#brotp: midnight beatrice conversations

[beatricebidelaire]

for day 5 of woevember of @asouefanworkevent, the masked ball

the masked ball is not a VFD event. rather, it's an old tradition of the duchess's family, passed down from one generation of the duchess to the next, like the ring with the letter R engraved upon it.

the most recent R, Duchess of Winnipeg, is a volunteer of the VFD, but her mother, the previous R, and her mother, also R, are not. (see: the end). so, naturally, duchess R (the most recent one)'s friends and associates from VFD are often invited to the masked ball, and the VFD volunteers have sometimes used the masked ball as a way of communicating with other volunteers.

however, one would be mistaken if one thinks that no VFD members have ever attended the masked balls held by R's mother, or grandmother, or great-grandmother, and so on. like R's family, and her family ring, VFD has been around for a long time. the Duchess's masked ball has always been quite popular event amongst the high society, and oftentimes influential people would attend, and previous generations of VFD members have also sometimes attended the ball for various different purposes, even if the Duchess at that time is not a VFD volunteer

R continues to hold the masked ball regularly, even amidst the schism, even if sometimes enemies of the volunteers also managed to sneak into the ball for nefarious purposes. it's an event that people who's on the lam or rumored to be dead may show up, since everyone's in masks with a proper reason. it's a time when old associates can meet.

in some way, it signifies hope - the hope of being able to meet an associate you have not been able to contact for sometime, the hope of the chance to confirm that a family member is safe and sound

year after year, as various members of VFD and its enemies meet their demise, fewer and fewer associates and enemies of R's show up at the masked ball each time. some of them she knows for a fact are confirmed dead - M for one. and G. and also G - not that it's ever quite clear whether she stood on the schism.

R continues hosting the masked ball, if she's able to at that time. L appears less and less frequently, but despite various "confirmations" of his death, he's possibly the one who's most likely to still be alive, since all those so-called confirmations are flimsy at best, featuring blurry pictures that could've been anybody in a hat.

sometimes she knows that L has showed up and left before they had a chance to talk, and she knows this because she would find little messages from him that he's left behind. an encrypted code on a little note hidden under the accordion, for instance, that can only be decoded if one is well-versed in poetry

when L's brother J first fell out of contact, and soon it's been said that nobody has been able to reach him, at first R thought he's just gone on the run like L did. perhaps planning to fake his death. she had hoped he would show up at her ball sometime soon - but he never did. instead, the daily punctilio featuring the death of olaf at some faraway village with the picture of J brought the worst news.

and then came the fire of hotel denouement, and also K who lost contact after that. barely any of R's associates or enemies show up for a long time, after that.

until one day L appears again - not at a masked ball, but just one a normal day - with his niece. kit and dewey's daughter, beatrice.

the little girl made a lot of efforts to find and reunite her family - including the children of beatrice and bertrand that R's heard so much about but have never met, and lemony, and dewey's triplets.

having old friends again at the next masked ball gives her a certain ache of nostalgia, but she's also so very glad to be able to see them again, after all these years, and away from their VFD identities that's bound them tight when they were younger. she's also so delighted to meet the kids - although maybe violet and klaus can hardly be called kids, now. they're older than when R and her friends had been getting drunk at the masked ball, decades ago.

everyone dress up for the masked ball. beatrice and sunny have never attended such a formal event and the girls are very thrilled. beatrice tells R that violet has taught her how to draw fake scars as R finds a costume for her, and R gets reminded of beatrice - the other beatrice, the first beatrice, whom violet must've learned the skill from.

sunny wears a pair of butterfly wings that once belonged to her mother. frank tells the story of how beatrice and kit used to pull the trick where beatrice wears the fancy wings and distract everyone's attention and kit uses the chance to do something discreetly as everyone's attention is focused on beatrice. sunny and beatrice listen attentively in wonder.

beatrice asks if her father attended the masked ball too - she's learned that his existence is mostly a secret, but considering that at a masked ball everyone can put on a mask, maybe this is his chance?

R confirms that dewey does indeed attend the masked balls sometimes. and that he and bertrand always manage to find each other, no matter what kind of masks they have on. "the elephant poem," sunny says, remembering what dewey has told her and her siblings.

"exactly," ernest says. "i've actually tried to pretend to be dewey once by reciting the poem to him. but B soon recognized me."

r: "were you actually surprised?" ernest, fondly nostalgic: "i guess not. he was always able to tell us apart."

[beatricebidelaire]

this is still so funny dhdjjsjsjdjdj the ring and also lemony losing at card games

[beatricebidelaire]

im thinking about how r signed off her letter to lemony with “with all due respect” plus her R winnipeg stamp , but in her note to kit it’s just the stamp (and also she addressed lemony as mr snicket but kit as K, although that might just be because lemony doesn’t like to be called L, because sally sebald also addressed him as mr snicket, but she signed off with “yours, sally” which i don’t feel as formal), like, the letter to lemony is formal in comparison.

and it’s not like lemony and R weren’t close - we get to see more bits about their friendship outside of this letter as well, like the mentioning of them playing cards and r winning lemony’s pen collection. so we know they’re friends. considering this letter was suspected to be forged or written under threat because of misremembering of her jeep, i wonder if the formality was also intentional, like the jeep. both were her hints to lemony showing how she was forced to write this letter - maybe she usually wasn’t a formal person and her being formal was just another hint

jacques signed off both his letters - to his brother and to his friend - with “with all due respect, jacques” / “with all due respect, jacques snicket” (note that jerome signed “your pal, jerome” in contrast) so i think that’s just who jacques was as a person. part of his personality. but r wasn’t jacques and she had other letters written differently and not as formal and we knew she and L were friends. so r being formal in her letter was possibly her hint to lemony she’s being threatened to write the letter, meanwhile jacques was just like that (lemony also seemed to always sign like that. whether he’s copying jacques or not that’s another similarity between them)

[beatricebidelaire]

*thinks about how r gave lemony the ring to marry beatrice and then later kit gave bertrand the same ring to marry beatrice* 

[beatricebidelaire]

Jacques Snicket to Lemony Snicket  //  R, the Duchess of Winnipeg to Lemony Snicket

[beatricebidelaire]

“I told Gustav we’re dating,” Sally announced as she entered the large ballroom where the masked ball would be taking place tonight, the room was largely empty right now with half-finished decorations, and two friends busy with putting the rest of the decorations up. “Oh, not you, Snicket.”

“That’s probably a smart move, as I already am dating someone else and he knows about that,” Lemony nodded solemnly.

Sally easily dropped down to a chair, “Exactly.” She smiled up at R, “Not too much trouble, I hope?”

R blinked. “No troubles,” she said, after a beat. “Though I do wonder how you decided to tell him that.”

“I’m creating excuses for him to spend some time alone with Monty before the ball, and then I said I would come and help you with the decorations since we’re dating. I also invented a backstory for us, of how we had our first kiss last month when we all went camping and we were searching for fruits on the trail in dark night and one thing led to another,” she explained, matter of fact.

R was amazed at how the story was partly true. At least, the camping had happened and so did the fruit search and so did R pulling Sally back up after she fell. Perhaps it was the movie director talents, Sally always came up with movie plots fast and easy, based on things she’d been through or stories she heard. She’s creative like that, much like Beatrice.

“Sounds like a lovely story,” R said, indulgent and amused. She half-wished that was what had actually happened, now. She ignored Lemony’s thoughtful stare, “Come help me with this tree, Snicket.”

[beatricebidelaire]

network of loyal members 

[beatricebidelaire]

if R called Lemony “Mr. Snicket” i wonder if she called Jacques “Mr. Snicket” too or did she make a distinction and if so what’s the distinction, and also R and Jacques and Lemony (and Geraldine too) all worked at Daily Punctilio at the same time, when they were all in the office did she said “Mr. Snicket” and they both looked up from their typewriter

on a somewhat related note, R’s letter to Kit called her “K” and signed as “R” which was very informal compared to all the other letters in the unauthorized autobiography and it might be just because it’s more of a note and different in natures or it might be because fear of being intercepted and wanted to not reveal too much information, but it’s different from the rest of the letters so it’s really kind of interesting in a way. like on some level they were definitely pretty close and how they interacted wasn’t much explored but i think they’re. quite interesting. whether as just friends or fake dating. like. they’re interesting.

[beatricebidelaire]

absolutely am still thinking about jacques’ “O Brother” and r’s “O Mr. Snicket”

[beatricebidelaire]

The tension was palpable at first.

After all, they might be a group of people with certain shared history, it hadn’t meant they’d always gotten along in the past without fail, R thought. She surveyed the room quickly. There’s herself, a volunteer. Her best friend who faked his death years ago, an ex-volunteer. His sister’s ex girlfriend who, as R remembered, eventually didn’t work out with the said sister because of differing opinions on vfd. And then her current girlfriend, a journalist whom R had heard mentioned a few times by different people, but this was the first time R actually met her. R heard she’d once been close with Lemony, years and years ago, until what might’ve been called “the train incident.”

And then there’s the girl, who looked barely into her teenage years. The reason R suspected why everyone’s staying civil for the moment.

R decided to make an effort to break the tension first. “Does anyone want to play a card game?”

Everyone turned to her. The teenage girl asked curiously, “which game?” Lemony frowned, “Ramona —”

“Yes, let’s,” the journalist interrupted, a hint of a smile on her lips as she stole a sly glance at L.

Lemony’s frown grew even deeper.

“What card game would you like to play, Beatrice?” Ellington turned to the girl with a smile.

Lemony sighed.

[beatricebidelaire]

god i truly think about sally knowing lemony was alive like all the time. why did she know how did she know did r tell her were she and r dating or were they just both pining after beatrice and were rivals about everything were these even mutually exclusive no they’re not!

were sally and r dating? did they have card game sessions with lemony and he always lost? did they double date with gustav and monty? were r and gustav in-laws? did they film any gustav sebald production films in r’s family home in winnipeg? did sally write love letters with various different codes and did r enjoy deciphering them? did they talk about losing gustav and monty ?

[beatricebidelaire]

One of my most prized possessions is a small wooden box with a special lock on it that is more than five hundred years old and works according to a secret code that my grandfather taught me. My grandfather learned it from his grandfather, and his grandfather learned it from his grandfather, and I would teach it to my grandchild if I thought that I would ever have a family of my own instead of living out the remainder of my days all alone in this world. The small wooden box is one of my most prized possessions, because when the lock is opened according to the code, a small silver key may be found inside, and this key fits the lock on one of my other most prized possessions, which is a slightly larger wooden box given to me by a woman whom my grandfather always refused to speak about.

-- The Ersatz Elevator

“This ring,” he said, “once belonged to the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, who was also the Duchess of Winnipeg, who gave it to her daughter, and so on and so on and so on. Eventually, the last Duchess of Winnipeg joined V.F.D., and gave it to Kit Snicket's brother. He gave it to your mother. For reasons I still don't understand, she gave it back to him, and he gave it to Kit, and Kit gave it to your father, who gave it to your mother when they were married. She kept it locked in a wooden box that could only be opened by a key that was kept in a wooden box that could only be opened by a code that Kit Snicket learned from her grandfather. The wooden box turned to ashes in the fire that destroyed the Baudelaire mansion, and Captain Widdershins found the ring in the wreckage only to lose it in a storm at sea, which eventually washed it onto our shores.”

-- The End

(highlights mine)

thinking about kit and lemony’s grandfather teaching them (and probably jacques also) the secret code to unlock the wooden box ....

and how he probably taught it to bea jr too

(on the other hand, how accurate are lemony’s memories of his grandfather .... hmmm)

oh also

r giving lemony the ring to propose to beatrice and then kit later giving bertrand the (same) ring to propose to beatrice ..... i love brotp parallels

i imagine r giving lemony the ring mostly like how flavia drew them in fragmentary plots and i imagine kit giving the ring to bertrand scene going somewhat. differently.

because at first he probably thought it was too soon and (if considering lemonberry ice) he felt guilty about doing this without lemony and he wasn’t sure he (and beatrice) actually deserved happiness together and he was kind of postponing it thinking they weren’t ready etc. so while he knew what kit was trying to get at when she showed him the ring he at first just pretended he didn’t know and go like

“the taxi crashed and you want to pawn this to get money to fix it?”

k, narrowing her eyes, “are you implying i couldn’t fix the taxi myself?”

b, immediately, “it’s beyond repair and you need to get a new one?”

k: “ok that’s better.” (somewhere, jacques: “that is NOT better”)

beat of silence

b: “kit, i don’t know.”

deep conversation ensues and then she eventually convinced him to take it “you don’t have to do it tomorrow, or even next week. but it’s you could prepare first, then once you’re ready ...”

[beatricebidelaire]

friendship aesthetics

beatrice and olaf: competing over lead role in a play, pretending to fall asleep when the other person was on stage and immediately opening eyes again when the other person’s part ended, wearing extremely elaborate costumes to a masked ball when everyone else just had a mask and dress or suits on, running in corridors of vfd headquarters especially when there’s a “no running” sign, drawing on their chaperone’s face when the chaperone’s asleep, first to know about the other person’s crush, goldberg machines, naming things such as abandoned wooden boat found on briny beach after themselves, giving each other unsolicited love advice about snickets, enthusiastically trying out every kind of new food, giggling over certain words in this be the verse without fully understanding the meaning until they finally did but were no longer friends

kit and bertrand: playing multiple long term bingo games at a time with each of the bingo boards having a different theme (and both have a commonplace book neatly documenting every bingo game), competing over who could do the prime factorization of a large number faster when bored or anxious and needed something to distract them to calm down, eating chinese takeaway in the snicket taxi, drinking tea and doing crossword puzzles and exchanging opinions about things and people they wouldn’t share with most others on sunday afternoons, playing bridge at hotel denouement, shopping for things needed in the backup plan of a backup plan late at night when should be sleeping, saying maybe they should quit coffee and only drink tea all while drinking another cup of coffee, making analysis charts while watching/reading murder mysteries, pretending to be interested in sports in front of beatrice, the ability to tie hair up with ribbon or pencil quickly without a comb, constantly acutely aware of the guilt they’re carrying, continuing on what they thought they had to do regardless the guilt

r and lemony: betting pen collections over card games, slow dancing together while talking about beatrice, long conversations about classical music, stargazing on the beach, always buying hats they saw and thought the other person would like and then giving it to the other person as gift, making different types of desserts together and researching on obscure dessert recipes, root beer floats with literature debates, watching the sunset from a large garden, the sound of typewriter mixed with the sound of rain, scattered accordion music sheets mixed with letters filled with secret codes, flipping through photo albums from years ago and missing the friends from the photos who were now dead

[beatricebidelaire]

sugarbowl generation dynamics - R, the Duchess of Winnipeg & Lemony Snicket, the masked ball hostess and the writer on the run

O Mr. Snicket, everything you kept in my home is gone. Your bullfighting costume is gone, along with all of the other disguises you kept with me: the fake wooden leg, the box of wigs, and that strange suit that enabled you to look like a chest of drawers. Your typewriter is gone, and the bright blue accordion, which I believe you told me was your third favorite. Everything in that guest room is gone, and all the things in the guest room next door. Beatrice, of course, is far past complaining about lost possessions - the very reason, I am certain, that you have dedicated your life to searching the lives of those three poor children.

Are they gone too? It seems everything is nowadays.

[beatricebidelaire]

can’t take my eyes off you

pairing: R, the Duchess of Winnipeg / Moxie Mallahan

also: implied/background lemonberry ice and jsjs

setting: pre-asoue, very specifically set in the time where L&R&J all worked at the Daily Punctilio

word count: ~1.5k

alt: ao3

R wasn’t jealous of Moxie Mallahan, she thought. She hoped.

Although a part of her was starting to worry she might be.

Moxie had been there with Lemony, for Lemony, during his apprenticeship and they’d gone through certain life changing events together and after that Lemony was never the same. Not the same boy who she’d first met in the infirmary, sharing stories with each other to distract themselves from the pain on their ankles. Not the same boy who constantly had some smart argument to make, never-endingly voicing his questions, never-endingly ready to charge into something headfirst, never-endingly get-scared-later.

He was scared now. From what R had been able to piece together, the events L was so tightlipped about and only revealing small pieces one at a time about what exactly happened, he’d charged headfirst onto a moving train and everything had gone downhill from there. Or had been going downhill since earlier, she wasn’t sure.

She hadn’t been there.

He was quieter now, far more cautious and brooding, although his face still managed a warm smile - albeit one with a dash of melancholy - when he saw her every time. “Your Grace,” he would say, holding her hand to his lips and placing a kiss like a gentleman. His face still lit up whenever he saw Beatrice and Bertrand - there would be a certain cautiousness, a hint of worry somewhere - but R could see he would also be happier, too, when he was with them.

And it wasn’t like R thought Lemony couldn’t have other friends than her, of course he could. And it wasn’t just that she felt inadequate and guilty that she hadn’t been able to help him, to be there for him during one of the hardest moments in his life - or, on second thought, maybe she did feel that way a little. Then again, she was here for him now. It wasn’t the same as being there then, but she’s doing her best now.

The thing was, she did like Moxie too. Liked her a lot, admired her dedication to truth, appreciated her loyalty to L and her willingness to help him. R liked Moxie. Which just made the whole situation even more confusing because if she did like Moxie, then she couldn’t explain the odd, slightly nervous and tense feeling in her stomach, like butterflies flying inside her, with the most obvious explanation that she was simply jealous of someone else also being L’s good friend.

Then she couldn’t explain how her eyes were always landing on Moxie as she and L chatted while typing up things in their respective typewriters in the small, cramped office of Daily Punctilio. Couldn’t explain away how listening to Moxie talked in that sharp, straightforward, clever way of hers in that cool, brisk tone of hers just made R feel - something. She wished she knew what the something was. She really, really wished.

Moxie Mallahan, short yet strong and could climb up a tall cabinet and grabbed a heavy looking typewriter and easily slide down again as if was the simplest thing in the world. Moxie Mallahan, petite looking but ran fast and could chase villains she were investigating who were escaping on a bike. Moxie Mallahan, who always grinned sharply saying “You don’t lug around a typewriter for years without getting a few muscles.” Moxie Mallahan, clever and good at arguments and muscular and R didn’t know when it started but she couldn’t take her eyes off her. It’s - frustrating. Was she really that jealous of Moxie’s friendship with L that she had to keep her eyes on her the whole time? Could she really not let L have other friends - R had thought better of herself.

She’d hoped she was better than that.

She was drinking tea with Jacques and discussing their boss Eleanora Poe’s certain new office rules, when Jacques mentioned something about Moxie getting into an argument with Miss Poe last week.  Jacques’ voice faded into background and R thought about Moxie again. Moxie Mallahan, clever and good at arguments and muscular, like a less dramatic version of Beatrice with blonde curly pixie cut, she thought.

R realized she must’ve said that out loud when Jacques looked at her, his face quietly amused in that very Jacques-specific way, as he said, “Less dramatic version of Beatrice with blonde curly pixie cut?” He repeated, his unibrow raised and his mouth curving up just slightly.

“Less dramatic version of Beatrice with blonde curly pixie cut?” Bertrand, who’d somehow chosen this moment to enter the room from R’s kitchen placed a plate of cookies on the table, echoed. “Who, me?”

Jacques looked at him, and drawled out, long-sufferingly, “That’s not a pixie cut, Bertrand. And not exactly curly, by the way.”

Bertrand chuckled, sitting down at the empty seat. “If the Daily Punctilio’s fashion editor says so.”

Jacques rolled his eyes, and snatched a cookie from the plate. “We’re talking about Miss Mallahan.”

“Oh?” Bertrand asked, turning to R to look at her with a speculating expression. It was a little like Beatrice’s speculating expression, R realized. Those two had been subtly influencing each other in regards to this ever since the two of them and L had gotten together.

“I’m just - ” R began. “I’m just worried - confused - that I might be jealous of she and L’s friendship? I know that’s not rational and I don’t even know if that’s exactly the case, but. I don’t know.”

Jacques frowned, “She’s not VFD, though. She’s ... peripherally involved, but she’s not VFD. It’ll never be the same as two volunteers.”

“For a moment, I thought you were talking about Jerome again,” Bertrand commented, taking a sip of his tea.

“I’m not - and what do you mean by again?” Jacques chucked a cookie at Bertrand. “As if I talk about him a lot, or ever.”  The cookie missed, and continuing flying and finally landing on top one of R’s antique vases, almost falling into it - probably would have if it’d landed more to the right. Thankfully it didn’t fall into the vase, R thought.

The door flung open, and Beatrice danced in. “Jerome? What’s he done to Jacques now?” She surveyed the room quickly, and headed towards the vase to pick up the cookie, putting it in her mouth. “Did Jacques finally make a move? About time, I would say.” She skidded towards them, and sat herself down on Bertrand’s thighs, ignoring the empty chair beside him.

“Did I what?” Jacques asked, incredulous. He looked at R and then Bertrand accusingly. “What have you been telling her? Nevermind, we’re just talking about R saying Miss Mallahan’s like a less dramatic version of you with blonde curly pixie cut -”

“Jacques!” R protested, not having expected him to tell that to Beatrice, of all people. Beatrice just looked curious, her eyes wide as she tilted her head at R.

“ - and also how Bertrand thought his hair was a type of curly pixie cut -”

“Oi - ” Bertrand interjected, sounding mildly affronted.

“Yeah, he’s not really knowledgeable about hairstyles,” Beatrice agreed.

“I’m right here,” Bertrand said.

“I know,” Beatrice grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “But your hair does look great.” She assured him. “Anyway, as much as I would like to know what happened between Jacques and Jerome -”

“Nothing happened,” Jacques grumbled, with the voice of someone who sounded like they wished something had happened.

“I’m afraid Bertrand and I need to leave, Lemony’s waiting for us. We could catch up with the gossip another time.” She winked at R. “And say hello to Miss Mallahan for me.”

For some unexplainable reason that R couldn’t even begin to fathom herself, she blushed furiously. Beatrice and Bertrand had annoyingly matching knowing expressions on their faces, and Jacques slowly, slowly took a long sip of his tea.

Beatrice and Bertrand left, and the room fell silent for a moment. Finally, R sighed.

“I’m not jealous of her, am I?” She said, realization dawning on her.

“No, you’re not.” Jacques agreed.

“She’s not VFD though, is she?”

“No, he isn - I mean,” he corrected himself just in time. “She isn’t.” Jacques hesitated. “But she and L are friends and her not being in VFD didn’t stop their friendship, so why should you let that stop you from pursuing what you want?”

R looked at him. “Do you let that stop you from asking Jerome out?”

His long silence was a too telling answer. But then, he drew a deep breath and said, “You know what? Let’s - take them out to - an afternoon tea or something. Us four. How’s that sound? Simple. Easy. Tea. And we’ll see how it goes from there.”

They were in the office alone, and R took steadied herself, counting to 13 inside her head, before finally mustering up the courage to speak. “Miss Mallahan?”

Moxie raised her head from the typewriter, grinning easily at R, her dark gray eyes the color of a storm that R would gladly let it take sweep her off her feet. “Yeah?”

“Jacques has this friend Jerome, and they’re going to this new restaurant in the city for an afternoon tea and happened to reserve a four-people table, and he asked me, and I’m wondering if you’d like to join us?”

[beatricebidelaire]

sugar bowl generation non-romantic relationships (1/6) - R, The Duchess of Winnipeg & Lemony Snicket

It seems to me, my dear friend, that one moment you and I were becoming friends in the infirmary, telling each other stories to distract us from the pain in our ankles, and the next moment the entire organization was scattered, like ashes blowing in the woeful and watery Winnipeg winds.