emptied its contents into her husbands food tomorrow night. The fear was overwhelming. She hated Olaf with every fiber of her being, but a part of her was also afraid about what would happen if she were to loose him. Violet wasn't sure how much of herself was left anymore. She didn't want to lose everything.
'I didn't realise this was a sad occasion.' Said the waitress, as she cleared away Quigley's plate. Violet did not respond, and instead she sat, staring at the glass bottle for a very, very long time.
And then she made her decision.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Aug 24, 2022 8:01:35 GMT -5
Apologies for the delays between chapters so far. My hope is that the rest of the story should come along much quicker.
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Post by Tiran O'Saurus on Aug 24, 2022 8:06:08 GMT -5
I'm very curious were this is going. My guess: Hector flying up to the tower in the SSHAMH.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Aug 24, 2022 10:47:18 GMT -5
Chapter Six
Violet's hand trembled as she lowered the knife, gently settling it into position. She could see her face reflected up at her in the cool metal blade, and she could read the fear in herself straight away. That would have to change, Olaf would see it as quickly as she had, though on second thoughts, maybe he would like that.
She was cooking him dinner - Roast beef, an irony that almost made her smile. She had told him about it this morning, in as casual a way as she could manage. He had not replied, only giving a non-committal grunt. but that was all that had passed for conversation between the both of them in the last few weeks. She prayed he would come, and she prayed he would eat.
Olaf hadn't left the house all day. In fact, he had barely left the house since he had come back from his 'disappearance.' He merely skulked around in his room, and Violet had done her best to keep her distance. She had kept herself busy today, taking a trip into town in the morning to buy ingredients, and had spent the afternoon nervously preparing herself.
It was not unusual for Violet to cook dinners like this for her husband. n the early years of their marriage, it had been an almost daily occurrence. Back then things were much harder, though. These days, Olaf rarely made demands of her at such sort notice. Sometimes it was almost as though he didn't care if she was there or not, not anymore. And besides, it gave her something to do.
Night had begun to fall when Violet plated up her carefully constructed meal, and called for her husband to emerge from his stupor.
When Olaf entered the dining room he found Violet stood next to the table, a display of veritable treats beside her. She had washed her hair, and had a small layer of make up on her face, but most importantly she was wearing her wedding dress. She had spent most of the day contemplating the decision, weighing up whether it would alert Olaf's suspicions or subdue him. She could see from the smirk on his face that she had made the right choice.
'What is that-' Olaf said, pointing in the direction of the floor, where Inky was curled up into a ball and snoozing peacefully '-thing doing here?'
Olaf had never been fond of Inky, even though it had been so important to him at the time to capture the animal. Over the years he had begun to develop a keen dislike for the reptile, and Violet suspected it had everything to do with the companionship the creature had given her.
'He's only sleeping' said Violet, mutedly.
'Well it's disgusting, and it's putting me off my dinner.'
Violet sighed, and walked over to where Inky lay. She scooped him up into her arms, and walked out into the hallway with him. Inky nudged her irritably in the chest, put out about having to change his sleeping arrangements.
When Violet stepped back into the dining room, she was pleased to see that Olaf had already begun to tuck in to the meal. She smiled at him briefly, but he didn't seem to notice.
They sat and ate in silence for quite a while, Violet concentrating hard on the plate in front of her, try hard not to think about anything else that might happen for the rest of this evening. She did not know what the liquid that she had poured over Olaf's food would do to him, but given the time window she had been advised to operate within, she assumed its effects would not be immediate.
Olaf, for his part, was dressed in the same dirty clothes he had been wearing since he had returned. There were huge patches of mud and dirt covering him, and Violet noticed a few dark red stains of what may have been blood seeping into the fabric. He was eating his food slowly, almost uncaring. Olaf's eyes were fixed only on her, staring deeply into her. They were moving all over, drinking in every part of her body. Violet had seen those eyes many times over the years, and she didn't feel any safer for knowing them.
'Do you like your food?' she asked him.
'Meh', said Olaf, shrugging noncommittedly. He continued to stare at her, and for a moment she looked directly back at him, their eyes locking briefly in acknowledgement.
