𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐫𝐲.
~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing I remember was that wherever I was, was not my bed. Also, it was really bright, so I deducted that it was early morning by now and during the warmer season. Wait, wasn't it just winter back at my house?
I needed to figure things out and that meant getting out of this bed.
Unfortunately, that first part of my plan didn't work out so well. Being sucked into a portal to gods knows where (yes, I'm a Percy Jackson fan. No I do not like the movies) had made my legs fall asleep . My nose hurt the most as I met the floor face-first.
To my surprise, a female voice from down below called up to me. "Rory, dear, time to get up!"
Who the heck was this woman and why did her voice sound so vaguely familiar?
I knew I had to respond or else she'd probably get worried, so I said, "Coming!"
Okay, I thought. First things first, I gotta take a shower. I stink.
Priorities, am I right?
I didn't know who this woman was, where or even when the heck I was, but I wasn't going to do it while smelling or on an empty stomach, for that matter. Mystery Lady better know how to cook a decent meal . If not, I'm ordering take-out.
I showered quickly and dried myself off. While drying my hair, I opened my wardrobe which, for some reason, had all the clothes from my old closet except for the fancy ones my parents got on my birthdays. if you ask me, and I never wore those anyways. The clothes that I like represented what I like, like T-shirts with cheesy quotes from my favorite books or movies or ones that had pictures from my favorite shows.
Since I was in the middle of a mystery myself, I put on a T-shirt with the Scooby gang on it and some jean shorts. I hated wearing shoes unless it was absolutely necessary, so my bare feet padded the stairs as I hurried down, pretending to yawn.
I froze in the doorway to the kitchen when I saw who was standing there. A middle-aged woman with short curly brown hair had her back to me as she concentrated on her cooking. She was wearing a black blazer and a matching skirt.
She turned around and her smile brightened as she noticed me. "Aurora, how did you sleep?"
"Fine. . ." I glanced outside. My face looked calm, I hoped, but inside, I was screaming like a banshee.
JOAN CUSACK IS IN FRONT OF ME! SHE KNOWS MY NAME! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!
And that was only a tenth of my thoughts, but you get the idea: I was understably freaking out. What kind of alternate universe did I pop into? And why couldn't it have been Hogwarts?
Don't get me wrong, it's great that Joan Cusack, the woman who played Justice Strauss in A Series of Unfortunate Events, was apparently my guardian, or mother.
"Is something troubling you, Rory?"
I snapped my head up. "Oh, no. Nothing."
She sighed, as if she knew what I was thinking . . . but she couldn't . . . right?
"Aurora, if you want to know about your mother, you can just ask me, okay?" She didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "You remind me so much of my sister. You look just like her, too."
I nodded. At least I got some info. Joan Cusack is my aunt from my mother's side, and she is supposedly dead, causes unknown. Wait, does the actress even have a sister?
I wonder if I should ask about my "dad".
I'm so confused.
I decided not to when I looked at the fridge, which had a note scribbled on it.
I squinted. "Um . . . Auntie, don't you have a meeting to go today?"
She gasped and stood up. "Oh I completely forgot! There's a High Court meeting today that I'm supposed to attend! What would I do without you, Rory?"
"Not be organized, that's for sure." I laughed half-heartedly.
Then, the words that she said registered in my mind. Court meeting? But she was an actress, wasn't she?
Unless . . .
"Aunt Strauss?" I asked, my voice wavering a little.
She hummed, indicating that she was listening.
Oh.
My.
Gods.
Okay, play it cool, Rory. Don't be a Marinette.
"Is it alright if I stay in my room?"
She sighed. "Aurora, I know you love to read, but it's a nice day! Get out and enjoy the sunshine!"
"Fine. I'll read a book under a tree or something."
"I'm not changing your mind, am I?"
"Nope."
She sighed in resolution. "At least I know you won't do anything reckless."
