#bouvard bellerophon
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Pip and Squeak (but fluffier)
(Still bringing my account here up to date - during this "era" of my art I didn't have much free time, so the quality may appear to drop. But I love my Snicket dogs so much that they must go here.)
#all the wrong questions#atwq#pip and squeak#bouvard bellerophon#pecuchet bellerophon#pip#squeak#fanart#book fanart#lemony snicket
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If a person told eight-year-old Bouvard 'Pip' Bellerophon and five-year-old Pecuchet 'Squeak' Bellerophon they’ll become librarians at young ages before the events of The Thistle of the Valley, they’re be asking the person if they want a taxi ride or not. The two brothers assumed that they’ll be driving around as a profession. Squeak more so, since he’s the one working the pedals and thinks himself as being the brother who knows vehicles more.
Upon taking the roles of librarians, Pip and Squeak realize they have no freaking idea what to do. They’re smart and knowledgeable on how a library works, but it’s limited. The interest of Stain’d-by-the-Sea rising after The Thistle of the Valley train wreck brought outsiders though, and the Bellerophon brothers got help from one outsider. The outsider was a teenager who works at an inn, and he came with his uncle and two triplet brothers. Unlike the uncle and other two triplets who toured the city, the teenager spent his time with the Bellerophons, teaching them all he knows of a library and the Dewey Decimal system (and helped revamp the library).
Pip and Squeak thought him as a wonderful teacher. Pip more so, for he’s more interested in books, being the one to read Squeak stories before bedtime (something that their father did, before falling ill and eventually dying, a fact known to two other people in Stain’d-by-the-Sea). When the teenager and his family left, Pip and Squeak ran the library with more ease and proficiency. By the (post) ASOUE period, both brothers are still librarians, and run the Bellerophon Taxi and Mobile Library. Pip is usually the one taking care of the Stain’d-by-the-Sea library, while Squeak drives the taxi and mobile library.
#atwq#all the wrong questions#pip bellerophon#squeak bellerophon#headcanons#moodboard edit#moodboard aesthetic#(shout out to the confusion of these two)#(and their first names)#(anyway. i feel pip is more comfortable running the library proper while squeak is more comfortable driving around)#(pip i feel drove because to him it was necessity for he and pip to survive)#(while squeak too saw it as a necessity grew to love it on his own)
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if we really want, it does feel like it can be argued either way that the brother who spoke first was the brother who “beckoned lemony over” and “sitting on books to reach the steering wheel”, or it can be argued that the brother who spoke first was the one “crouched on the floor” and “looked a little younger”. i would lean towards the latter based on this part alone because he’s the last mentioned. that would mean the one who said “i’m pecuchet bellerophon” is the younger one working the brakes, aka, squeak.
the “in a very high voice” emphasis hints as someone who might be nicknamed “squeak” as well, meaning that squeak is pecuchet, and pip is bouvard.
that is, if we accept the argument that squeak was the one who spoke first.
from this part, “bouvard and pecuchet bellerophon, better known as pip and squeak”, also seems to imply that pip is bouvard and squeak is pecuchet. however, there are …. potentially some ambiguity to this and if someone want it can probably be argued that the reverse would also be grammatically correct.
anyway, that’s what’s in the books
here are the official atwq profile cards for them
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If there exists an international competition for creating the most passive-aggressive, overly long sarcastic quip – this snarky lad would be the longtime defending champion, and it looks like he won’t be dethroned any time soon. The Lilliputian librarian of the Stain’d Library with a sharp enough tongue to give Snicket a run for his money, and the agile driver of the Bellerophon taxi (unfortunately, a magnet for “reckless driving” tickets) – Pip Bellerophon is nonetheless a chummy bibliophile and a good friend.
