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Post by counto on Nov 5, 2021 1:15:09 GMT -5
So I've been pondering on this idea for awhile. Pondering, a word which here mean to think about something very carefully before making a decision. And that decision I've decided on is writing an ASOUE AU fanfic. I'm going to start writing the first two chapters this weekend. For now here's some general info on the story. (Plot): Everyone knows the unfortunate story of the Baudelaire orphans. But what would happen if the Baudelaire’s lives took a less unfortunate and more unexpected turn of events under their new guardian Count Olaf. AKA: An AU where Count Olaf isn’t the main villain of ASOUE. (Rated: PG +13): Mild Course Language, Violence and Scary Scenes (the last two occur later on) (Main Characters): The Baudelaire’s, Count Olaf and Persephone (Olaf’s Daughter) FWI: Persephone is an alternate Beatrice II in case your wondering!
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Post by counto on Nov 7, 2021 6:34:15 GMT -5
Here are the first two chapters, I'll be uploading every two chapters each week.
Chapter One
“I’m sorry to say that your parents have perished in fire that has destroyed your entire home.”
As soon as the Baudelaire children heard these words, they felt their whole world collapse around them. Not in the literal sense that the world itself was on the verge of fatal destruction. But in the figurative sense that the Baudelaire’s own personal world was literally burning down around them.
Violet Baudelaire, the oldest daughter of fourteen years sat in the middle of her two younger siblings. While Violet’s mind was in a thousand miles away (in a figurative sense), her hands were currently invested in tying a light pink ribbon to keep her long hair out of her face. Whenever she was stressed or needed an idea for a new invention, Violet would take the ribbon out of her hair and tie it up again to think. Right now, Violet was trying to process everything that happened since they first received the news a few hours ago.
Klaus, the middle child aged twelve sat to the right of Violet. While his older sister was busy with tying her hair ribbon, Klaus clutched close to his chest the only book from their family library that wasn’t destroyed in the fire that day. He loved reading and everything he had ever read he remembered it all. The first book Klaus had ever read was Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. His mother had read it to him one summer when he was just a young child. A single tear drop rolled down his cheek onto that same book he was holding at the memory of this.
Sunny, the youngest child was barely over a year old sat to the left of both her older siblings. Unlike most infants her age, Sunny was born with a pair of very sharp pointed teeth. She also had habit of biting things from teething. Her teeth were so sharp that they could bite through almost anything. The doctors who helped deliver Sunny, told the Baudelaire parents that Sunny’s teeth would eventually straighten themselves out over time as she grew older. Sunny gnawed on her seat belt trying to keep herself occupied as they were being driven to their new home.
“Now children, I know you must be very nervous about meeting your adopted guardian. COUGH, COUGH! But I can assure that as your parent’s financial advisor, I’ve been entrusted by them to make sure that you three are placed under a suitable guardianship until Violet has turned eighteen. COUGH! Which at that time you will inherit your family fortune. COUGH!”
Mr Poe coughed into his dirty old handkerchief, while he focused his attention driving down the road. He had been the one to break the news to the Baudelaire children on the Briny Beach that day. As they sat in silence listening to the banker go on about their current financial situation with the occasional coughing fit, all they could really think was how they’ll never see their parents ever again.
“Your guardian’s name is Count Olaf; he lives on 13 Doldrum Drive about three blocks away from where your old home was. COUGH! Seeing as he is the closest living relative, this is where you’ll live until Violet comes of age. COUGH, COUGH!” Mr Poe coughed heavily into his handkerchief.
The Baudelaire’s turned their attention upon hearing about their adoptive parent Count Olaf. Klaus was the first to respond to this. “I don’t think that’s what closest means Mr Poe.” Klaus spoke up.
“Now Klaus, it’s not very polite to contradict your elders. Contradict, it means to say something that is the opposite of what someone else is saying. COUGH!” Mr Poe coughed.
“I know what the word contradict means.” Klaus replied, he knew a great many words that most people like Mr Poe for example would assume that he did not.
“What Klaus means is that we never meet this Count Olaf, Mr Poe. How exactly is he related to us?” Violet asked, trying to put on a brave face for her siblings.
“According to your family records, he is your forth cousin three times removed. Or was he your third cousin four times removed? In any case Count Olaf is listed as one of your potential guardians by your parents in case anything were to happen to them. COUGH, COUGH!”
Sunny being only a baby at the time, could only speak in a gibberish made up baby language that most children her age spoke before being able to talk. She said, “If he lives so close to us, how come we have never met him?” However, the only ones who could fully understand what she said were Klaus and Violet, who having grown accustomed to her baby talk could actually answer her.
Unfortunately, both Klaus and Violet were just as in the dark as their baby sister about this as they were. As Mr Poe drove on, the Baudelaire’s could do nothing but sit and stare out the car window catching glimpses of other families safely together in their nice cosy homes.
Eventually what seemed like an eternity due to Mr Poe’s lack of direction, they finally made their arrival at 13 Doldrum Drive very late at night. The lamp posts powered on across the dimly lite street, had they not been Mr Poe have most certainly collided with one of them.
“Well, here we are children. COUGH, COUGH! Your new home.”
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Chapter Two
Doldrum Drive was a rather pleasant and pretty neighbourhood in the City. While it was no where near as charming as the Baudelaire’s old neighbourhood, it still had a similar layout to their own. All the houses were brightly coloured, the garden lawns were lavish with beautiful flowers and had a welcoming feel to all of them.