With that being said, she sprinted out the door, which was a pretty funny sight to see, waving goodbye to me. Then, she drove off.
I looked across the street. If I am where I think I am, there was only one more thing I needed to confirm it.
I should've been upset, scared, terrified, or even a combo of all three when I saw the house across from mine, but I wasn't. Not really, at least.
The tall decrepit manor was surrounded by an aura of negativity. It stood tall, but dirty with an overgrown and dead garden, a huge difference from the one Justice Strauss had, which was neat, trimmed, and well-kept. In the middle of the building jutted a tower, taller than the other roofs. I craned my neck up to look to the top and squinted. It was hard to see with the gloomy clouds blocking my view, but I noticed a tall dark figure standing in the tower at the base of the huge window.
I froze.
I wasn't prepared on seeing Count Olaf yet. Heck, I only just learned that I was in the world of A Series of Unfortunate Events not half an hour ago. I couldn't see very well from down there, but I had the creepy feeling he had noticed that I was staring . . . and that he was staring at me.
"I need a nap," I announced to myself.
Dimension traveling really took a lot out of you. After I was well-rested, I would draw-up a game plan for what I needed to do.
I trekked up the carpeted stairs and leaned against my bedroom door, exhaustion having taken a hold of me. It was then that I noticed that my door had a sign that said something I had tried putting up on my previous bedroom door, but my parents had thrown it away.
★彡[ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴍɪɢᴏᴅ,
ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ/ᴡɪᴢᴀʀᴅ,
ᴇʟꜰ,
ꜰᴀᴇ,
ᴏʀ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪꜱɴᴇʏ,
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ!]彡★
"Ha," I muttered to myself.
I belly-flopped on my bed, kicked my slippers off my feet, and let my head sink into the memory foam pillow.
Of course, asking for a little energy replenishing nap was too much to ask. I don't know what to call what I did, but here's what happened.
I found myself standing on a beach on a cloudy day. I had to guess it was today because . . . I don't know, actually.
I remembered this from the show; it was Briny Beach, which meant—
"Are you ready?" asked Violet, right on cue.
I screamed, flailing my arms. It was at that moment that I realized that I wasn't visible to the Baudelaires because that would be totally humiliating and not the kind of first impression I wanted to make on them . . . especially Klaus.
"Let's get to work!"
Speak of the devil.
I whirled around and shrieked as KLAUS FRICKING BAUDELAIRE walked right through me. I grabbed random parts of myself to make sure I was still whole.
After assuring myself multiple times that I was, I noticed something. More specifically, someone.
"Violet Baudelaire was the eldest Baudelaire child. She was fourteen years old, right-handed, and had a knack for inventing and building unusual devices."
"Wha. . .?" I whispered.
I think my mind has been completely blown.
Transported into another dimension? Okay, adjustable.
But watching Lemony Snicket narrate the story just as he had in the show, word-for-word? Nah, no. Just no.
I'm sorry, but I gotta step in.
"Hi, excuse me," I said, staring Mr. Snicket down (staring him up more like) when he noticed I was there. "Yeah, hi. We gotta talk."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Pardon granted. Now, I say this in the most respectful way, where in the name of Olympus am I?!"
"Yo—you shouldn't be here!"
"And yet, here I am." I gestured to myself. "So, if you don't mind, I need answers, or else."
"I am afraid I cannot help you," answered Mr. Snicket solemnly. "I must tell the tragic tale of the Baudelaires, which I failed to change."
A shiver ran up my spine, meaning I just had an epiphany—a big word, I know. Maybe, just maybe, the reason I was brought here was because some powerful being or something wanted to change things for the Baudelaires—make their life less tragic—and decided to choose a hard-core ASOUE fan.
"Hang on!" My voice rose in excitement. "Maybe that's why I'm here! You couldn't change their fate, but I can!"
"I—excuse me?" Poor guy was so lost.
"You're excused." I rubbed my hands together, grinning like a maniac. "Also, sorry, but I'm taking over narrating this story."