1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12
#atwq#all the wrong questions#the association au#bouvard bellerophon#pip bellerophon#translation: God he is so sarcastic. he is a librarian and reckless driver
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the associates - an atwq squad mix
requested by @slytherin-mallahan
i. salvadanio skalpel / ii. i dare you shinedown / iii. americanarama hollerado / iv. (eat shit) we did it born ruffians / v. human rag'n'bone man / vi. knocking at the door arkells / vii. we didn’t start the fire billy joel / viii. hold the night lyre le temps
#request#playlist#atwq#lemony snicket#moxie mallahan#ellington feint#pecuchet bellerophon#bouvard bellerophon#kellar haines#ornette lost#mix#music
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Who runs Black Cat Coffee?
Black Cat Coffee, corner of Caravan and Parfait, counts amongst the most emblematic places of “All the Wrong Questions”, showing up in 3 of the 4 books. Yet by the end of the series several questions have yet to be answered:
Why would a café moonlight as a post office?
Why is Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s post delivery so fast?
Why have we never met the postman/waiter who runs the café?
Stay with us after the cut to unravel these mysteries... and others.
On a purely cultural level, Black Cat Coffe’s piano and automatic delivery service might be loosely inspired by the pianocktail, a semi-fictional musical instrument from Boris Vian’s surrealist novel “Froth on the daydream”. The pianocktail mixes a custom cocktail depending on the melodies which are played on it (usually jazz). Daniel Handler is a cocktail enthusiast and allusions to Vian show up in “Why We Broke Up”. Fittingly, the café is also named after 3 Duke Ellington songs: ”Caravan”, “Parfait (A Little Max)” and “Black Cat Blues”, which might also be an allusion to Edgar Allan Poe’s famous story. It’s no wonder Ellington Feint loves the place so much.
Well, it seems like the cultural allusion won’t help us here. Our only hope is to examine the café’s logistics. When did Ellington discover the place? It clearly seems like she’s already used the post office before the start of “All The Wrong Questions”. When Lemony brings her the Bombinating Beast, she knows exactly what to do.
“Is the mail delivery reliable here?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “You should have it by tomorrow morning. Surprisingly, delivery around here is very fast.”
[Who Could That Be At This Hour?, Chapter Seven]
Then again, she has a lot of time on her hand and could just have discovered the secret attic by snooping around. Cleo Knight is also a customer but isn’t aware of the secret attic as far as we know. A violent butcher named Mack and his abused son Drumstick, who show up in “File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents”, know of the attic’s existence. Dashiell Qwerty is also a customer and tries to set up a meeting with Ellington in “Shouldn’t You Be In School”. All in all, not a whole lot of people seem to frequent Black Cat Coffee: Hungry’s restaurant, which essentially functions as a soup kitchen, is the preferred meeting place of Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s residents. This would explain why so many mysteries remain about the place.
A question deserves to be asked: does Hangfire know Black Cat Coffee’s intended purpose? Our money’s on “no”. Ellington uses the attic to hide the Bombinating Beast in “Who Could That Be At This Hour?”, and Inhumane Society doesn’t seize the chance to get it. This is especially embarrassing as samples of Doctor Flammarion’s laudanum also show up in the attic in “Who Could That Be At This Hour?”. So we see that the post office tends to deliver stuff from anyone to anyone, as fast as possible. Whoever runs it has a decently neutral position in the conflict and the place is not monitored by Hangfire.
“Attic,” I said. It was a good place to keep packages. The music from the piano told me there was nothing to worry about, but I climbed the staircase with my belly full of bread and butterflies. I was tired of surprises in strange rooms. But the attic of Black Cat Coffee was just another big room with nobody in it. Along the wall were a few cupboards, and shelves with bags of coffee on them. There was a long table with envelopes and packages stacked in separate piles, as if quite a few people collected their mail at Black Cat Coffee instead of at home. I wondered why. There were not that many packages. There was a small box marked MEDICAL SUPPLIES addressed to a Dr. Flammarion. There was a long tube marked ELECTRICAL EQUIPMENT addressed to nothing more than a pair of initials that were unfamiliar. And then there was a package about the size of a bottle of milk, wrapped in newspaper with a handwriting I recognized immediately. I unwrapped it carefully. It was the Bombinating Beast.