'There's something I've always wondered' said Violet, surprised at where the question was coming from, or why she was asking it now. 'Why is that you have barely even touched the Baudelaire fortune since it became yours?'
Olaf raised a corner of his eyebrow, and he looked taken aback at her even asking such a question. For a moment he held a look on his face that was both anger and pleasure at such a thought.
'Heh.' he said. 'What do you mean.'
'It's... it's just you tried so hard to get the money, and then when you did, it was like it meant nothing to you. I thought that was all you wanted.'
'Hah.' said Olaf. 'Hah hah!', he laughed, and then the next moment he tilted back his head and roared a terrible, horrendous, throaty laugh. Violet was taken aback, unsure what to make of his reaction, but the next second Olaf stood up, and walked around to where she was sat.
He leaned over her, his face pulling so close against hers she could feel his rancid breath against the skin of her cheek. Violet continued to stare forward at Olaf's empty chair as he spoke.
'I never cared about the money', he said, his voice a throaty whisper. 'It meant nothing to me. The only thing I ever wanted was to own it, and to have it, just for the sake of having it.'
He reached out and grabbed her face, pulling it towards his, fingernails scraping against her flesh and digging into her skin. She let out a small shriek, terrified.
'All I want is to own you.' he snarled, 'to have you.'
He reached in and pushed his lips against hers. Violet closed her eyes, imagining herself anywhere else but here, picturing herself in the comfort of her parents library, clinging to the memory of a life she had lost so long ago; Klaus reading aloud from an interesting book he had found, her mother whistling that tune she would always whistle, her father playing merrily with Sunny, her thoughts desperately distracting her from the sensation of Olaf reaching down with his hand and pulling her body in closer towards him..
The next moment he pulled away from her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as though he was washing away something disgusting. Violet breathed heavily, and struggled to fight tears from her eyes, though she could feel her heartbeat racing in her chest.
'Just for the sake of it', Olaf said, smirking at her.
'And look how happy its made you.' Violet replied.
Violet was prepared for the hit, but the force of it she did not expect. She smacked her head on the edge of the table, and fell out of her chair into a pile on the floor. She could feel blood pooling at the side of her face, and her ears were ringing loudly.
Olaf sighed as he walked back round to the other side of the table. Violet stayed where she fell on the floor, waiting to see what would happen next.
There was a sound of cutlery scraping against china, and Olaf stifled a yawn.
'This dinner has been a disappointment, but I'm too tired to care.'
He threw the plate onto the ground, and Violet flinched as the shards glanced in front of her face. Perhaps he had been aiming for her and simply missed, or perhaps he didn't notice.
'Goodnight my darling wife.' he said, mockingly, and left the room.
Goodnight husband, Violet said to herself, as she lay on the floor, finally allowing herself to cry.
She lay there for a long while, curled up into a ball, wearing the ruins of a dress that was far too small for her, coated in the blood of her dead siblings. It took her a long time to stop crying.
Inky slithered into the room sometime later, and came to rest his head in front of her face. She reached out to touch him, her fingers dancing against his scales. It would have been tempting to lay there all night, or forever, to just stay here and let the world pass her by. Whatever happened to her, she wouldn't care.
But no.
She had things to do.
She sat up, and felt immediately dizzy. She touched the side of her face, and could feel a deep cut running from below her ear to halfway across her cheek. Her fingers came away bloody, and she wiped them on her dress. She need to change.
'Come along, Inky' she said, the snake following her. 'But quiet now. We don't want to wake Olaf.'
As she crept upstairs, Violet considered the possibility that Olaf may not even be able to wake any longer. It seemed unlikely, she guessed, that the small bottle had contained poison. Although she was not sure what to make of Quigley, she doubted that he was the kind of person who would go around murdering people, however tenuously, or however rotten those persons may be.
She entered the small room that served as her own, and headed toward a pile of clothes that had been carefully folded and placed into a cardboard box. These were all Esme's former outfits, of course, and none of them fit her correctly, but too big was better than far too small. She chose the one that fit her best, an orange and red monstrosity that Violet had modified to be suitable for daywear.