"Wait—!"
I didn't wait.
Then, I turned to you. Yes, you, the reader, and winked, mouthing the words, "Buckle up!"
I began to walking along the beach as I narrated.
"So, if you've already watched the show, you'll know these guys, but I'll introduce you anyways. My way."
Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were unaware of what had just happened, and they were unaware of what was going to happen to their parents . . .
"Klaus Baudelaire—only son of the Baudelaires, middle kid, and all-around smart guy, not to mention his glasses, which just make him look so cute and—sorry, I'm getting off track. He wore suits that made him look hot—I MEAN SMART! Yeah . . . smart."
"The angle of the prevailing currents are 0.524965224. Of course, we still need the right projectile."
"He was so smart."
"Sunny, do we have the right projectile?" Violet asked her baby sister.
"Ooh! Moving on to the littlest, and most iconic Baudelaire, Sunny!"
"Could you find a rock that's not sandstone?" Sunny babbled, which of course, I, the narrator, completely understood.
"Sunny spoke in a language that many others assumed was just a bunch of babbling, but Violet, Klaus, and I understood her completely. She may have been small, but she made up for it with pointy teeth. Speaking of which, I really wanna see her bite Olaf's ankle. Old crone deserves it."
"That's perfect, Sunny." Violet smiled gratefully.
"Excuse me, Violet, but why are you using your left hand?" Klaus asked politely.
"I'm curious to see if I can skip the rock as far with my left as I can with my right."
"I don't mean to criticize, but but standard scientific method calls for stable systematics. You should use your standard right-handedness," Klaus pointed out.
"That does seem reasonable," she agreed.
"I agree," said Sunny.
"Klaus, what's that thing Einstein said?"
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science."
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science," Klaus replied.
"That's what I said."
"I don't normally agree with philosophers, but Einstein was right on that one," Violet admitted.
"And what's that thing James Brown said?" Klaus asked.
"I got something that makes me want to shout," Violet began.
"I've got something that tells me what it's all about."
"I'm super bad!" Violet and Klaus said in unison, grinning.
"It worked!"
Klaus smiled. "I never expected otherwise."
"I never expected otherwise from Violet. Originally, this would've been a good point to leave the story at, for the rest of their lives were not meant to be pleasant, but now I'm here! Yay!"
"I just wish Mother and Father had seen it," Violet remarked, a little sad.
"At least your parents would've been proud of you regardless . . . Okay, wow. Bitterness does not suit me."
"It's not like them to send us off on our own so unexpectedly." Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, a sure sign he was thinking twice about this situation.
"Unfortunately, it was too late for the Baudelaire parents. Even if I had ran all the way from here the moment I somehow ended up here, I'd never have made it, and even if I had, I couldn't have done anything. I literally go through everything, like a ghost."
"Who is that mysterious figure?" asked Sunny.
"It only seems scary because of the mist." Klaus didn't sound very confident of his statement. It's times like these I just wanna tell him everything so he doesn't have to be so scared.
I didn't have to, however, because Violet, a little surprised, said, "It's Mr. Poe."
"From the bank? What's he doing here?" Klaus asked.
"How do you do?"
"How do you do?"
"How do you do?"
"'How do you do?'?! Seriously, I love you three, but you sound like flipping robots when you say that! You could make things a little more interesting, you know? Spice things up. Like, you could say 'what's up?', 'how goes it?', 'whaddup!'. The possibilities are endless, ya know?"
"Fine, thank you."
"It's a nice day," Violet said, trying to make small talk.
Mr. Poe just smiled. "It is a nice day. I have some very bad news for you children. Your parents have perished in a terrible fire."
Violet dropped the smooth stone she was holding.
"It was at this moment that I was very conflicted with myself. If I could touch these guys, which one of these should I do—hug the Baudelaires or punch that clueless banker straight in the face? I mean, who just switches subjects like that?! Not to mention, you could've broken it to them way more gently. Violet's still fourteen, Klaus is still twelve, and Sunny? She's a baby!