[Who Could That Be At This Hour?, Chapter Ten]
So it’s unlikely that the person who runs the post office is in league with Hangfire. That strikes out people like Nurse Dander, Doctor Flammarion, Sally Murphy, Sharon Haines, etc. So far so good, but who else could it be? No one in Stain’d-by-the-Sea looks like a satisfying candidate.
If this account can be called a mystery, then Black Cat Coffee is a mystery inside a mystery. There were certainly mysterious things in the establishment. The shiny machinery in the center of the room—which produced bread or coffee, depending on which button you pressed—always worked perfectly, but I never saw anyone attending to it. The attic was a place where you could retrieve packages, but I never saw anyone delivering them. The player piano played tunes I couldn’t identify.
But these aren’t what I mean. I don’t care who oiled the machinery of Black Cat Coffee and made sure the bins were full of flour and roasted beans, or who delivered the boxes of books filled with blank pages or gears used in botanical extraction. The music doesn’t matter to me.
[When Did You See Her Last?, Chapter Nine]
Sometimes the only way to solve a mystery is to link it to another unsolved mystery. And when one looks at the numerous plot threads left hanging at the end of “All The Wrong Questions”, it becomes tempting to suspect the Bellerophon brothers.
Hangfire seems to hold a grudge against their family, as his final diatribe attests:
“You fold together a flimsy decoy,” Hangfire said scornfully, “and try to play me like a clarinet, but you’ll collapse when you stand against me. All of you Stain’d citizens are the same. Your mother, Mallahan, was a journalist searching for the truth, but she didn’t have the courage to face what she found. Your parents, Hix, are too scared to come back to town, even to fetch their son. The Knight family drained the sea, and then went down the drain themselves. I could go on and on. The Losts. The Bellerophons. Doctors and actors, nurses and naturalists. Everyone was utterly worthless, and then along came a little girl who could perform all the trickery I needed.”
[Why Is This Night Different From All Other Nights?, Chapter Twelve]
This is a long list of people Hangfire names as his enemies:
The Knights engineered the economic and ecological disaster that motivated the creation of Inhumane Society.
Ornette Lost’s mother tried to revert this disaster through tourism and, as such, threatened the lawless no man’s land Hangfire wanted to create. She’s also theorized to have been a member of V.F.D., Hangfire’s archenemy. So it’s possible that the fire that killed her was actually started by Hangfire.
Moxie’s mother is a journalist sworn to expose the truth, so she’d have to be removed from the town to enable Hangfire’s conspiracy.
However we are missing a motive for the Hix and Bellerophon families:
We have no information on what Jake’s parents did before they left the town, but as they fled they can’t possibly be involved in the shenanigans going on at Black Cat Café.
Pip’s and Squeak’s father is a trickier case because he’s still in town. He’s also an elusive taxi driver who’s always sick for some reason.
But the Bellerophon brothers’ story clashes with another passage:
“I’ve got to get that formula finished,” she said. “It’s a puzzle, but I’ve got to solve it. Invisible ink that actually works could make Ink Inc. a successful company again. We could save this town from all the people who want to destroy us. I’ve got to do it myself. I told my mother and father that, in my note. I love them, but my parents have given up on making things better.”
“So have mine,” Jake said, and the Bellerophon brothers nodded too. Even Moxie nodded in agreement.
[When Did You See Her Last?, Chapter Twelve]
They imply that he “gave up” on trying to make the town better, yet also insist he’s in town. Jake’s parents left, Moxie’s mother left and her father is clearly depressive… But the Bellerophon father is just “sick”. That’s not the same as “giving up”. They’re judging him pretty harshly for something he has no control over. Why do they put him on the same level as other cowardly parents?
We never see Pip’s and Squeak’s father throughout the entire series, which is an enormous red flag. Some readers believe he was actually murdered by Hangfire and that his children are covering up his death. Maybe they don’t want to be put up for adoption, but that’s still pretty drastic. Is it really in their best interest to lie to the authorities? They have no guardians and are forced to work at a very early age. Why not just admit the truth and leave the town?