Violet stripped out of her wedding dress and into the hand-me-down, and made to put the wedding dress back into the box, but she found herself hesitating. She hated this dress almost as much as Olaf. It made her feel sick to even think about it, and yet she found she could not part with it. It was, despite how much she loathed admitting it, a part of her now. It was only small, so wrapped it up into a bundle, and placed it into a small bag she hidden underneath the dresses, which she then took with her.
A few minutes later she arrived at the door to the tower. Inky was waiting outside, as if standing guard. Violet took the key from the bag, and unlocked the door, as she had done so many times over the years.
In the early days, Olaf's tower had been his private abode, and he had spent much of his time up here with his associates plotting his evil schemes. But as things had begun to deteriorate, he had found seldom use for the space, and Violet had eventually been given permission to go up into the tower at regular intervals and clean. She had done much more than that though.
Once she reached the top of the tower, and placed her bag down on the windowsill, she began to grow more and more apprehensive about what was going to happen. Inky hissed slightly, and he extended himself upward and settled himself next to the bag, his black body camouflaged by the night sky. There was a thin layer of misty fog cloaking everything, and when Violet looked down into the courtyard below she could no longer see the ground.
A long time ago, a fourteen year old girl had stood down there, desperately trying over and over again to climb to the top and reach her baby sister who was imprisoned atop the tower. Now she was the prisoner, and her sister was gone, so long ago. Violet almost felt as though she was different person, as though that young woman was lost, as dead as her sister and her brother and everyone else she had ever loved.
But only almost.
Violet looked out into the night sky, THE huge dark clouds billowing upwards, and she was afraid. She was used to that, but this was a different kind of fear. She had no idea what was going to happen next, and that scared her. But somehow, it also made her happy. Almost.
For a moment Violet thought she could see something moving in the sky, but perhaps she was just growing too tired. It had been a long day, and she expected she would be in for a long night as well.
She saw movement in the clouds again, something shifting, and then she saw a hand reaching out through the fog and the mist of the night, palm open, stretching out towards her.
The hand drew closer, and then it became an arm, and then a person. It was Quigley, of course, and he was hanging, impossibly, from a rope ladder, seeming to come down from the sky itself. He smiled at her, that nice smile, and then he spoke.
'Come with me.'
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Post by twigz on Aug 26, 2022 6:36:51 GMT -5
bit of ford anglia vibes à la weasley
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Post by Tiran O'Saurus on Aug 26, 2022 9:05:06 GMT -5
I feel like a more in depth review of this story is needed. I love it! The story is very careful with its characters (still curious what happened to the rest of the troupe) and I love the shear cheesiness of Quigley swooping out of the clouds to rescue Violet. This is probably the best story currently active.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Aug 27, 2022 16:24:25 GMT -5
Cheesy is definitley what I (and possibly Quigley) was aiming for. I used Quigley sparingly and 'Black Ink', and thought this would be a better chance to use his character (though I always seem to write him as a bit of knob. I promise I don't hate him). I hope that now we're reaching the halfway point I will be able to subvert peoples expectations of where the story could possibly be going.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Aug 28, 2022 14:52:49 GMT -5
Chapter Seven
When Violet woke there was a thin haze of light filtering its way into the room, making it hard for her eyes to adjust to their surroundings. It did not help that she was in a room that was alien to her, flying through the sky in a device that was even more unkowable. She sat up, finding her body was much more relaxed and rested that it had felt in a long while. The bed was soft and comfortable, a world away from the lumpy matress she had grown used to.
The window to her right was covered by a thin, netted curtain, and outside she could see the sunlight brushing up against the glass, and a scattering of clouds drifting lazily by. She made a move to sweep herself out of bed, and felt a weight on the duvet above her legs. Looking down she saw that Inky was curled up in a ball at her feet. He seemed to be enjoying the bed as well. Violet reached out and stroked his head affectionatly, and only then did she notice the man standing at the edge of the bed, waiting for her.
'Good morning Violet.' said the man. Violet recognised him from the previous evening, and she wondered how long he had been stood there.
'Good morning.' she replied. and the man simply hovered for a moment, looking at her. He had a hard face, one not too dissimilar from Olaf's, and there was a harpoon gun hung on a sling around his neck.
'We'll be having breakfast in the atrium in 10 minutes.' he said, curtly, and promptly left the room.
At the thought of breakfast, Violet was tempted to simply roll back in bed and sleep a while longer. For years she had been devoid of true social contact, and the idea of conversation with a group of strangers did not appeal to her at all in this instance. There were too many questions she needed to ask though, and she expected most of them would be wrong ones, so she slipped back into her dress, combed her hair, and readied herself for some answers.
Violet wandered from her room and quickly found herself in what she assumed to be 'The Atrium'. There was a simple table laden with food items and set for five, and a few cupboards and shelves lining the far wall, a hob and cooker sat adjacent to herself. There was a man busying himself over a pot when she entered, a man she had not seen the previous night.
'Oh, hello there!' said the man genially, and offered her his hand and a smile. 'It's a pleasure to meet you at last Violet. My name is Hector, how do you do?'
Violet took both his hand and smile, and gave him both back in return. 'Very well thank you.'
'That's good to hear. Please, take a seat. I'm just making some porridge, but feel free to help yourself to anything. Very Fine Dining is such a key part of one's morning, don't you agree?'
Violet nodded as she took the nearest seat, and Hector smiled back forlornly, as if he had been expecting a different response.
For a few moments there was silence between them, and Violet studied the array of foods before her. Here stomach was in knots, and she didn't feel like she could eat a thing. Hector sat down with a bowl of porridge, and he smiled kindly at her once more.
'Can I ask you something?' Violet asked.
'Of course. I'm sure you'll have lots of questions - we do as well.' said Hector, though Violet was unsure if she would be able to answer any of them.
'What is this place? It's incredible, and I've never seen anything like it. It's like a house, but we're in the air. It would be a great pleasure to meet the person who designed such a thing.'
'Well, It is a great pleasure to meet you, Violet.' Hector smiled again. 'This is Self-Sustaining Hot Air Mobile Home. It does what it says on the tin, really. Its fully sustainable, fully mobile, and fully full of air! It's an efficent mode of transportation and observation, and yet we never need touch the ground. Up here we can remain completely secret, hidden, and undetected. Nobody could ever find us, no matter how hard and how long they searched, not even Count Olaf. Things are dangerous down there for all you Earthers, and this is our way of staying safe.'
'Earthers?' Violet asked.
'Oh, just ignore him.' said Quigley, who seemed to have appeared as if from nowhere. 'He likes to use that name to wind the rest of us up, but he doesn't mean it really.' Quigley sat next to Violet, and pulled a piece of toast from the rack and busied himself with some marmalade.
'And who are 'the rest of you'?' asked Violet. 'What are you all doing here.'
'I told you the other day, we're an organisation that puts out fires, and now we've helped put out yours.' said Quigley.
'You mean Olaf? How has he been 'put out'?'
'He means metaphorically.' said Hector.
'What was in that bottle you gave me?'
'It was just a sleeping potion, nothing more.' said Quigley, shrugging. 'He'll probably still be out of it for another day or so, and by then we will be far, far away.'
Violet felt one of the knots in her stomach unclench, almost like a sense of relief. She wasn't even sure why, but the idea that she could have been involved in a murder unsettled her. Over the years she considered the idea of posoning, or even killing her husband in some fashion, but it had never felt right. That was not who she was. When she had slipped the liquid into Olaf's dinner she had been aware of the possibility, but she had felt sure that Quigley would have told her, at the very least for her own sake, if it's effects would have been fatal
'Why could you not have just told me what was in that bottle when you gave it to me?' Violet asked Quigley, and he paused mid-bite of toast.
'Things are... complicated. I needed to see if you would take me at my word and follow our instructions, thats all.'
'So you were testing me?'
'No' said Hector. 'I wouldn't say that.'
'Yes' said a voice from the doorway, once which had again seemingly appeared from nowhere. 'It was a test.' It was the man with the harpoon, and he was wearing a stern expression on his face. He was staring intently at Violet, his eyes exaiming hers.
'Now Jacques, please.' said Hector. 'Violet is our guest.'
'Thats what you think.' said Jacques, still staring at Violet. 'You're still far too trusting, Hector. We don't know this woman, but we do know Olaf. She could be a spy, or worse.'
'A spy?' said Violet. 'Why would I be spying on you?'
'Jacques is just paranoid.' said Quigley 'Don't worry Violet, I trust you.'
'You should know better, Quigley. Especially after what happened with Fiona.' Jacques sighed, and reached into his pocket, taking out a small notebook, and starting to search through it. 'Hector, how long is it until we reach our destination?'
'We should be there by sundown.'
Jacques nodded. 'Good. Violet, we will have the pleasure of your company until this evening, at which point we will deposit you at a safe location. Until then, you are restricted to only to the Atrium and your room. Good day.'
'I'm sorry?' said Violet, and Jacques stopped mid-turn. Clearly he had thought that the conversation was done. 'You're 'depositing me' where exactly?'
'I afraid I can't divulge that information at this time' said Jacques. 'It's better if you don't know, for everyones safety.'
'Whats going to happen if I know where you're taking?' asked Violet, incredulous.
'Information causes problems. We're safer with secrets.'
'Well, it doesn't matter either way. I'm not going anywhere.' Violet said, shaking her head. 'I can't go anywhere.'
Jacques let out a small chuckle. 'You're going exactly where we tell you to go. This isn't up for discussion.'
'But Quigley said you needed my help. He said that you could help me, and in return I would try to help you.'
'Exactly.' said Jacques. 'We've helped you by rescuing you, and now you're going to help us by going away. Everybody wins.'
'I'm not going anywhere.' said Violet. 'Not until I get some answers.'
Jacques chuckled again. 'Can you believe this?' he said, looking at Hector. 'I don't know who you think you are, but that isn't how this works. You don't get to decide what happens.'
'Now Jacques,' said Hector, gesturing politely with his spoon. 'The girl is going to expect some information about why we have to do this, at the very least. She's been through a lot, it's only fair.'
'What did you say to her, Quigley?' said Jacques, sternly pointing at Quigley, who was busy foccusing on his crusts. 'I knew I shouldn't have let you go to that meeting on your own.'
'I told her that we'd help her. Isn't that true?' he replied.
'It's unfortunate. This conversation is over.' Jacques said, and he made once more to leave the room, only for Violet to stop him once again.
'Why? Why won't you trust me??' Violet stood up, and placed her hands angrily on her hips.
'Because' Jacques let out a heavy sigh. 'For thirteen years you've been with that man, and thirteen years is an awfully long time. Who knows what he's done to you, how he might have wormed his way inside your head. Anything we say, you might just go running back and tell him about it.'
'I'm not going anywhere.'
'Yes you are. We're dropping you off this evening and then, thankfully, I'll never have to see you again.'
Violet had not expected this. She thought that she would be safe with these people, at least for a little while. She looked to Quigley for help.
'You said that -'
'I'm Sorry' said Quigley, avoiding her gaze. 'Jacques is the boss.'
'You aren't even giving me a chance.' Violets voice was beginning to grow desperate.
'We don't have any chances left to give you.' Jacques voice was beginning to rise, his words like sharp bullets fighting against her skin. 'One wrong move, one misplaced friend, and we could lose everything. If you'd wanted chances maybe you should have gotten here sooner!'
'What!?' Violet exclaimed, her hands trembling.
'Maybe you shouldn't have waited thirteen years to escape. That seems an awfully long time to wait, doesn't it? Perhaps you didn't want to escape, perhaps you were perfectly happy where you were. Or perhaps you just weren't trying hard enough.'
Violet slapped him, harder than she thought she'd have been able to, and for a moment the two of them looked at each in surprise. She didn't know where it had come from, but it seemed as though anger was always inside of her, hiding just under the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
'How dare you!' she shrieked. 'Do you think it was easy? Every single day of my life I wanted to escape. Every. Single. Day. And where were you then? If you care so much, why did you not do anything??'
Jacques chuckled again. 'Right, I want you off of my ship.'
'Jacques, please think about this.' said Hector.
'No, I've had enough!' Jacques shouted, and he lunged towards Violet. Quigley jumped up from the table, and Hector grabbed Violet's hand and pulled her out of the way, andthere was a crash as a plate smashed onto the floor.
'JACQUES!' came a new voice, powerful and authoritative, and the four of them turned as one to look in the direction of the doorway.
The woman had long dark hair, with streaks of grey running through. She had a kind, warm face, but there was a flint of fury in her eyes, and she was staring fixedly at Jacques. Violet was sure she could not have heard all of their conversation, but the woman seemed to know who would have caused the trouble anyway.
'Jacques, Will you please try to control yourself around our guest?' said the woman, and she swooped forwards, brushing past Jacques, and took Violet's hands in her own.
'Are you alright my dear?' said the woman, and she smiled at Violet. Violet looked up into her eyes, and for a moment felt confusion fog over her mind, and then realisation.
'Justice Strauss??'
She nodded gently. 'It's so wonderful to see you again. I -' Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.
'What are you doing here?'
'Yes, I'm sure you have a lot of questions.' She shot a look at Jacques. 'Ones that you should have answered, I believe.'
Jacques shook his head in disbelief. 'We aren't telling her anything. We can't risk it.'
'Oh, nonsense. This is Violet Baudelaire for goodness sake! Her parents would be turning in their graves if they could hear what you were saying.'
'We need to get her to the safe house and -'
'Safe House?' Justice Strauss shook her head. 'No no no, she is staying here with us.'
'No, I'm not having this. Lemony said that -'
'Lemony says all kinds of rubbish. Anyway, I think you'll find that Violet has the right to decide what she wants to do. I expect she's had more than enough of miserable old men making her choices for her.' Justice Strauss let go of Violet's hands, and patted her firmly on the side. 'Violet, what do you want to do?'
In that moment, Violet realised she actually did not know the answer. All her life, she had wanted nothing more than to be far away from Olaf, to feel safe. Now she was as far away from him as she could have imagined, and yet she didn't feel any safer. She thought about leaving this place, going to the safehouse or back to the city, but then she thought of Olaf. It didn't matter where she went or where she hid, he would find her. And even if he didn't. the fear of him would always be with her.
Perhaps she could stay here, up in the skies, but the people here were strange, and they seemed to be as distant from her as she was from them. Justice Strauss had been so kind to her and her siblings thirteen years ago, but she had let them down in the end, just as everybody else had. She did not know what would happen, and she did not know what had happened, and maybe that mattered most of all.
'I need awnsers.' said Violet. 'Before I can make a decision like that, I need to know what's been going on.'
'Of course you do.' Justice Strauss nodded. 'Well then, let's start at the beginning.'
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Post by Tiran O'Saurus on Aug 29, 2022 6:57:28 GMT -5
Wonderful chapter! So Quigley, Strauss, Jacques, and Hector are all VFD members. I am slightly curious about Fiona, Jacques' line scares me. In the books she only defected because of Fernald, so this leads me back to my old question of "What happened to the troupe?". Jacques is a lot less sympathetic than I'd imagined, but he has no character in canon (not Netflix) so your interpretation is valid. I do wonder why Strauss is galivanting around on the SSHAMH, as in the books she was VFD's agent on the High Court. Did they figure out that the Sinister Duo were the other judges? I eagerly await the next installment.
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Post by twigz on Aug 29, 2022 7:00:09 GMT -5
quite an odd combo of volunteers, but it makes their clashing opinions more poignant.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Oct 7, 2022 9:21:25 GMT -5
Chapter Eight
'I'm having no part of this.' said Jacques, and he stared angrily at Justice Strauss. 'If this blows up in all our faces, I'll hold you personally responsible,'
'Yes, thank you Jacques.' Justice Strauss didn't look back at him, and instead smiled at Violet. Jacques sighed angrily, and a moment later he was gone from the room.
'Don't worry about him' said Justice Strauss. 'He's had a hard few years. Though I suppose we all have, but he's taken it harder than most. Ever since his sister died... Well, he's lost himself. Lemony is the same. Those Snicket boys don't do well with grief.'
Justice moved to sit down at the table, taking the empty space, and she took some toast from the rack in front of her. All the while she looked at Violet strangely, almost smiling to herself.
'What is it?' Violet asked.
'I'm sorry, it's just that you look so much like how I remembered you, and yet you're also so different. I tried to imagine you, sometimes...' There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. 'I cannot think about what you have been through Violet, the horrors you must have seen. And yet here you are. You may be older, but I think you are still the same underneath.'
'I don't feel the same.' said Violet. 'I feel like I've lost everything.'
'I know.' Justice Strauss patted her hand gently on top of Violets. She had expected it to feel warm, but instead it was cold, almost distant.
'So then.' Justice Strauss sighed. 'The Beginning. The last time we saw each other, Thirteen years ago, was just after your wedding. I was so sickened and appalled at what had happened. At first I could barely live with myself, but I knew I had to do something. I tried to pursue any legal avenue that I could to try and find a way to fight your case. It seemed a hopeless task, and ultimately It was, but I discovered something else instead. Something much more troublesome..
'I found that there were others out there, like me, trying to help you. That was when I first met Jacques. He was so different then, so young and full of hope and optimism. He told me that he was carrying out his own investigation, one into Count Olaf, and he tried to push me in the right direction to help you. After a while, I gained his trust, and he introduced me to VFD.'
'I still don't understand,' Violet interrupted. 'What is VFD?'
'It's a secret group,' said Hector.
'An organised group.' said Quigley
'It is a secret organisation of like minded individuals. We fight fires, both literal and figurative.' said Justice Strauss. 'Your parents were members, and when they died it began a series of unfortunate events for the organisation. Many years ago, there was a schism, a divide that has worsened with each generation. We are the good side. Olaf and his associates are the bad.'
'But what was the disagreement about?'
'Well, there are some in our organisation who would like nothing more than to sit and debate the philosophical and theological issues of our times, and there are others who - to put it bluntly - would rather fight fire with fire.'
Violet didn't know what to make of this. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sit down and debate anything.
'So what happened after you met Jacques?' Violet asked.
'Well, at first nothing. We were only sharing each other's resources at this point, trying to build up a case for a legal inquiry into the events surrounding your marriage, that sort of thing. But suddenly things began to escalate. Things began to happen on Olaf's side of the schism, and we weren't sure why.'
'What kind of things?'
'Well, Monty was killed, and his reptile collection taken, the Snicket File was stolen from right under our noses, and the Quagmires were killed in a fire - all except for Quigley, of course.'
'Yeah.' said Quigley. 'I managed to escape the fire that burnt down our mansion, but the rest of my family weren't so lucky.'
Justice Strauss nodded, then continued. 'Our side arranged a meeting at the last safe place, the Hotel Denouement. However...' Her voice trailed off.
'It didn't go well.' Hector concluded.
'You see, we thought we were being clever. We invited everyone from our organisation, both sides of the schism, under false pretenses. There was to be a trial, and those in question would finally be punished for their hideous crimes. Unfortunately, it turned out that the judges of the high court were part of an even darker plot. There was a fire, and the entire hotel and everybody - from our side of the schism, at least, was killed.'
'Everyone except you, though.' said Violet
Justice Strauss nodded serenely. 'Hector was able to rescue us, and we've stayed up here ever since.'
'Ever since?' Violet repeated. 'So... what have you done up here.'
`We continue in the grand VFD tradition. We research, we write, we discuss the great mysteries of the world.'
Violet was waiting, hoping for something more substantial, but when Justice Strauss remained silent, Violet spoke again. 'You mean... that's it?'
'Well, yes. What did you expect?'
'I mean... It's been thirteen years. You must have done something.'
'Violet.' said Justice Strauss, a look of sadness in her eyes. 'What did you expect us to do?'
Violet chewed her lip for a moment. The first thought that came into her head was 'Rescue me.', but the moment it appeared there she felt how pathetic it sounded. She was not a princess locked up in a tower waiting for a handsome prince to come and rescue her.
So what did she want? These people, she realised, had no idea what to do. Perhaps nobody in the world did. They were just as lost as she was, and perhaps even more trapped, floating around in the sky for thirteen years.
'I know it's hard to accept' said Hector, as if reading her thoughts. 'But sometimes, there is simply nothing you can do. You have to just admit that things are the way they are.'
'I think I just expected something more-' Violet searched for the word for a moment, before finding it. 'Hopeful.'
'That's not quite true.' said Justice Strauss. 'There is always hope, and for the last few months we've been tracking something. Something that may well be our last, best hope of all.'
Justice Strauss walked over to a small table set into the side of the wall, and a few moments later she returned with a large, faded sheet of paper. It looked like a chart or map of some kind, with hundreds of lines, dots and notations inked onto its surface by numerous different hands.
'This has been the sum of all of our efforts. It's very hard to track something that is so small, especially when you cannot be sure whose information you can trust. There have been conflicting reports, misleading statements, and countless rumors about its location for more than a decade. But now, finally, we believe we have found the key to solving all of our problems. In fact, we are on our way to collect it now. We should be arriving at Mount Fraught this time tomorrow. '
'What is it that you're hoping to find there?' Violet asked.
'The Sugar Bowl.' Justice Strauss smiled as she said it.
It was hard not to laugh, so much so that Violet couldn't stop a smile from fleeing across her face. She had not sat idle for thirteen years, she had seen much and learned even more, poring through the information contained in Olaf's tower, and she knew that what they were discussing was hopeless. She knew where the Sugar Bowl was, and she knew even better that they would never be able to get their hands on it. If this was all they had left, then all they had was nothing.
Justice Strauss continued to talk, but the words washed over Violet like waves. She took no notice, for it did not matter. She had been rescued by people who were as hopeless as she had been, and they had no answers for her.
'If I may be excused?' she asked, rising with a start from the table. 'I'm feeling quite tired again, Can I go back to my room?'
Justice Strauss looked disappointed, though she was trying her hardest not to show it. 'Of course. Quigley, could you escort Miss. Baudelaire back to her room?'
It was the first time in a long while that Violet had been referred to by that name, and it felt strange, wrong, as if Justice Strauss had been talking to a ghost.
'Of course.' Quigley replied, a smile on his face.
They walked in silence, Violet following a few steps behind Quigley. She still didn't know her way around this place, but this was no time for her to take in her surroundings. Her mind was as lost in the clouds as this ship.
Violet had no idea what she could do now, where she could go, or even how to get there. The only thing she knew was that these people would be of no help to her. Count Olaf would be coming for her, and if they were going anywhere near where the Sugar Bowl really was, then she was going to be in danger. She needed to get as far away from Olaf as possible, and that meant she needed to get far away from VFD as well.
They came to a stop outside Violet's room, Quigley still smiling at her gently. She moved to open the door, but he put his hand gently on hers.
'It's been really nice to meet you,' said Quigley.
Violet gave a small nod, and took her hand away from his, trying to open the door again.
'You know, you and me aren't that different. Both our parents' houses burnt down, our siblings are all dead. We're both the last of our families.'
Violet wasn't really listening to him, her mind elsewhere.
'What I'm trying to say is, I think we have a connection, you and I.'
The next moment Quigley's face was suddenly moving in towards Violet's, and before she knew it his lips were on hers. It took a moment for her to realise what was happening, and then suddenly she pushed him away from her.
'What are you doing?' Violet shrieked.
'I rescued you.' said Quigley, a note of confusion in his voice.
'Rescued me?? What, so you could kiss me?'
'No, I just thought that-'
'Well, you thought wrong.' She wrenched open the door, and slammed it shut in his face.
The room was still dark from this morning, the bed an unmade mess. Violet threw herself down upon it, and began to cry gently into her pillow.
Inky had stirred when she came in, and he slithered up next to her, poking his head gently into her side.
'I don't know what do.' Violet told him.
The snake cocked its head to one side.
'I know.' said Violet. 'I'm used to it. But it's different now. I have nothing left.'
The snake looked toward the bag Violet had taken with her, sat in a corner on the floor, and he was right. She did have one thing left, and it was something that could change the course of everything that was going to happen. She had taken it from Olaf's room the night she had left and wrapped it inside her old wedding dress.
Violet went over to the bag and took out the bundle, feeling the cool metal beneath the thin fabric. She had not been sure why she had taken it with her - Perhaps she thought it was unwise to leave such a dangerous weapon in her husband's hands, especially now he had lost his favorite toy. Or perhaps somehow she had known that she might still need to use it.
Inside the wedding dress was a diving helmet, and inside the helmet were some poisonous, deadly mushrooms.
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Post by R. on Oct 7, 2022 10:07:58 GMT -5
This is so tragic… I thought there was at least some hope for VFD in this version of events.
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