13 Doldrum Drive was the exact opposite of that. The house was old and decrepit, completely void of any colour. No flowers or anything at all ever grew on the dead greyish grass. Handmade wooden signs were posted all of the front messily reading “GO AWAY!”, “NO VISITORS!” and “I MEAN IT!”.
The Baudelaire’s stared at the old house and the signs feeling anything but welcome. Mr Poe on the other hand seem to ignore this fact and called on them to follow him. This reminded them of the time they watched an old horror movie together, about an old house that was haunted by a ghost. At the end of the film, it was revealed to be just an ordinary house with a man dressed in bed sheets trying to scare people away.
Afterwards they would laugh at how silly they were to be scared in the first place. But as the Baudelaire’s stood at the front door of 13 Doldrum Drive, they couldn’t help but remember the haunted house from that movie and feel the same dread they had felt first time watching it.
The front door was dirty with a faded symbol encrusted on it of what appeared to be an eye. Mr Poe who was oblivious to any feelings of fear (even the Baudelaire’s), knocked on the doorknocker twice. A few seconds later their came no reply. So, he knocked louder on the door, still no response.
“Count Olaf? Hello? COUGH, COUGH! Are you home?” Mr Poe called out. They again waited but their came no answer.
“Oh well, we tried, let’s go.” Klaus lamely said but was held back by Violet by the shoulder. She gave him a look that read as if to say, “Really Klaus?” Klaus gave her a look back as if to say “Yes, really Violet!” Rolling her eyes Violet turned to Mr Poe who was knocking the door as loudly as he could.
“Mr Poe, are you Count Olaf is here? He might not be at home, or he might be asleep right now.” Violet reasoned. It would be one thing if Count Olaf was even home, and it would another if they were disturbing his night of sleep with all the noise Mr Poe was making.
“Yes, I suppose it would be rather rude to wake him if he is sleeping. COUGH! Perhaps we better come back in the morning.” Mr Poe agreeing with Violet. Just as they were about leave, they heard a loud booming voice ring out from behind the door “WHO THE HELL KEEPS KNOCKING ON MY DAMN DOOR?!”
The Baudelaire’s and Mr Poe jumped back at the sound of anger in the voice. Violet squeezed Klaus’s shoulder, Klaus held his book tighter to his chest, Sunny’s jaw drop at hearing curse words for the first time and Mr Poe remained frozen on the spot.
Footsteps marched towards the door. An eye hole on the door flicked open, an eye glared out from the outside. “I SAID, WHO THE HELL KEEPS KNOCKING ON MY DAMN DOOR?!” The eye looked about landing it’s gaze at a frightened Mr Poe.
The eye behind the door made an annoyed groaning sound at seeing him. “Oh, It’s just you.” It growled. “I thought I made it very clear to your people, that I’ll get you your money when I have.”
Mr Poe unfrozen nervously clutched his handkerchief in his hands, the Baudelaire’s could swear they saw his forehead start sweating. “Uh, actually Count Olaf, I’m not here for that. COUGH! Umm, I’m here to uh, talk to you about something important. COUGH, COUGH! Can we come in?”
The eye looked at Mr Poe puzzled for a moment. “We?” The eye turned it’s focus to the Baudelaire’s next to him. They stared at the eye in fear, waiting for it to lash out at them. But that never happen. Instead, the eye’s angry expression turned to a more curious look. Then the eye disappeared.
Behind the door sounds of clicking were heard, few seconds later the door opened slightly. The voice spoke again, a lot softer this time “Please, come in.” Mr Poe straighten himself up and ushered the Baudelaire’s in with him.
It was dark inside; the Baudelaire’s could barely see anything. Then a light appear followed by a tall thin figure carrying a candlestick holder. As the figure approached them, his physical appearance became more visible. He had dark grey hair, a goatee with sideburns, a hook nose and one long unibrow. His sullen expression remained the same as he spoke.
“Hello children, my name is Count Olaf.”
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Post by counto on Nov 14, 2021 3:44:07 GMT -5
Here's chapter 3, this one's a long one. So I decided to do it separate from chap 4. Also I'm trying make it read as Snickety as possible.
Chapter Three
“Will you walk into my parlour?” Said the Spider to the Fly. The first line from Mary Howitt’s poem The Spider and The Fly. It’s about a cunning spider who lures a gullible fly to her doom by using manipulation and flattery. When Count Olaf asked the Baudelaire’s this same question, they felt like small flies being drawn in by a large spider.
The parlour room of Count Olaf’s house was filthy. Littered with empty glass bottles and crushed out cigarette butts all over the floor. A dusty bookcase with only a few old theatre review magazines to read, Klaus noted that there were two books which he recognised as The Tempest and Macbeth. The brick fireplace lite up the room around them.
Count Olaf himself was sitting to the right in an armchair, looking over the documents carefully. Mr Poe was seated to the left in a second armchair awaiting Olaf’s response and the Baudelaire’s sat in the middle on a worn-out sofa. Finally, after several minutes of dead silence Count Olaf spoke.
“So, Beatrice and Bertrand are really dead?” He asked Mr Poe.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. They both perished in a fire in their home. COUGH, COUGH!”
“Did the fire department find any remains of them in the house?” Olaf inquired.
“The report said that the flames of the fire were so intense that it destroyed any remains. COUGH! COUGH!” Mr Poe said as matter of fact. This answer did not seem to satisfy Count Olaf or the Baudelaire’s. “Since you are the closest living resident by three blocks away, you’re a prime candidate for guardianship of their children. COUGH!”
“I don’t think that’s what closest means.” Olaf replied. Klaus mumbled the words “That’s what I said” under his breath. Both adults didn’t appear to him.
“Well, you’re still eligible regardless of the distance. COUGH, COUGH! In fact, you seem to be the only eligible family member to receive guardianship from what I’ve come to understand. COUGH!”
The Baudelaire’s noticed Olaf’s face fell into disappoint upon hearing this. It was clear from their perspective that he obviously didn’t want to adopt them. It was more disappointing hearing from Mr Poe that he was the only eligible guardian who could do so. “Is there really no one else? I remember that Bea and Bert had other relatives than me.” Olaf said, it was odd for the Baudelaire’s to hear their parents Beatrice and Bertrand referred to as Bea and Bert.
“There were other candidates, though they don’t seem to meet the criteria for guardian.” Mr Poe went on. “COUGH, COUGH! The first candidate was supposed to be mister Jacques Snicket, your brother in-law. COUGH! But from what I heard from my sister Eleanora at the Daily Punctilio; the man is a complete utter mental case. Why just a few months ago he was let go after trying to publish some absurd article piece about a so-called secret society or some nonsense like that. COUGH!”
As Mr Poe talked about this, the Baudelaire’s once again noticed Count Olaf’s expression change to look like a dear in headlights. If anyone has ever come across a dear while driving a car onto the road at night, you’ll notice that they freeze on the spot when coming into view of them. Hence the phrase like a dear in headlights. “Yes, quite absurd.” Olaf said after waiting a moment to reply.
“Indeed, we tried to get in contact with his younger brother, but he’s been dead for the past seventeen years. COUGH! The other guardian miss Josephine Anwhistle was considered as Jacques's replacement. However, when one of my colleagues at Mulctuary Money Management went to visit her at Damocles Dock about this, described her as being…” Mr Poe struggling to find the right word.
“Loony?” Olaf filled in for him.
“COUGH! I was going to say eccentric, but yes, that’s what my colleagues thought.” Mr Poe sighed. The Baudelaire’s started to notice a pattern when it came to how their other relatives were described as either “loony” or “a complete utter mental case”.
“Then we have Dr Montgomery, a world-renowned herpetologist. Unfortunately, he lives outside the City and isn’t very close to where the Baudelaire’s are. COUGH! Also, he’s described as being eccentric as well.” Another word to add on to loony and mental case, thought the Baudelaire’s.
“There are more relatives, though they all have the same eccentric traits to them. COUGH! You on the other hand, Count Olaf, appear to be of sound mind. COUGH!” Mr Poe chirped up.
Count Olaf starred back at the documents in hand and at the Baudelaire’s. “And what if I were to refuse to accept this responsibility?”
“Then they would have to be placed into an orphanage I would imagine. COUGH!” Mr Poe shrugged, the Baudelaire’s couldn’t imagine living an orphanage together or apart from each other. “Come to think of it, an orphanage would most likely be the most suitable choice. Considering your current financial situation and obvious lack of enthusiasm, yes, an orphanage. COUGH! Come along children.” Before Mr Poe could take the Baudelaire’s to an orphanage though, Count Olaf sprang up from his chair and hollered out at them “WAIT!” They stopped dead in their tracks.
“I… apologise for my… standoffish behaviour.” Olaf started in a softer tone. “It’s just that, this is all very unexpected for me. When you told that Bea and Bert were killed, it was very disheartening to hear. Especially since we never really kept in contact after all these years. Not to mention learning that they had children. Also, I’ve been very busy recently with my career as an actor and a single parent, I’ve had little time to recuperate. But I know that’s no excess of course.”
Mr Poe looked at him for a moment before nodding. “Yes, it’s true that this kind of news can cause some shock. COUGH! I myself was very disheartened to learn this, they were very close family friends and one of Mulctuary Money Managements best clients. COUGH!”
“Indeed.” Olaf nodded to this. “Why Beatrice and I use to be co-actors in our youth before she married Bertrand. I feel that I owe it to her look after her children.”
“Well, I don’t know. COUGH! I really should…” Mr Poe started but Olaf interrupted. “After all Mr Poe, I’m sure such an important man of your status at Mulctuary Money Management, should be focused on more banker related things then frivolous trying to find a home for these children here.”
Poe’s face blushed. “Well, I am Vice President in charge of coins. COUGH! Also, up for promotion. COUGH! You do make a good point though Count Olaf. Perhaps it would be better if you were to be their guardian.”
“Wonderful! Oh, and don’t worry about the money I owe. I plan to pay it back as soon as my new play production is finished. It’s going to be smash hit!” Olaf dramatically exclaimed.
“Well, that’s good to hear Count Olaf. COUGH!” Mr Poe handed him a pen. “Just sign here on these documents and the children will be all yours. COUGH!” The Baudelaire’s starred dumbstruck at what had just transpired in front of them.
Mr Poe had gullible just agreed to sign over their guardianship to Count Olaf, who merely flattered his ego. A fly caught in a spider’s web.
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Post by counto on Nov 18, 2021 23:25:30 GMT -5
This is a quick update, I'm uploading the next chapter earlier than expect. Also I'm wondering if you'd like me to continue with this story or not. PS your welcome to give feedback
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Nov 19, 2021 2:17:00 GMT -5
Haha, have you been reading my story?
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Post by counto on Nov 19, 2021 3:04:51 GMT -5
Haha, have you been reading my story? Why do you think that M?
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Nov 19, 2021 6:12:45 GMT -5
‘Will you come into my parlour’ Daniel muttered to himself ‘said the spider to the fly.’ “Will you walk into my parlour?” Said the Spider to the Fly. Great minds think alike.
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Post by counto on Nov 19, 2021 17:44:40 GMT -5
LOL, I didn't even realise that! What a coincidence. I was mostly trying to tie in as many literature references as possible in the first three chapters. Some of them very subtle. An example being both books in Olaf's "library" The Tempest and Macbeth. Stephano the character being one of Olaf's disguises in TRR. In the 2004 ASOUE movie a deleted scene with Olaf played by Jim Carrey quoting Macbeth Act Five, Scene Five. Plus I headcanon that Count Olaf is a Shakespearean fan.
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Post by counto on Nov 21, 2021 0:07:03 GMT -5
Chapter Four
One of the most awkward positions a person can be in, is having to talk to a new person who you know nothing about. Opposed to talking to a person that you know very well. One technique most people use when meeting someone new is ice breaking. Not literally breaking pieces of ice, but figuratively by saying or doing something to help the other person relax and start a conversation.
As soon as Mr Poe had left the Baudelaires in custody of Count Olaf, neither of them said a word to each other. Instead, they just stood there in silence for a few minutes. Until finally Count Olaf decided to try and break the ice.
“So…” Olaf slowly started. “How’re you doing?”
“Our parents just died today.” Klaus replied flatly.
“Right.” Olaf awkwardly avoided making eye contact with him. If there were literal ice breaking involved in this conversation, Olaf and Klaus would’ve barely made a dent on the surface. Violet was next to try an icebreaker.
“So, mister Olaf…” Violet began before Olaf interrupted. “Please, you don’t need to call me mister. Just call me Count Olaf or simply Olaf. None of that mister business.”
“So, Count Olaf.” Violet started again. “You mentioned that you’re an actor?” Olaf seemed to perk up at this. “Why yes I am. In fact, I am the most famous actor throughout the City.” He boasted.
“We’ve never heard of an actor named Count Olaf.” Klaus butted in.
Olaf’s frowned crossing his arms leaning in while eyeing Klaus. “Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about the theatre anyway.” Klaus and Olaf both glared at one another, it was clear that they didn’t like each other. Thankfully Violet intervened before things escalated any further.
“Please excuse Klaus, we’re all very tired. It’s been a long day and we’d really like to get some sleep.” Violet stood in-between the two. Klaus begrudgingly backed down. Olaf straightened himself up before motioning to them to a large grand staircase. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Count Olaf led the Baudelaire’s upstairs and through a darken hallway, the light from Olaf’s candle holder being their only source of guidance. Passing by the Baudelaires noticed various portraits of men that looked similar to the count. Grey hair, one eyebrow, hooked noses and angular bearded faces. These must be Count Olaf’s descendants the Baudelaires thought.
“I know my home isn’t as glamorous as the Baudelaire Mansion. But back in my day, this house was host to many great parties and magnificent balls. Great noblemen of birth, lords, barons, kings, and presidents would travel thousands of miles just to attend some. Why even the Duchess of Winnipeg herself spent the night here!”
As Olaf continued his reminiscent speech about the house’s great past, the Baudelaires wondered how a house with such a great past could end up in such a state of ruin? Olaf’s house may have been grand place to live back in his day. Now however, Olaf’s house seemed anything but grand.
Klaus who was tuning out Olaf’s history of the house noticed an old long spiral stairway leading up to what appeared to be an attic space. He stopped as they just briefly pasted it, looking up the dark narrow passageway hidden around the corner.
Violet with Sunny in her arms, noticed Klaus was not following along. She came to where Klaus was staring up at the stairway. Something was drawing the Baudelaires children towards up the stairs. Before they could do so, Olaf stepped in front of them blocking their path.
“What’s up there?” Klaus asked him.
Olaf turned his head, looking up to the stairway for a second in silence. He turned his attention back to the Baudelaire’s. “The tower.” Olaf knelled down to their level speaking in a hushed voice. “Now children, you are free to explore my home. But you are to never, under any circumstance, enter the tower yourselves. Understood?”
This hardly seemed to the Baudelaires, especially Klaus who seemed more interested in seeing what was in the tower then the rest of the house. However, since they were in no position to argue with their new guardian, they all agreed that they wouldn’t go up the tower themselves.
Nodding yes, Count Olaf led them away and picked up on where he left off on his speech about the old house’s grand past. Finally, they came to a door at the end of the hall. Creaking open the door revealed to be a child’s nursery room.
Various toys laid scattered across the room untouched except for some loose cobwebs. A rocking horse, a rag-doll, a model electric train set, wooden building blocks, a marble with some jaxs and a dollhouse replica of Olaf’s house in it’s prime.
There was a queen-sized bed in the back centre and an old baby’s crib in the left corner. A carved out engraving of the letter P was seen on the bed’s front base. Olaf lite up a spare candlestick by the bedside with his own.
“I hope the two of you don’t mind sharing a bed.” Olaf said to Violet and Klaus. “This is my daughter’s old room so try to break anything.”
While Klaus and Violet would’ve preferred to have bed’s of their own, they decided it would be impolite to ask for another room. Violet gently placed Sunny in Olaf’s daughter’s old crib. She spun the mobile above her, watching as Sunny tried to grab at with her tiny hands.
“Well then, I’ll let you three get some rest.” With that Olaf turned left the Baudelaires in their new bedroom. When Violet was sure he was out of ears reach, she elbow Klaus. Though it wasn’t that hard of a hit, Klaus still felt the pain in his right arm. “Ouch, Violet!” He hissed.
“That was for what happened downstairs!” Violet of course was referring to Klaus’s cold reception to Count Olaf and nearly getting into a fight with him when he questioned his brag about being famous.
“Come on Vi, don’t tell me you didn’t see the way he just acted with us and Mr Poe?” Klaus rarely called Violet as Vi, usually it was when he was really serious about something.
Violet sighed “I know Klaus I was there too. I’m sure that Count Olaf was acting…standoffish, because he was tired and didn’t know we we’re coming.” She used the word standoffish in place of a ruder word that she wouldn’t say near Sunny.
Klaus sat down on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry Vi, it’s just… we don’t know anything about Count Olaf or why our parents ever left us in his care.” The mention of their deceased parents brought a wave of sadness over them.
Violet seated herself next to Klaus, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I think if anyone knows who would take good care of us, it’d be mom and dad.” Klaus rubbed his eyes; he didn’t want his older sister to see him cry. “Thanks Violet.”
“No problem, Klaus.” Violet smiled, she started to enjoy taking on a motherly role. Violet noticed that something was inside one of Klaus’s shirt pockets. “What’s that in your pocket Klaus?”
Klaus pulled out a long shiny spyglass with strange symbols carved into the lens around it. One thing Violet noticed was that the eye hole lens were shaped like an eye. She swore that she saw that exact saw symbol somewhere before.
“It’s a spy glass, I found it in dad’s study place when Mr Poe bought us back from the Briny Beach. I don’t know what all these carvings and symbols mean though.” Klaus explained.
Suddenly it dawned on Violet, that exact same symbol of an eye was the same one on Olaf’s door. Klaus noticed Violet’s slight shock and asked, “What is it?” Violet coming back to her senses said, “It’s nothing Klaus.” They were would later find out that it was indeed something.
That's Chapter Four, the next chapter will introduce Persephone aka alternate Beatrice II and also be from Olaf's perspective. Also, I'm thinking about possibly rewriting The Villain of The Story.
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Post by HAL 10,000 on Nov 21, 2021 10:36:54 GMT -5
I'm interested to see where this goes.
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Post by counto on Nov 27, 2021 1:05:06 GMT -5
Before reading Chapter Five and Six, I just want to warn you there's going to be swearing. Also I'm going to be re-posting this story revised into Archive of Our Own as soon as my account activates on Dec 12. It'll be under the title of An Unexpected Turn of Events: Part One. I plan to do the story format similar to the original books but with three books in one. The first being TBB, TRR and TWW. Second TMM, TAA, TEE. Third TVV, THH, TCC. Fourth TSS, TGG, TPP and the fifth and final part is TE.
Chapter Five
Why him? Why would they in trust me of all people, with children? Was this some kind of sick joke that both Bea and Bert had in mind when writing their will? He was certain that they wanted nothing to do with, Olaf made sure of that. Especially towards Bert who he had punched square in the face after calling him “a drunken coward and a terrible actor.”
Perhaps it was Beatrice who insisted on putting him in the will. Dear Beatrice, always trying to see the good in people (even if it wasn’t there). He could imagine that Bertie and her would’ve had a field day over this. Still, he never would’ve imagined being left in charge of their kids. Who he half suspected were younger cloned versions of themselves.
The boy, Klaus he believed his older sister called him looked almost identical to Bertrand. From the rounded lensed glasses to the know-it-all air about him. Hell, if Bertrand shrank down a couple of feet they could very well be considered as twins.
His sister Violet, he remember from when that bear banker talked about her inheritance, was a mix between both Bertrand and Beatrice. She had her mother’s long dark brown hair and her father’s lilac eye colour. Her behaviour was also similar to how Bea would act whenever their was conflict.
The baby Susie, was it Susan? Whatever her name was seemed to be the odd one out. Mainly due to her so called “teeth” that looked ready to rip someone’s throat out. Note to self: can she rip someone’s throat out? Maybe I should start wearing a scarf. A very thick scarf.
Wait a minute, what was he thinking? These kids aren’t his problem. He never agreed to be their guardian. I mean technically he just did, but that was only because he would’ve likely felt guilty if they ended up in an orphanage. But that didn’t mean he wanted them here, I already have enough salsa to deal without having to run around and play parent for a bunch of orphans.
No, he would have to find them another guardian. Bea’s children or not they were not staying in this house. “Junior.” His dead father’s disapproving voice in the back of his head. “You think that Beatrice and Bertrand would ever forgive you if you just went and abandoned their children?” He sighed. Even in death his father would still constantly judge him.
But who’s to say that they weren’t dead? They hadn’t found a body and he really doubted that the fire would completely destroy any trace of them. He’s seen enough burned corpses to know better. Perhaps Bea and Bert escaped and will come and get their children. Or maybe they got captured or worse killed. He hoped it didn’t come to the latter.
God, I need a drink. Pulling out a flask, he attempted to drown out these bad thoughts. CREAK! Olaf paused; he knew that sound. The sound of someone trying to sneak in through the front door without being heard. He almost laughed; Olaf would think that his daughter would know better by now to sneak out unnoticed by going through that creaky old door.
“And just where have you been?” He didn’t have to turn around to his daughter’s surprised expression. Turning around he saw her, standing their near the entrance of the parlour: Persephone.
“Out, what of it?” She snarked. The sixteen-year-old girl had her hands on her hips, a gesture Olaf was all too familiar with. Having gone through a rebellious phase around her age and would often get scolded for it by his own father. She was very much like him. Proud and stubborn to a fault. Her appearance was closer to her mother. Short cut dark black hair and grey eye colour. Dressed in black T shirt and skirt that in Olaf’s opinion didn’t cover enough of her arms and legs.
Everything about her shouted “This is me, deal with it!” Even her name stood out. Olaf remembered that him and Kit joked about it when she was first born. Kit named her after her favourite poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne. Olaf would joke about naming their daughter after literary character. While she joked about calling her Olaf XIV. It was always a tradition in his family to name their son’s after their fathers, while the mothers would choose the names of their daughters.
So, her mother had been the one to name their child. He had hoped that he’d get the chance to name their next one but that never happened. “Don’t give that tone young lady, your lucky I’m feeling fairly lenient tonight.” Persephone rolled her eyes. “Whatever Olaf.”
One thing that irritated him was the fact she referred to him as Olaf. Not dad, just Olaf. The last time she ever called him dad when she was very little. Then one day she started calling him Olaf instead. He tried making her call him dad, but she wouldn’t budge. In the end he just gave up altogether. If she wants to call me that then so be it.
“Hey, I saw Poe’s car drive by. What did he want?” Persephone asked. She had met Mr Poe a couple of times in the past, mainly when he came by to collect the money he still owed. Persephone made sure to tell him to politely “ickle off” whenever he paid a visit.
“Just the usual.” That was a not entirely true. He had assumed Mr Poe came to collect the money, only to drop off three children that he had no idea what to do with. He didn’t mention that part. So, it wasn’t a lie if he didn’t bring that part up.
Persephone sighed “You know you’re going to have to pay them back eventually.” As if he didn’t need reminding. With the consent pop ins from Mr Poe’s associates, bills marked urgent and threatening phone calls from realtors. Olaf’s solutions to these were as followed:
1. Don’t let Mr Poe or anyone else from the bank inside the house at all 2. Place the bills in his neighbour’s mailboxes (so it looks like the mail got lost) 3. Dress up in bed sheets and scare people away looking to buy the place
These weren’t permeant solutions, but they managed to work so far. “I’m working on it.” She didn’t look convinced. Persephone may have believed him the first dozen times, but she knew better now not to take her father’s word for it. Despite this he refused to let his family home be taken from him. The house itself was over 300 years old and had been lived in since the first Count Olaf.
“ARRGGHHHHH!” A blood curdling scream suddenly wailed out from upstairs. Olaf rushed upstairs to where the Baudelaires were. Violet was screaming as a feather winged bat fluttered around the room. Klaus was trying to swat at it with a book. The baby watched all this from the crib.
Klaus was about to crush it until Persephone hollered at him “STOP!” She stood next to Olaf holding an oval birdcage, calling out a command “BELA, COME!” The bat flew straight into its cage.
“I thought I told you not to let that thing out in the house!” He yelled at his daughter. Of all the pets Persephone could have, she had to choose a bat. He partly blamed Kit for being a Baticeer herself.
“Bela hates being shut up in her cage all the time! She gets irritable!” Persephone turned her attention to the Baudelaires. “And who’re you and what are doing in here?!” He sighed. Might as well tell her the news.
“Persephone these are the Baudelaires, Baudelaires this is my daughter. They’ve recently lost their parents and will be living with us…” Before Olaf could finish Persephone went hysterical “WHAT THE FU-!” Clamped a hand over her mouth, he quickly dragged his daughter out of the room.
When they halfway down the hall, he let go of her. “Listen, I was going to tell you…”
“WHAT THE ickle OLAF?! I COME ickleING HOME AND YOU ADOPT SOME RANDOM ickleNG KIDS WITHOUT TELLING ME! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND? WHAT THE ickle WERE YOU THINKING?!” Persephone ranted.
“I KNOW, JUST LISTEN!!!” Olaf rubbed his temples in frustration. “Look, Mr Poe came by because their parents have made me their legal guardian. I was going to say no, but the children don’t have anywhere else to go. And I’m not sending them to an orphanage. I was going to tell you about this, but this whole thing has just been so…unexpected.”
Persephone’s expression soften, she sighed. “Look, I understand where your coming from here. But do you really think it’s a good idea to take in three more mouths to feed?”
“I know, but they just lost their home and need a place to stay.” He sighed. “For now, they’ll be staying with us until I can figure out what to do with them. So please Persephone, try and be nice to the Baudelaires, for me.”
“Fine.” She grumbled. “But they better not lay a finger on Bela!”
“They won’t.” He reassured. Persephone sighed. “It’s late, I’m going to my room.” By room she meant the basement, Persephone turned and uttered the word night to him. He headed back to the Baudelaires were standing in silence.
“I’m sorry about her. Persephone can be a bit standoffish. She’ll warm up to you soon enough.” He hoped. “Well, good night Baudelaires. Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite, literally.”
“You mean figuratively, right?” Klaus asked.
“Um, sure.” He did in fact mean literally.
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Chapter Six
And when they woke up, they had realized it was all just a bad dream. The Baudelaire children were safely in their own beds at home and both their parents were alive and well. I wish I could say this was true, but as a writer I must give you all the valid factual details to this story. If you wish to stop reading up to the first two paragraphs, I’d advise doing so.
The Baudelaires had woken up disappointed the next morning to find that the events of yesterday wasn’t a dream and had actually happened. They were still in Count Olaf’s house and both of their parents were still dead.
“Pinch me.” Klaus said to Violet. The ritual of having someone else pinch is to see if the other person is dreaming or not in an unbelievable situation. The situation in Klaus’s case was whether they had really lost their parents and home.
Violet pinched Klaus; he didn’t wake up. Klaus pinched Violet, she didn’t wake up either. Because they were both wide awake and had bed bug bites to prove it. “I thought it was all a bad dream.” Violet sighed hoping that it had been. “More like a nightmare.” Klaus moaned getting up out of bed.
Many people think that bad dreams and nightmares are the same thing, when in fact they are not. A bad dream for example like finding yourself completely naked out in public. You would know that you were dreaming it, because you would never forget to put your clothes on before leaving home. However, you cannot wake up until the dream ends.
A nightmare on the other hand, say learning the love of your life has died only to later learn that same person was in fact still alive after burying them. The shock would cause you to wake up immediately. I once knew a man from Austria who had dreamed about turning into a giant cockroach and could not wake himself up because he was having a bad dream and not a nightmare.
“We might as well see if Count Olaf is awake or not.” Violet said picking up Sunny from the crib. Sunny had surprisingly slept much better in Persephone’s old crib then Klaus and Violet in her bed bug infested bed. “Somnia” or “I had the strangest dream last night. I was locked up in a bird cage and playing cards with a man with no hands.”
As the Baudelaires headed downstairs, they noticed the interior of the house better as bits of sunlight poured out through the boarded-up windows. A thick layer of dust coated the entire foyer. Olaf’s house was the most untidiness place they had ever seen.
They heard the sound of heavy snoring coming from the parlour room. On the couch where the Baudelaires sat last night was Count Olaf passed out with a half empty flask in hand. The smell of cheap booze wafted from his breath.
“Count Olaf.” Violet lightly tapped his shoulder, he didn’t stir. Klaus shook his shoulder. “Wake up.” That time Olaf jerked awake. “I don’t wanna go to boarding school mommy…” Olaf mumbled from his dream. The Baudelaires fought back the urge to laugh at this. His eyes blinked awake at them. “Oh, I thought I was dreaming.” Olaf sighed, hoping last night was just a bad dream as well.
He groaned as he straightened himself up on the couch, both hands on his head. No doubt a result of hangover from drinking too much, Klaus bitterly thought. Count Olaf looked up at the Baudelaires unimpressed faces looking at him. “What?”
“We’re hungry.” Violet replied. The Baudelaires hadn’t eaten anything since they came to Olaf’s house. They did have dinner with Mr Poe’s family before coming over, but their appetite was lost due to the news and both Mr Poe’s children Edgar and Allan’s rudeness towards them.
“Kitchen is stage left, food’s in the cabinet. Knock yourselves out.” Olaf nonchalantly said.
“We don’t know how to cook.” Klaus retorted, growing tired of Olaf’s “standoffish” behaviour.
Olaf looked at them incredulously “Didn’t your parents ever teach you how to cook?” His opinion on the Baudelaires was that they always had servants cater to their every whim. This wasn’t true. While they use to have staff members in their old home, the Baudelaires had always offered to help them.
“We did help out with some chores with our parents.” Violet replied, she use to help their old cleaning lady Mrs Hudson with the laundry. When the washing machine broke down one day, Violet managed to fix it for her. The Baudelaires wondered what would happen now that the servants weren’t working for their family anymore and if they would still care now that they were penniless.
Count Olaf noticed the Baudelaires sadden expressions thinking about this. Sighing he stood and asked them, “What do your parents normally make you?” They looked at him slightly confused.
“If your going to live here, your going to have to learn how to be independent. I’m assuming you know what the word independent means. I’ll help out from time to time, but you’ll have do somethings yourself. So, I’ll ask again, what do your parents normally make you? And keep in mind I’m only one man and not an army of five-star chefs.”
The three thought about this very carefully. While they knew how to be independent, they weren’t as fully prepared to be self-reliant yet. So, it was at that point the Baudelaires decided to take the opportunity to learn and gain independence while living with Count Olaf.
“French toast, they made us French toast for breakfast.” Violet said.
“Well, I don’t know that much about French cuisine, but I do have a loft of bread and a toaster.”
“That’ll be perfect.” Violet politely excepted.
Olaf led the Baudelaires to the kitchen, greeted by a mountain of piled dirty dishes, pots and pans. He handed them the harden block of bread and grabbed out a rusty knife from the draw. Noticing Sunny, he asked “What does she normally eat?”
“Anything solid is fine for Sunny to eat. Except peppermint, we’re allergic to that.” Klaus replied.
Count Olaf considered this, knowing that most infants Sunny’s age ate mashed up goop. But most infants Sunny’s age didn’t have a full set of teeth. After the Baudelaires slice their bread and had it toasted (slightly burnt), they follow Count Olaf to the dining room. A long table with chairs stretched out in the centre. Olaf sat himself at the very end on a throne like chair. Behind him was a wide window shaped like the eye symbol from Klaus’s spyglass and the front door.
Klaus, Violet, and Sunny sat at the back of table facing Count Olaf and the giant glass eye staring at them. “So, how did you sleep last night?” He asked them. Klaus and Violet debated on whether to ask about the consent use of eyes in the house’s architecture. Why an eye of all things?
“It was alright. We had a bit of hard time falling asleep. Probably do being our first night in a new house.” Violet explained, leaving out the part about the literal bed bugs.
“Yes, I can be a bit hard to get use to at first. You’ll get use to it.” Olaf crunched on a piece of toast.
“Use to bed bugs?” Klaus wanted to say, but instead choose to take a different approach. “So last night you said you were an actor, correct?”
“That would be correct, I am also the director, manager, writer and producer of all my stage productions. Each one my work.” Count Olaf proudly said.
“May I see one of them?” Klaus asked wanting to see if Olaf’s plays were as famous as he claimed.
Grinning he pulled out from his suit a manuscript and tossed it across the table, landing right in front where the Baudelaires were sitting. Klaus read the title aloud “The Courageous Count by Al Funcoot?” Al Funcoot? Klaus thought for a moment. He had never heard that name before.
“Who’s Al Funcoot, Klaus?” Violet asked him. Klaus tried to think of famous playwrights he read about but couldn’t remembered anyone by the name of Al Funcoot. Finally, Klaus said in a small voice “I don’t know.”
Count Olaf let out a Ha upon hearing this, earning a glare from him. “Don’t look at me like that, there was no way you would’ve known anything about Al Funcoot. Because Al Funcoot doesn’t even exist.” He explained.
The Baudelaires looked puzzled by this. “But how can someone who doesn’t exist write all your plays?” Violet asked. Klaus then slapped his head in realisation. “Ugh, of course, Al Funcoot’s name is an anagram for Count Olaf. How could I not see that!” Mentally scolding himself.
“Don’t beat yourself up. Not many people figure that out the first time around.” While Count Olaf did find it satisfy outsmarting Bertrand’s son, he didn’t want to rub it in too much.
“But why use an anagram of your own name for a play you wrote?” Violet curious to hear.
“Well Violet, most play productions don’t have their lead actors as writers and sometimes there are critics who after the show is over want to know who wrote about it. Some I created my own persona: Al Funcoot, so that when they ask who wrote the script I’ll say, “I am Al Funcoot, and I wrote this play.” Olaf exclaimed.
“And if it stinks, he tells them it was Al Funcoot’s fault.” Persephone’s voice came from behind the Baudelaires. She held a newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee with a black cat’s face on the mug.
“Ah, good morning your royal highness, I see you care to grace us with your presence.” Olaf sarcastically said in a fake posh accent.
“Can it Funcoot, too early to deal with your salsa.” Persephone growled, taking a seat in the middle of the table. She tossed the newspaper at the Baudelaires. The front-page title read:
THE DAILY PUNCTILIO BAUDELAIRE MANSION BURNS DOWN! By Geraldine Julienne
The Baudelaires felt their stomachs drop at reading this. Persephone sat there watching, waiting for a reaction. Olaf glared at Persephone. He knew what she was doing was to the Baudelaires. Her plan was to make them feel as unwelcome as humanely possible.
“Clyde? My name is Klaus not Clyde! How could they mess that up?”
This was not the reaction Olaf or Persephone expected. “Forget that Klaus, look at how many spelling errors they’ve made here!” Violet pointed her finger on it. “Oh of course they got that wrong! What are the odds?” Klaus scoffed. Klaus and Violet along with Sunny continued to point the terrible spelling and misinformation in the news article. Persephone frowned while Olaf smiled at his daughter’s failed attempt to upset them. KNOCK! KNOCK! Everyone went silent at the door knocking.
“Who do you suppose that is?” Klaus asked nobody in particular.
“It’s probably that moron with more orphans to give away.” Persephone grumbled under her breath. The moron she was referring to was Mr Poe.
“If it is him, I’m going punch him in his stupid face!” Olaf headed off to the front door. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny followed after Count Olaf to make sure he didn’t punch Mr Poe in his stupid face.
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Post by counto on Nov 27, 2021 1:16:39 GMT -5
Also anyone know how to turn the swearing on?
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Post by counto on Dec 8, 2021 20:13:44 GMT -5
Heads up, I got my Archive of Our Own account sorted and have posted An Unexpected Turn of Events (AUTOE) Part One: The Strenuous Start. Look for TheAuthourIsDead and you'll find it there.
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Post by counto on Dec 10, 2021 22:40:56 GMT -5
Hey everybody, quick update. I'm going away this week and won't be back till after News Years Eve. So I just want to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Also I'll be posting my ASOUE fanfic on Archive instead of here. The link to it is below: archiveofourown.org/works/35595043/chapters/88740106
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Post by HAL 10,000 on Dec 11, 2021 0:12:06 GMT -5
Have a good trip.
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