There’s probably something more complicated going on here. As Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s last taxi driver, he was essentially in charge of its public transport. That’s an interesting position to be in for the survival of the town, but not an essential one in Hangfire’s masterplan. Because he needs to protect his civil identity (Armstrong Feint), he wouldn’t be able to take the taxi very often. For the most part, Hangfire seems content to travel by foot.
Controlling information, on the other hand, is extremely important. A taxi driver would pick up on a lot of stuff throughout his errands. We also know that Hangfire depends on the postman because he needs massive amounts of laudanum to subdue the Knight parents, the patients of the Colophon Clinic and the students of Wade Academy. Lemony even finds one of Flammarion’s shipments of laudanum in the attic of Black Cat Café. Had he destroyed this shipment, Hangfire’s entire masterplan would have had to be delayed. So it would be critical for Hangfire to control the mail delivery of Stain’d-by-the-Sea.
So what if Stain’d-by-the-sea’s taxi driver were actually the elusive postman from Black Cat Café?
There’s a reason no one’s caught the postman yet: he’s been hiding in plain sight. It’s only natural for a taxi to drive through the town, day and night. If the car was actually used to deliver mail, no one would notice. The two professions are actually very similar: one delivers information, the other people.
The theory goes like this: the Bellerophon’s father realized the danger Hanfire represented and decided to minimize his involvement with the mail delivery service. He started simulating a sickness to get out of Inhumane Society’s radar. He didn’t want Hangfire to realize he was the postman. His sons Pip and Squeak eventually found out his secret and took it upon themselves to ensure the mail delivery, as a desperate bid to keep the town alive. They are torn between their sense of civic duty and their loyalty to their father, who prefers to keep a low profile. So they pretend he’s sick as a way to protect him.
Are Pip and Squeak even aware Black Cat Coffee moonlights as a post office? Why, yes they are. Consider this passage:
I lay on the statue and thought, and the world went on without me. Moxie Mallahan was tucked into her bed, and Cleo Knight let herself into Handkerchief Heights, where her scientific equipment waited for her. Jake Hix started cooking up breakfast at Hungry’s, and the Bellerophon brothers put an old-fashioned record player and a huge stack of papers in the attic of Black Cat Coffee.
[When Did They See Her Last?, Chapter Thirteen]
Granted, it’s possible that Lemony just told them about the attic. But this conversation, if it ever happened, is never mentioned in the narration. And this passage describes events that Lemony couldn’t have witnessed by himself anyway (he’s, not unlike ourselves, making hypotheses)
ADDENDUM, 3rd of August 2017:
Hermes from the 667 Dark Avenue message board (Link) pointed out how wrong I was about this. We do hear the conversation:
“In the back of the building is a spiral staircase,” I said. “At the top is a room with a broken window, and somewhere in that room is an old-fashioned record player. It was on a bed stand, but Hangfire hid it right before I came in. Please take it, along with all those papers on the desk, to Black Cat Coffee and put it in the attic. There’s a cupboard there that’s larger than it looks.”
Squeak frowned. “Who wants all that stuff? Another associate of yours?”
[When Did You See Her Last?, Chapter Twelve]
Then again Squeak doesn’t ask Lemony how to get to the attic, which suggests he is at the very least familiar with it. It doesn’t contradict the theory but does make it less likely.
END OF ADDENDUM
So the postman and current manager of Black Cat Coffee would be, for all intents and purposes, Pip and Squeak. Which would at least explain how they manage to get food and shelter, what with their father being so “sick” he can’t work. Running the café would hardly be a hassle. It’s all automated anyway. Going to the attic at night to store and pick up the mail would not take much time, and if they ever got caught, they would pretend being normal customers exploring the attic.
#0514#theory#Lemony Snicket#atwq#all the wrong questions#Bouvard Bellerophon#pecuchet bellerophon#armstrong feint#hangfire#ellington feint#moxie mallahan#cleo knight#dashiell qwerty#ornette lost#prosper lost#vfd#sally murphy#sharon haines
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I saw this post earlier and was immediately reminded of Dashiell Qwerty -- he seems like the kind of guy to let a couple kids marvel over his neat jacket
#all the wrong questions#atwq#asoue#dashiell qwerty#pecuchet bellerophon#bouvard bellerophon#pip and squeak are my sons
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was doing a bit of thinking last night about the bellerophon brothers and i don’t know if anyone else has thought about this or if I’m overthinking, but yeah.
pip and squeak’s real names, pecuchet and bouvard, come from the gustave flaubert novel “bouvard et pécuchet”, an incomplete story printed after his death, just like how pip and squeak haven’t finished growing up yet, but are being forced into the world prematurely due to their father’s sickness.
#asoue#atwq#bellerophon brothers#pip and squeak bellerophon#i just feel a lot about these kids#idk theres no real point to this#but yeahhhh
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asoue/atwq aesthetics (7/?) - Pecuchet "Pip" and Bouvard "Squeak" Bellerophon
It’s hard when you’re missing your family. You wake up every morning like someone took one of your legs.
#snicketedit#atwqedit#all the wrong questions#atwq#pip bellerophon#squeak bellerophon#my stuff#good kids#snicketverse
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Conversation
Bouvart Bellorophon : Hey, Lemony! You should tell Ellington: "Is that a Bombinating Beast in my pocket or am I just happy to see you?"
Lemony Snicket : But there is nothing in my pocket...
Bouvart Bellorophon : No, right, but it'll be funny!
Lemony Snicket : I fail to see the humor in misplaced woodwork apparatus.
Bouvart Bellorophon : It's just a wisecrack, Lemony...
Lemony Snicket : Well, next time, Bouvart... A little more wise, and a little less crack!
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#Bouvard Bellerophon#Lemony Snicket#Pecuchet Bellerophon#Pip and Squeak#all the wrong questions#who could that be at this hour?#my gifs
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atwq handwriting headcanons
Lemony’s handwriting is small, and messier than he’d like it to be
Moxie’s writing is wobbly and uneven. She’s out of practise, as she prefers typing
Ellington’s handwriting is large and loopy. She ends her sentences with a small flourish
Pip’s writing is large and blocky, and he only writes in capital letters. Squeak’s is even larger than his brother’s and much more scribbly. He tends to scratch out mistakes rather than erase them
Jake’s writing is big and slants to the left
Cleo’s writing is small and very scribbly. It’s very hard to read
Kellar writes in small, perfect cursive. He doesn’t use it often, as he also prefers typing
Ornette also writes in cursive, though it’s larger and slightly more flowery than Kellar’s
#atwq#lemony snicket#moxie mallahan#ellington feint#pip bellerophon#squeak bellerophon#pecuchet bellerophon#bouvard bellerophon#jake hix#cleo knight#kellar haines#ornette lost#all the wrong questions#who could that be at this hour#when did you see her last?#shouldn't you be in school?#why is this night different from all other nights
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If Lemony is the Cab Driver, is it possible that he's driving Pip and Squeak's cab?
It always breaks my heart when I have to criticize someone else’s headcanon. Fortunately, that’s not the case here, @sandforsmostwanted. No particular arguments for or against this theory, these two taxis aren’t described in very much detail, so…
#0462#ask#Lemony Snicket#ASoUE#a series of unfortunate events#atwq#all the wrong questions#pécuchet bellerophon#bouvard bellerophon#taxi driver
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Heck I DO wanna know more! I'm super interested in thia fic 👀
OK I am SUPER happy receiving this ask, but alas all I can offer is a lot of excerpts,, more under the cut
When Jacques arrives at Stain'd, he finds the records to be VERY accurate: it's a deadzone. That would likely explain the weird look the conductor gave him when he requested to get off. There's no longer anybody here
Back then there must have been some, perhaps, in order to enact Lem's apprenticeship. But he still regards the situation with an air of apprehension. Large chunk of reports were missing, reports that were leading up to his disappearance. It could be that VFD hid it, of course, but intentional or not, its denominator remains the same: something monumentally terrible occured for that to happen.
And he will have to walk straight to it. Or at least, its aftermath.
The rattle of the train leaving startles him, and he shakes off his nerves. He wants so badly to get back on the train, jump on the railings perhaps but the rear has gotten quite a distance away. He's already alone.
(Oh God I just realized I have no idea what people do after they get off trains. Should there be like people taking ur tickets or something?? Ive been on a train only once and that was super long ago)
The Stain'd Station was utterly deprived of life. Everything was cracked and looked in the danger of falling apart. Litter and dirt was strewn all around. There was no place that Jacques just wanted more to bail out of immediately (except, perhaps, that one wasp-infested area but that is besides the point). It unnerves him, to listen to the echoes of his footsteps in the abandoned station, with its business nothing more than a ghost of its past. It rattles him more than the rattle of train wheels on the tracks. But he trudges on, hoping to find some clue.
Out on the street was no better. All buildings were boarded up, some windows smashed. Brown grass was growing out of the sidewalks. There was few vehicles on the side of the road: a brown rusty one with its hood popped up and its insides gone, a yellow cab so terribly dented, and a black one with its paint job scratched and all four of its tires missing. It was a miserable place, not fit for any human life, much less an apprenticeship. He grimaces in dismay. This is where they dumped his brother? Even as a containment procedure, it was a bit much. No person should be in this place.
But that wasn't the most pressing issue. The most pressing issue is where to start. He does not have the faintest idea where he is in this desolate town, much less where his brother stayed for the duration in the past — except for the address of The Lost Arms. But that information was useless without a map, and every other map he scoured to know about the town has vehemently insisted that Stain'd-By-The-Sea does not exist. Whether VFD has already tampered with those maps, he can not tell.
He had hoped there may be a clue in there, some forgotten item, a thing accidentally left behind. But with no map, his best course of action is to simply search every establishment and hope for serendipity. Not all of the best things are necessarily good things.
He hears a rumble of an engine.
His gaze snaps upwards, puzzled if whether or not he had imagined it. Then he can see the yellow dented cab making its way towards him at a snail's pace. Jacques's heart stops, and gripped his suitcase until his knuckles turned white. It was a trusty little suitcase, filled with tools and files that are of great use of him, but he's not so sure if it were of any use against a damned ghost cab. If it were really a ghost. If Kit was here, she would've scoffed at him. But he's not really feeling up to an argument, not when his feet was stuck to the pavement, body frozen into place. He stares, heart pounding like there was no tomorrow as the taxi pulls up to its side, exactly right in front of him, and stops.
But then the window rolls down, and Jacques felt very, very foolish, but immensely relieved, as it reveals a worn and much younger face of a boy with a busted blue cap.
"Well, hello there friend," he says, with a voice just as tired. "Another visitor was the last thing we expected, but —" he gives a small shrug, "— here we are. Need a taxi?"
It took him a moment to realize how stupid he looked with his mouth gaping open. "I-I'm sorry," Jacques stammered, once he found his voice. "We?"
Another younger face pops up from below the young driver, and Jacques nearly jumps in surprise. "That would be us, the Bellerophon brothers," he reveals with a squeaky but cracked voice. "I'm Pecuchet, and this—" he points upward, and his brother tipped his hat at him, " — is Bouvard, but that makes people's tongue tired, so you can call him Pip, and me, Squeak."
The driver known as "Pip" frowned. "Are you alright though? You've looked like you've seen a ghost."
His eyes fluttered. "Er — Yes, yes, I... I am afraid I also didn't expect anyone to come here either." He tips his white hat at them in turn. "Greetings to you, I am Ja— James Moore."
Internally, he cringed. It was a sloppy pseudonym, but he can't risk revealing who he is in the potential situation VFD managed to track his trail, they wouldn't be able to hold incriminating evidence against him. Curiously, it didn't arouse much suspicion from the odd duo, except for a slight tilt of the head.
"Well, nice to meet you Mr. Moore. Do you need a ride anywhere?"
Jacques is not quite sure what to think of climbing into a cab with kids of odd names in an abandoned town. However, his relief in discovering that there is fellow life, inexplicable as it is, and a likelier possibility of gaining information triumphed over whatever reservations he had at the moment. In the pursuit of his search, with its very nonexistent lead, he'd take anything.
"I'd like to go to the Lost Arms please."
"Sure," Pip reached out behind him and opened the door. "Hop in."
He pauses, and then climbs in and closes it shut, and soon enough, the two brothers drive away from the Station with startlingly expert hands on both wheel and brakes. Jacques is fairly impressed at their coordination.
"Say," Pip starts, once they got a quite the distance away. "Apologies if it sounds prying, friend, but out of curiosity, what business does a stranger have with Stain'd-By-The-Sea?"
That shook him out of his stupor. Idiotically, he hasn't prepared for that, he was ascertain there won't be anyone here, he even got business cards and all but it's not in his suitcase (which he wants to smack himself on). His mind blanks for a moment, but he manages to scramble an answer that isn’t necessarily a lie nor a truth. "I am private investigator hired to search for someone last seen in this town."
Pip looked at him through the rearview mirror, which was a bit dirty and cracked. "Oh? That certainly does explain why someone wants to be in this town."
Jacques didn't bother to clarify he does NOT want to be here at all, but he nods his head instead.
He expertly steered the wheel. "You wouldn't happen to be allowed the details no? Sorry, but interesting things have rarely happened here since..."
"I'm afraid not, no," Jacques blinks. That felt off. "Speaking of visitors, you haven't happened to have driven someone around lately no?"
"Until you came along? Not one for the past year. No outsiders at the very least."
He deflates a little, but he's unsurprised. So he really wasn't here recently. He was about ask more, when the taxi came to a stop in front of a shabby and derelict building he would presume to be the Lost Arms.
Once again, Pip reached out to open the door for him. "Here we are then, Mr. Moore."
"Thank you," he says, retrieving his wallet. "How much is the fare?"
Pip blinked in surprise. Then his eyes flickered towards the wallet, and his eyes widened further. "Huh, I never expected a paying customer today either."
It puzzles him so much that he tilts his head. Did they just let him ride as a charity? "Well, it's only natural to pay for a service, no?"
He just shrugged. "It's alright. Keep the money, it's not gonna be much use anyways, with the state of the town. You may wanna give that to the proprietor though —" he nods to the building, "— Prosper Lost."
"Well, I shan't dare to think of leaving this taxi without giving something in return," Jacques insisted.
"How about a tip then?"
"A tip?" he frowns. "A tip what?"
"Anything really, s'long as its useful."
That got him thinking. He thought of giving them a tip of accepting money when they get it and leave this terrifying place, but decided against. He then looks up.
"Here's a tip, there's this book that..." he trails off, feeling a painful lump form in his throat. "That my associate enjoys. Champion of the World, heard of it?"
~
Ellington feels the bitter sweetness on her tongue. The air was damp and cold after the shower, having ceased into droplets. Everything reminded her the cool greens and blues of a watercolor painting. At the distance, the light of the morning sun peaks through. She's glad she's getting some pieces of her back, but some of the damage will be permanent, and some things are just lost forever. Seeing the Association and strangers and natives to Killdeer fields all work together to set things right was amazing, but also drove home on the tragedy of Armstrong Feint, whose pursuit of vengeance blinded him, destroyed himself and set back hopes of recovery for years. The pain he inflicted was an unnecessary cruelty, that if he had bothered to spare, even the tinniest bit of mercy and offered his help, he would've witnessed the return of the sea and the recovery of the environment, and they could've been together.
But he had made a decision. All of their parents did — the Mallahans, the Hixes, the Knights, the Bellerophons, the Losts. What's done is done.
She remembers a line that her father read her once, many years ago. It was the book where Snicket claimed a wizard was not so very helpful, and that her father loved because of its elaborate descriptions of trees. Many elaborate description of trees.
"'I wish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo." Ellington murmurs to herself.
"'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'"
She stares at the sky.
~
But there was a knock at the door
They both froze. Moxie is still on the phone — with who, Kellar didn't hear.
It could be anyone, Kellar thought, perhaps some coworkers who forgot their stuff, or has the intention to work overtime. It may even be some neighbor, asking for help or providing assistance. It could even be a fellow Associate. There's no reason really, to think there could be enemies on the other side.
But he walked anyway. His breathing far too loud and uneven, yet his pace cautious and fearful. He calls out, "Who's there?"
No answer.
"I'm warning you," he says slowly, attempting to keep the tremble out of his voice, "that I'm armed."
Silence. It's a blatant lie of course, but no matter how he strained his ears, he still can't hear anyone walking away. They’re not fooled.
He motions to Moxie to get ready to run. A few seconds, he could buy that. Enough seconds to scramble whatever data they need and bolt like hell. Kellar doesn't see if she saw it.
The door is inches away from him now. His heart pounded in his chest. His hands carefully placed on the dark wood, and he looked into the peephole.
Kellar had barely moved his head in time just to dodge the blast shot that would've blown away bits of his brain, but had blown off half of his right ear instead.
He screamed, it hurt, hurt worse than anything he'd known and he's sure he's lost his hearing there, but he let the wound bleed and instead ducked and braced himself against the door to keep them from opening it. "Moxie run!"
~
"Look at him. Look. At. Him." Pip hissed, and Squeak looked at them with an air of innocence. "You think that's an angel?? A beacon of innocence?? Wrong. That's bastard incarnate. The single source of maliciousness on this earthly realm. Look. Look how evil he looks. He's a little prick."
~
"Frankly, I'd love to have a sibling," Cleo said.
Kellar looked at her as if she said something deranged and jabs a thumb towards Lizzie. "No, you don't. I love my sister, but you think she won't sell me off to the circus first chance she gets?" He shook his head. "Think again."
~
"Dibs."
"What the—" Moxie then scowled. "That was too fast."
Snicket just shrugged. "I have two older siblings, Moxie. The true nature of siblings... Is natural selection."
"Are you certain you should be using big boy words like that?" Ellington asked, bemused. "I'm fairly certain you can't even differentiate a crocodile and an alligator."
~
"If I may introduce you to my family," Jacques says.
He points to Kit emerging from his side. "— Parasite number one—".
And he points to Snicket as he emerges from the other. "— and Parasite number two."
~
"Alright, does anyone have any questions?" Jacques asks tiredly.
They all raise their hands.
"That isn’t sarcastic," he snaps.
They all lowered their hands, disappointed.
Jacques sighs. "Lizzie, you've got the stage."
~
"Just what time is it?" Ellington inquires, exhausted.
"Hang on," Kit smiled, and instead of whipping out a clock, she instead produces a clarinet. She took a deep breath, and blew. Before she could even make it to the second note, they look up at the ceiling— startled— suddenly hearing a very muffled but very clear yell from Jacques, Kit, are you seriously playing the clarinet at 2 IN THE DAMN MORNING.
They look down. Kit still has a devilish smile plastered.
"It's 2 am," she announces.
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ATWQ Character Aesthetics
4/8: Bouvard and Pecuchet Bellerophon
“It’s hard when you’re missing your family,” Pip said, and started up the motor. “You wake up every morning like someone took one of your legs. All right, Snicket. We’ll take you. But I hope you have a big tip ready.”
#ish's character aesthetics#atwq#pip bellerophon#squeak bellerophon#aesthetic#character aesthetic#character aesthetics#all the wrong questions#lemony snicket#who could that be at this hour#when did you see her last?#shouldn't you be in school?#why is this night different from all other nights#lemony snicket's atwq#lemony snicket's all the wrong questions#daniel handler#a queue which here means
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