"They perished in a fire that destroyed your entire home," Mr. Poe continued, oblivious to the looks on the three children's faces. "I'm very, very sorry to have it tell you this . . . my dears—"
"Not sorry enough, you—"
"'Perished' means 'killed'."
"How dumb do you think they are?! If anything, you're dumb and I have an entire fandom to back me up on this!"
"We know what 'perished' means." Klaus's voice was wobbling. Even though I couldn't touch him, I still hovered my hand over his shoulder. It was the best I could do for him . . . for now.
I suddenly found myself in a tunnel then, exactly like the one Lemony Snicket is in when he narrates the next bit.
Okay. Fine, Universe. I'll play your games.
"I watched and re-watched A Series of Unfortunate Events until I basically memorized almost all of the lines by heart . . . not that I would mouth them while I was watching or act it out, of course. That would be preposterous, heh! Anyways, even though I haven't had the chance to save the Baudelaire parents, there is still hope for the kids. I just have to somehow make my Aunt Strauss see that Count Olaf is evil before she gets tricked by him. Easy enough.
"I wouldn't know how the Baudelaires felt, seeing as my own biological parents and I do not get along, but if I were to lose someone I care about a lot like . . . Emily? Yeah . . . like Emily. The woman's like a mother to me. I miss her so much right now, but anyways, if I were to lose Emily, I think I would be in denial, at first. That's how I think the Baudelaires were, that is, until they saw what was left of their mansion."
My scene shifted again.
Now, I was standing in the ruins of the mansion with the Baudelaires and Mr. Poe. They were staring dejectedly at everything left.
"Isn't this a fire hazard or something? Like, how come there isn't still smoke lingering around? It hasn't been that long since Count Olaf set the fire to this place! Oh . . . you guys can't hear me. Right. At least I'm not breathing in toxins from this place."
"I've never been through anything like this myself, but I can imagine just how you feel."
"LIKE HELL YOU CAN!"
"I did think you'd want to see the remains of your old home," Mr. Poe said, thinking he sounded helpful (moron), "even though it's . . . more or less . . . "
"It's all gone," Violet finished, sounding especially heartbroken. Of course, the moronic Mr. Poe didn't notice this.
He was actually smiling. "I just want to assure you Baudelaires that you have absolutely nothing . . ."
"We have absolutely nothing," Klaus said, dismayed.
"No! You guys have each other! And you have me! You just don't know it yet! Gods, this is breaking my heart."
". . . to worry about," Mr. Money Bank Man finished.
"LIES! They have an elephant's load worth of things to worry about! I'm just here to help carry the load! Also, what's with the Alden quote? I swear, everytime I hear that quote, I wanna twist that guy's neck at a ninety degree angle."
"What's that?" Sunny babbled.
"I am the executor of your parents' estate, meaning I'll be handling all matters concerning everything they left behind."
". . . EVERYONE PANIC! THERE'S A REASON TO WORRY! Oh wait . . . nobody can hear me. Oh well, I guess they'll all find out soon enough."
"What did they leave behind?"
"Financial security," he answered. "Your parents left behind an enormous fortune, which will be yours when Violet comes of age. Until then, you will be placed with the proper guardian, or guardians, as decided by myself and my fellow bankers."
"Proper guardians my ass! Oops, this is a kids show! Ah, who cares? They'll just censor it anyways."
The Baudelaires were now in Mr. Poe's very small car. "Say goodbye, Baudelaires," he told them.
"Goodbye." Violet was the only one to say it, but all three children were staring dejectedly through the back of the car, where I was standing.
"Goodbye, Baudelaires. Don't worry. You'll see me soon. Sooner than you can imagine."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
𝐀/𝐍: 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 || 𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐄. 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭. 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐧 𝐙 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞.
—𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟖