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uwmspeccoll · 1 year

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Decorative Sunday with Henry P. Kirby

These charming sketches are the work of New York architect Henry P. Kirby (1853 - 1915). Architectural Compositions contains fifty loose plates printed on Whatman paper and housed in a portfolio. It was published in Boston in 1892 by Bates, Kimball & Guild, publishers of one of the United State’s leading architectural journals of that time, The Architectural Review (Boston), not to be confused with the longer running Architectural Review still in publication out of London.

Kirby would have been working as a draftsman for George B. Post at the time of publication, for whom he later worked as lead designer before striking out on his own. Some of the subject matter also evokes Kirby’s time in France, where he studied at the École des Beaux-Arts after training with his father, also an architect. Per the subtitle, some of the sketches were “made in connection with actual projects,” while many were “the result of study during leisure moments.” I found Kirby’s eye for the human elements in his sketches particularly endearing, from the foreground figures to details on the buildings themselves, like open widows and overgrown foliage, or what looks like a duvet cover hanging out to dry (first image above).

For any music buffs reading, the final sketch includes some bars of "Très-jolie" from the opéra comique smash hit La Fille de Madame Angot.

Our copy of Architectural Compositions was gifted to UWM by Gustav A. Elgeti in 1966.

Find more Decorative Sunday posts here.

-Olivia, Special Collections Graduate Intern

#Decorative Sunday #Architectural Compositions #Henry P. Kirby #Henry Petit & Green #Bates Kimball & Guild #The Architectural Review #George B. Post #École des Beaux-Arts #La Fille de Madame Angot #decorative plates #decorative arts #beaux-arts #architecture #architectural drawings #architectural plates #olivia

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queenofsquids · 3 months

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Comparison left to right:

Super7 Ultimates Hyacinth Hippo

Madame Alexander Olivia the Pig 10"

Rainbow High Jade (I think)

#doll comparison #super7 ultimates #super7 hyacinth #madame alexander olivia

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madam-barnes · 5 months

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There was purpose (/commentary) behind making John Walker’s wife and best friend black right?

And, like, can anyone tell me what that decision was trying to say; can anyone articulate the feeling I have into actual words and analysis?

#that coupled with the fact that Sam has no black friends in the mcu (which I don’t think was nearly as purposeful) is very interesting #john walker #us agent #olivia walker #lemar hoskins #battlestar #mcu sam wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #madam speaks…#+w

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carewyncromwell · 9 months

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"I ain't afraid of no ghosts."

x~x~x~x

...Okay, while all of you have been obsessing over Barbenheimer, Tory here has been obsessing over the new Haunted Mansion movie that Disney released because the parks' Haunted Mansion rides are one of my favorite Disney-related things ever and the film actually does the concept pretty damn good justice, in my opinion...so after seeing the movie multiple times (one and a half of those times at the official preview for the film, which I was fortunate enough to work), I had to draw some content for that HPHM Haunted Mansion AU I wrote a long while back, starring our favorite no-longer-ghost boy Duncan Ashe as a early-2000's paranormal investigator sent to explore the haunted Cromwell Manor in upstate New York. Surrounding him are five of the most central ghosts in his story -- from left to right, "the Ghost Host," A.K.A. Bill Weasley; "the Wanderer," A.K.A. Orion Amari; "Madame Olivia" Green (in the crystal ball); "the Headless Man," (currently with his head) A.K.A. Jacob Cromwell; and "the Beating Heart Bride," A.K.A. Carewyn Cromwell! Be on the look out for more content for this AU soon, especially as the "spooky season" properly approaches...it's been so fun to revisit this idea again, even with how differently it adapted the Haunted Mansion premise compared to the new movie! ^.^

Have a magical day, everyone! 🖤🖤🖤

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #haunted mansion #my art #duncan ashe #jacob cromwell #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #bill weasley #also no LOL the phantom doesn't get a cameo bc hey I wanted to feature the protagonists this time ;)#I'll actually be recoloring this slightly for a full masterpost I want to do for this AU later on #I want to really color the ghosts beyond just their ghostly forms while still making them look vaguely incorporeal #but I want to experiment a bit #olivia will always been green though because hey madame leota also her name is literally green hahaha

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badlydrawndrawnings · 2 months

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Even More ASOUE Characters (Still The Adults)

And the Beatles Songs I Can't Help But Associate Them With, Part Two.

Montgomery 'Monty' Montgomery, Penny Lane (~Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs/Of every head he's had the pleasure to know/And all the people that come and go/Stop and say, "Hello"~)

Josephine Anwhistle, Octopus's Garden (~We would be so happy you and me/No one there to tell us what to do/I'd like to be under the sea/In an octopus' garden with you~)

Isaac 'Ike' Anwhistle, Here Comes the Sun (~Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces/Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here~)

Gregor Anwhistle, Strawberry Fields Forever (~Let me take you down/'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields/Nothing is real/And nothing to get hung about/Strawberry Fields Forever~)

Hector, Blackbird (~Blackbird singing in the dead of night/Take these broken wings and learn to fly/All your life/You were only waiting for this moment to arise~)

Madame Lulu, Tomorrow Never Knows (~Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream/It is not dying, it is not dying/Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void/It is shining, it is shining~)

Olivia Caliban, I'm Only Sleeping (~Keeping an eye on the world going by my window/Taking my time/Lying there and staring at the ceiling/Waiting for a sleepy feeling~)

R the Duchess of Winnipeg, Boys^ as cover by The Beatles [~My girl says when I kiss her lips/Get a thrill through her fingertips] + I Want to Hold Your Hand* (~Oh please, say to me/You'll let me be your man/And please, say to me/You'll let me hold your hand/You'll let me hold your hand/I want to hold your hand~)

^Originally a song by The Shirelles about how a girl feels about boys, I picked the cover version for R because given the irony about a man (Ringo, who sings the cover) singing about boys, I feel there's more irony by associating the cover with R, an implied canon lesbian, by changing the context of the cover: a woman who loves women 'singing' about the boys her lover dated/kissed before.

*Given that a cover version of I Want to Hold Your Hand appears in the movie Across the Universe (2007) with change of context being about a female's singer unrequited love for her female friend who is straight, I couldn't help myself but associate the song with R.

Captain Widdershins, The Fool on the Hill (~Day after day/Alone on a hill/The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still/But nobody wants to know him/They can see that he's just a fool/And he never gives an answer~) + (~But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down/And the eyes in his head see the world spinning 'round~)

Fernald, Hey Jude (~And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain/Don't carry the world upon your shoulders/For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool/By making his world a little colder) + (~Hey Jude, don't make it bad/Take a sad song and make it better/Remember to let her under your skin/Then you'll begin to make it/Better, better, better, better, better, better, oh!~)

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the-al-chemist · 2 years

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Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 4: The Defence of Jacob Hexley

A/N: Jacob Hexley is put on trial. Warnings: intrigue, courtroom drama, references to death and violence, one certain witch in pink robes…

The trial of Jacob Hexley and Patricia Rakepick was to be held in the courtrooms on the very lowest level of the Ministry of Magic. When the morning of the trial arrived, Artemis and Madam Rosmerta, who had closed the Three Broomsticks for the day in order to accompany her, met Kingsley Shacklebolt next to the fountain in the atrium before making their way down to the belly of the Ministry together.

“Level Nine,” the cool voice of the lift announced, after a short descent from the atrium. “Department of Mysteries.”

“The lift doesn’t go any lower,” said Kingsley, as the doors rattled open. “We will have to walk the rest of the way.”

With Rosmerta’s arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Artemis followed Kingsley down the corridor. She had not had any reason to visit the Department of Mysteries during her two weeks of work experience, and she was struck by the difference between the corridor she was now walking down compared to those of the higher levels. This corridor was bare, without any windows or doors, save for a single jet black door at the very end of it. Something about the door made Artemis shudder, though she was not certain why. She stared at it, and as she did, it opened to reveal a young witch with thick-rimmed glasses and curly dark hair pulled back into a bun.

“After you,” said the woman, closing the door quickly and gesturing to a set of stairs on the left.

Madam Rosmerta’s arm steering Artemis down the stairs prevented her from looking at the black door or the woman who had stepped out of it, but she could hear a fourth set of footsteps behind her as they descended to Level Ten, where the courtrooms were situated.

The courtroom itself was a large, high-ceilinged room with dark stone walls illuminated by torches. Rows of benches rose up on three sides, highest on the wall opposite the door, with people occupying seats on all sides.

“Spectators to the left, witnesses to the right,” said a squat witch with a toad-like face and pastel pink robes, her high-pitched voice ringing like a shrill bell. “I’m afraid that the seats straight ahead are reserved for members of the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law.”

She said the word ‘members’ with a slight inflection that made it clear that she believed said members to be far more important than Artemis or either of her friends. Rosmerta pursed her lips before she hugged Artemis tightly and made her way to the benches on the left, leaving Kingsley to lead her across the courtroom to the right, past the rows of benches seating the members of the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law, who were dressed in plum-coloured robes.

The witnesses’ seats were mainly empty, aside from the two pale, drawn faces of Artemis’ fellow students Merula Snyde and Ben Copper, sitting side-by-side on the front bench; the grubby features of Mr Borgin, who owned a disreputable shop in Knockturn Alley; and a wizard on the very back row, whose face was cast in such dark shadow that Artemis couldn’t recognise his features save for a flash of his white beard.

“You okay?” she asked Ben as she sat down beside him. He shook his head silently, his lips pressed tightly together as if he was trying not to be sick. Artemis placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently, before leaning across to Merula.

“Sod off, Hexley,” Merula hissed, before Artemis had the chance to say anything.

“I just-”

“I said, sod off.”

Artemis rolled her eyes and faced forward, just as the young witch from the Department of Mysteries made her way up the rows of benches to sit a few seats behind them. Artemis watched her, frowning. She didn’t recognise the witch at all. Were more trials taking place than that of her brother and Rakepick?

She turned back to Kingsley to ask him, but found herself unable to say anything as she noticed yet another woman enter the courtroom and make her way over to the spectators’ benches, dark hair half-covering her face as she walked to the very back row with her head lowered. Artemis’ mouth went dry. Even with her half of her face obscured from view, she was able to recognise her own mother.

The pink-robed witch made her way to the Wizengamot benches and sat on the front row, holding a fluffy pink quill and parchment. A single wooden chair appeared in the centre of the room and the court fell silent, before a woman’s voice - lower-pitched and far more resonant than that of the pink witch - began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your attendance today,” said the voice, which belonged to a grey-haired witch with a square jaw and a monocle in the middle of the front row of the Wizengamot benches. Her upright posture and level, authoritative voice reminded Artemis of Professor McGonagall. “Let us begin the proceedings. Criminal trial of the twenty-fourth of August 1990, pertaining to the offences of Jacob Odysseus Hexley of Camden, London, and Patricia Rakepick of Foulburn-in-Pendle, Lancashire. Interrogater-in-chief shall be myself, Madam Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sitting beside me and acting in the role of court scribe is Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge, Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office.” Beside Madam Bones, the pink-robed witch gave a tight-lipped smile. “Witness for the defence shall be…”

“Myself,” said a familiar voice from behind Artemis, and she turned in her seat to see that the wizard in the back row was also on his feet. Now that he was no longer sitting in the shadows, she was clearly able to recognise the features of her headmaster. “Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I won’t bore all you dear people with my many titles and accolades.”

Dumbledore gave a wry smile, and there were a few quiet chuckles from the benches around the courtroom. Madam Bones inclined her head and used her wand to cast a Patronus, that of a large silver-white owl. Across the courtroom from her, the door opened to reveal two Dementors flanking a handsome young wizard with messy dark hair and hazel eyes, his hands cuffed together at the wrist.

“You are Jacob Odysseus Hexley?” asked Madam Bones, and Jacob nodded his head. “For the benefit of the court scribe, the accused has indicated that he is indeed Jacob Hexley by the nodding of his head. Jacob Hexley, you are today accused of working for the criminal organisation that goes by the name of ‘R’ for two years between 1979 and 1990, and committing acts of crime in their name, notably multiple offenses under the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Magic, one of which resulted in the death of a wizard. You are also accused of failing to answer summons to provide evidence to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the winter of 1981. Today we shall hear evidence and pass judgement on you. Do you understand?”

Jacob nodded again.

“For the benefit of the court scribe, the accused has indicated by the nodding of his head that he understands the charges put against him. Professor Dumbledore, if you please.”

Dumbledore walked down the steps to stand beside Jacob, his wand raised above his head and a shield-like Patronus swirling in the air above him. He bowed his head at Madam Bones and rested his free hand on the back of Jacob’s chair.

“Professor Dumbledore, you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are you not?”

Dumbledore inclined his head and smiled serenely.

“For the benefit of the court scribe, I am indicating my answer to be an affirmative with a nod of my head,” he said, and there was another quiet round of chuckles. Madam Bones’ lips twitched, but beside her, the court scribe’s toad-like face darkened. “Furthermore, I admit to being headmaster of Hogwarts throughout Mr Hexley’s formal education.”

“How would you describe the accused as a student?”

“Intelligent, curious, conscientious, proud, charming, ambitious, bold - dare I say it? - a little too bold at times,” Dumbledore smiled again. “Altogether, rather brilliant. Without wanting to sound immodest, I would say that he was not unlike myself as a student.”

“Rather brilliant,” said Madam Bones, ignoring the titters around her. “And yet, Mr Hexley did not complete his formal education, did he?”

“No, he did not.”

“Why not?”

“Mr Hexley was expelled shortly before his eighteenth birthday following a series of… unfortunate incidents.”

“Would one such incident be the death of Mr Duncan Ashe?”

“It would,” Professor Dumbledore inclined his head. “Mr Ashe and Mr Hexley were close friends during their time at Hogwarts. Mr Ashe was similarly bold and ambitious, and the two of them became embroiled in a quest during their time at Hogwarts.”

“A quest?”

“A quest to discover the infamous Cursed Vaults.”

There was a murmur that echoed around the courtroom. Madam Bones held Dumbledore’s gaze silently as the murmur subsided.

“The Cursed Vaults are said to be a legend,” she said, after the courtroom had fallen silent.

“One only need read the Daily Prophet’s articles about recent events at the school to know that this is not the case. The Cursed Vaults are real, as Mr Hexley and Mr Ashe discovered. Unfortunately, they are not the only ones to have discovered this over the years,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “The organisation that calls themselves ‘R’ has also made this discovery, far less innocently than two schoolboys.”

The court scribe cleared her throat. “Hem hem,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I’m afraid that it is the court who shall be deciding who is innocent today, Professor Dumbledore.”

“Of course, my dear Madam Umbridge. A turn of phrase, nothing more.”

“Professor Dumbledore, please tell us about the events surrounding Mr Ashe’s death,” said Madam Bones.

“Duncan Ashe was sadly killed in a tragic potioneering incident. The two boys were hoping to brew a potion that could be used to attack a creature guarding one of the Cursed Vaults. Evidence found at the scene indicated that powdered Erumpet Horn had been used, causing the potion to explode, with fatal damage to both Mr Ashe and the surrounding area. The story was corroborated by the ghost of Mr Ashe himself following the accident.”

“If this was an accident, as you say,” Madam Umbridge said, very carefully pronouncing the word ‘accident’, “how did Mr Hexley come to be expelled as the result thereof? Surely, his expulsion would indicate some degree of guilt in the matter?”

“Madam Umbridge, I must point out that you are here in the role of court scribe, not interrogator,” Madam Bones told her. “However, the question stands. Why was Mr Hexley expelled?”

“Mr Ashe’s death took place in June 1981,” said Professor Dumbledore. “At that point, Mr Hexley was told under no uncertain terms that he must discontinue his search for the Cursed Vaults. Earlier in the year he had broken his wand in search of the Vaults, and been seen consorting with several unsavoury characters. This was his final warning; were he found to have anything else to do with the Cursed Vaults, he would be expelled.”

“And he did not heed this warning?”

“He did not.”

“So, it was your opinion that Mr Hexley’s obsession with the Cursed Vaults made him a danger to his peers.”

“I have said nothing of the sort. I told Mr Hexley what the consequences would be were he to be found investigating the Vaults, and he was later found to be investigating them. As headmaster, it is my unfortunate duty to be a disciplinarian, and as an honourable individual, it is my moral duty to keep to my word,” Professor Dumbledore removed his hand from the back of Jacob’s chair. “Mr Hexley showed great promise. His interest in the Cursed Vaults was unfortunate, yet understandable. Many very honourable witches and wizards of great intellect have pursued similar quests. It does not make them criminals.”

“Perhaps not,” said Madam Bones. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. We shall now be hearing from a Mr Borgin, of Knockturn Alley. Mr Borgin, if you please.”

Professor Dumbledore stepped back as Mr Borgin took to the front of the court.

“Your full name and profession?”

“Tubal Borgin. I am the proprietor of Borgin and Burke’s, a shop in Knockturn Alley. I deal in collectibles and antiques.”

Beside Artemis, Kingsley made a quiet noise that sounded almost like he was clearing his throat. She turned to look at him and, seeing that his eyebrows were raised and lips pursed, had to stop herself from laughing. Borgin and Burke’s sold many things, half of which were likely to be illegal and almost none of which she would class as either collectibles or antiques.

“Mr Borgin, it is my understanding that two known members of the criminal organisation ‘R’ - namely Madam Patricia Rakepick and Mr Loken Burke - have, on several occasions, frequented your shop.”

“That’s right. Loki’s the nephew of my former business partner, and Madam Rakepick used to come in a fair bit when she wasn’t off somewhere with Gringotts,” said Mr Borgin. He frowned suddenly, and added, “I didn’t know that either of them were criminals at the time, mind you.”

“He’s lying,” whispered Artemis.

“Oh, I know,” Kingsley replied.

“You are not the one on trial today, Mr Borgin. What business did Madam Rakepick and Mr Burke have with you?”

“Sometimes they bought, er, antiques. Mainly, though, they used a cabinet.”

Madam Bartholomew raised her eyebrows. “A cabinet?”

“Yes, a vanishing cabinet. One of pair, its partner can be found somewhere at Hogwarts school. They used it to carry messages between themselves and Jacob Hexley.”

“Jacob Hexley? You are certain?”

“Very certain. I was under instructions not to read the messages, but I made a point of checking that they had sent through. I never deliberately read them, but there were a couple of times that I saw the ink shining through the parchment-”

“Another lie,” Artemis breathed.

“- and I clearly could make out his name. And, what’s more, Jacob Hexley used the vanishing cabinet himself just last year. Late November, maybe early December. Left a message in there.”

“Has anyone tried to use the cabinet since then?”

“Only myself, doing my routine maintenance work. It’s been out of order since February.”

Artemis bit her lip and looked away from Mr Borgin. She knew exactly why his cabinet was out of order; she had damaged its partner terribly earlier in the year. She had done a pretty good job of trying to destroy it, she doubted that anyone would ever use it to send messages again.

“No one has used the cabinet since Jacob Hexley sent a message in November?” said Madam Bartholomew. “Not a single person?”

“Well, there was a response. Madam Rakepick collected it, said she was under orders from Hexley to pick up the message for him.”

There was a round of murmurs through the courtroom, but Artemis barely took note of them. Her blood had run cold; she had been the one to send that letter to Jacob, detailing when and where she would be meeting him the night that she, Ben, and Merula had gone into the forest. The night that Rakepick had intercepted them. The night that she had killed Artemis’ best friend.

“Did you report this at the time?”

“Er…”

“Never mind,” Madam Bones tutted. “Why do you think Jacob Hexley sent Patricia Rakepick to collect his messages?”

“If I may interrupt,” said Dumbledore, as Borgin opened his mouth to answer Madam Bones’ question. “The only thing suggesting that Jacob Hexley asked Madam Rakepick to collect this message was her word. I would think it far more likely, given the nature of the events that transpired following this interaction” - Artemis shuddered involuntarily - “that Rakepick intercepted this message on her own volition.”

Madam Umbridge piped up: “Unless, of course, Mr Hexley and Madam Rakepick worked together to-”

“There is no evidence that Jacob Hexley had any involvement in the death of Rowan Khanna, and nor is he on trial for such involvement,” Dumbledore said finally.

“Indeed. We shall not ask further questions on this matter,” Madam Bones cast a sideways glance at the court scribe, who did not look abashed in the slightest. “Mr Borgin, please return to the benches so that we may question our next witness.” She glanced down at the parchment in front of her, and read the name, “Madam Green.”

The young woman who had followed Artemis, Kingsley and Ros down the stairs from level nine rose to her feet and walked silently to the centre of the courtroom.

“What is your name?” asked Madam Bones.

“Olivia Mnemosyne Green.”

“And your profession?”

“I’m an Unspeakable.”

“And what does that role entail?”

“Well, I’m not really allowed to say. That’s why we’re called Unspeakables,” Olivia Green said wryly, and there were a few titters from the witches and wizards watching the trial. Madam Bones’ lips twitched, but she raised her eyebrows pointedly at Olivia Green, who bowed her head before continuing. “I work in the Department of Mysteries as a Oracler.”

Madam Bones’ eyebrows raised even higher. “You’re a Seer?”

“An Oracler. I don’t make prophecies, I analyse and keep records of them,” explained Madam Green. “I’m afraid I cannot say more than that.”

“I see. Or, I should say, I understand. Madam Green, please could you tell the court about your relationship with Mr Hexley?”

“I went to school with Jacob. We were friends. Both of us were interested in prophecy analysis, you see. We read Tycho Dodonus together in our first year.”

“Very impressive. Was Mr Ashe part of your friendship group as well?”

“He was, but not until our second year. He was in Slytherin and had read about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. He was determined to find it, and asked us to help, so we went looking together. We never found it, but whilst we were looking for that, we found out about the Cursed Vaults. We were having no luck with the Chamber of Secrets, so we thought we’d have a go at finding the Vaults instead,” Madam Green said. She paused and swallowed. “At first, we weren’t getting very far, but it was Jacob’s idea to talk to the ghosts. One of the ghosts mentioned a charms professor named Fortinbras who had tried to find the Vaults in the nineteenth century, along with a group of talented students. We found a few books she had written, and that led us in the right direction. By the end of our third year, we thought we might know where one of the Vaults was.”

“Did you find it?”

“Yes. We found it at the top of a staircase hidden by enchantments on the fifth floor of the castle. It was locked, but we were certain that it was the Cursed Vault. Over the summer, we decided to track down the other Vaults, but when we got back for our second year, Jacob decided that we shouldn’t just try to find the Vaults, we should try and break the Curses, too. I was against it, but Duncan was for it, because he wanted to become a Curse-Breaker. So we did that.”

Madam Bones frowned. “If you were against it, why do it?”

“We took a vote and it was two against one,” Olivia Green said, as if that should have been obvious. “We always voted on these things, and always went with the majority.”

“How diplomatic.”

“Of course. We were a team, so whatever we did, we did together. At least, that’s what I thought,” Madam Green breathed. “I didn’t realise at the time, but Jacob had been doing a lot of research into the Vaults himself. After we broke the first curse, he started trying to work with other people, as well. With the group Professor Fortinbras had set up all those years ago. He found that they were still a group, and that they were still active. He called them-”

“R?” Madam Bones asked, and Olivia Green nodded her head in response.

“Exactly. He said that they would help us to break the curses. I didn’t trust them, but I was outvoted again.”

“Why didn’t you trust them?”

“They were too secretive. They wouldn’t say who they were, or exactly what they were doing, or who was in charge of them. I didn’t want to work with people like that.”

Frowning, Artemis whispered to Kingsley, “But she’s an Unspeakable…”

Kingsley glanced at Artemis with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” he murmured back.

“After Jacob’s dad died,” Olivia Green continued, “he became even more secretive, and even more adamant that we should be breaking the curses. It was like he was trying to distract himself from what had happened. He spent more time alone, and more time with just him and Duncan. By the time we were in our sixth year, they had started taking orders directly from R, said they were going to join them in their search. When we found out that there was a dragon in one of the Vaults, I said that it was too much. If R knew so much, let them break their own curses. It was too dangerous. I wasn’t even of age. I wanted to stop, but-”

“You were outvoted?”

“Yes. But this time, I didn’t go along with them. I just left. They never listened to me anyway.”

“And so you managed to avoid Mr Ashe’s fate,” said Madam Bones. “Madam Green, one final question, if you please. Was Patricia Rakepick one of the members of R that Jacob Hexley contacted?”

“No.”

Artemis’ mouth dropped open, and she looked across at Kingsley, who had leaned forward in his seat, a curious look on his face. What was Madam Green talking about? Rakepick was a member of R. She had said so herself.

But Olivia Green wasn’t done.

“Not at first,” she continued. “Jacob found her separately. She was already a fairly well-known Curse-Breaker at that point, you see, so he wanted to get some advice. Probably she joined them after starting to search for the Vaults, like Jacob and Duncan did. I never had much to do with her. It was Jacob who always spoke to her.”

“Thank you, Madam Green. No further questions,” Madam Bones nodded her head at Olivia Green, who returned to the witness stands. The interrogator nodded to the court scribe, who stood up and passed her a pile of parchments. “Along with the testimony of Madam Green and Mr Borgin, I have here the transcripts of several interviews conducted in the later part of 1981. Mr Hexley was, in the summer of 1979, witnessed consorting with several persons of unsavoury reputation, including the Patricia Rakepick. He was further witnessed consorting with Madam Rakepick until the autumn of 1981, shortly before he disappeared.”

“My dear Madam Bones,” said Dumbledore, who had remained quiet throughout the testimonies of the other two witnesses, “Jacob Hexley is not on trial for talking to Patricia Rakepick, nor is talking to Patricia Rakepick a crime. Indeed, if it were, quite a few people in this courtroom might be trialled, myself included.”

“Hem hem,” said Madam Umbridge. “Jacob Hexley may not be accused of talking to Patricia Rakepick, but he is accused of working alongside her to commit criminal offences.” Several members of the court began to whisper, and Artemis’ stomach lurched uncomfortably as Umbridge continued, “According to the testimony of our last witness, he did willingly act under R’s orders, and was planning to join the organisation.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore smiled. “The operative word in that sentence is planning. We have heard no evidence to suggest that Mr Hexley joined the ranks of R, nor that he knew the extent of their criminality at the time he was considering doing so.” He glanced briefly at Jacob before adding, “Perhaps if Madam Bones - who is, after all, the chief interrogator in this case - were to question the defendant himself, he might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

“An excellent idea,” said Madam Bones, and she turned her attention fully towards Jacob. “Mr Hexley, the court has been presented with the evidence against you. Before we vote to reach our verdict, have you any words in your own defence?”

Artemis sat up straight in her seat. This was Jacob’s chance to explain himself, to make everyone see that he had been innocent all along, that he did not deserve to be sent to Azkaban. She craned her neck as she looked at him, willing that he would speak bravely in his own defence.

Still sitting in the wooden chair in the centre of the room, Jacob swallowed hard. He raised his head, looked Madam Bones in the eye, and told her:

“No.”

“No?” Madam Bones looked surprised. She wasn’t the only one; there were hushed murmurs from all corners of the courtroom. “You have nothing to say to defend yourself?”

“I do not,” said Jacob, calmly. “I am guilty of every offence laid at my feet. I willingly acted under the orders of R, wishing to become a member myself, fully aware of the illegality of this. I betrayed my friend Duncan-”

“Jacob, no!” Artemis spoke out loud without realising it.

“- Ashe to further my own ambitions,” Jacob continued on, seeming to ignore Artemis’ shout or the gasps from several onlookers. “His death wasn’t an accident. It was orchestrated by the Cabal, and my involvement proved my loyalty to them and my dedication to their cause.”

The murmurs around the courtroom grew louder still, and Artemis gripped the bench she was sitting on so hard her knuckles turned white. What was Jacob saying? This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. She willed Jacob to stop talking, but he did not stop.

“I was obsessed with the Cursed Vaults, and thought that the Cabal was my key to them. I went missing to evade capture, I trespassed on the grounds of Hogwarts School, and I endangered more lives. I see now the error of my ways, and I know that am fully deserving of whatever punishment the Wizengamot and Council of Magical Law see fit to give me.”

As Jacob fell silent, Artemis found herself unable to speak. She stared at him, shaking her head, but he did not look at her. Instead, his eyes drifted in the opposite direction, towards the spectators’ benches, where their mother sat with her eyes closed, stock still among the whispering and fidgeting crowd.

The court took a few moments to settle. As the noise and movement began to subside, Madam Bones cleared her throat.

“In that case, we shall vote,” she said. “All those who find the defendant innocent?”

Not a single hand went up. Professor Dumbledore gave Jacob a look that Artemis couldn’t read.

“And those who find him guilty?”

Artemis’ heart beat faster and faster as, one by one, the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law raised their hands into the air. Madam Bones lowered her own, conjured a small hammer, and knocked it. The noise seemed to echo in Artemis’ ears.

“Jacob Odysseus Hexley, you have been found guilty of all charges,” said Madam Bones, her tone matter-of-fact. “As such, you will be sentenced to a minimum of fourteen years in Azkaban prison. Further to this, your internment will be dependent on assessment of your character and any other evidence that may come forth before this time.”

The doors of the courtroom swung open, and Artemis watched helplessly as the Dementors escorted her brother away out of sight. She blinked, hard, as if doing so might make the scene in front of her not real, but nothing happened. Jacob had been taken away, cuffed and escorted by Dementors, as if he truly were a guilty man.

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #the hexley saga #jacob hexley #merula snyde #ben copper #kingsley shacklebolt #olivia green #amelia bones #dolores umbridge #albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore #madam rosmerta

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afterthegreatunknown · 3 months

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Widdershins Gets Inadvertently Insulted, and Semi-Reveals his Feelings

Welcome to the fourth ‘chapter’ of my Seven Six Widdershins Family Members AU. Inspired by the Six Baudelaire AU by unfortunate-stranger-losers, in this AU, the Book!Widdershins Family and Netflix!Widdershins Family are now combined together to make a family of six. This 'chapter'...it's a lot.

Off-screen: Violet, Klaus, and Sunny after telling Mr. Poe they’re not going with him, hitchhiked their way to Paltryville, due to the mystery of a now-gone group photo and newspaper headline. They soon get illegally adopted by Sir to work at Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Olaf as such spends two weeks trying to find the Baudelaires, for Mr. Poe lost tabs on them. During the second week, Mr. Poe hears rumors about the children being at a melon mill, and he and his sister Eleanora go investigate it.

Of course, the Melon Mill no longer stands. But Olaf has an idea where the Baudelaires could be at, and gets confirmation after asking Madame Lulu at Caligari Carnival. Fernald isn’t happy to drive Olaf to the middle of nowhere that is the Hinterlands. He’s even less happy to be at Caligari Carnival, for reasons...

Because I'm still unable to make 'align center’, as well as proper breaks in HTML in the new editor, when you see [] brackets with ramblings inside them, it’s indicating a section change.

Fernald: “God! To think this place is still such an utter dump! I heard stories from my stepfather—well, I heard it was the tourist destination to go to back in the day.”

Madame Lulu, gesturing to their surroundings: “Madame Lulu is trying to get help as she can, yes. Very hard though to get money to fix things up. The House of Freaks generate entertainment, but not enough that audience give enough money in my pocket.”

(Olivia Caliban, mentally thinking: “I think it would better to get the rides working again. And games booths. And better refreshment. And acts. I think maybe forcing people who are oddly considered freaks by society’s standards is losing their charm at last.”)

Hugo, Colette, and Kevin, all sticking their heads out from their caravan, for they’re a bunch of eavesdroppers: “We’re trying the best we can as freaks, Madame Lulu!

Kevin, noticing Fernald, and smiles: “Hey! Nice to see you again Hooky! I-we haven’t seen you in a while! Are you alright? You sound sort of tense.”

Fernald, waving hook: “I’m fine. Thank you. I hope you three have a semi-decent day.” *turning to Madame Lulu* “Seriously. Do you ever plan on fixing up this place?”

Madame Lulu: “Fixing not in carnival’s future, yes. At least not now.”

With Olaf getting confirmation from Madame Lulu the Baudelaires are in Paltryville, he takes Seller as the associate, for Seller is only one who can handle Dr. Orwell’s personality. Seller and Olaf disappear for a full month, with disguises packed by Verne for them to be Foreman Flacutono and Shirley the Secretary, which came from the V.F.D. kit. Except for the Flacutono wig; Verne hates the V.F.D. wig enough to buy his own. That leaves Harper, Penny, Lucy, Verne, and Fernald back in the City.

Nothing happens for a full month. At the start of the next month, Seller calls the house, and orders Verne to take a train and/or steal a car to get to Paltryville. Seller for once, thinks Olaf is in over his head, and concern that something bad may happened at Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Verne arrives just in time too.

Violet was able to save break Klaus free of his hypnotism after playing the researcher. Klaus was able invent something to save Charles from getting murdered. Sunny had her buck-wild sword fight with Dr. Orwell with her teeth (the wildest thing to ever happen).

And Dr. Orwell falls to her death. Well! Looks like Seller was right!

With Olaf soon getting expose from his secretary act, and Seller dropping his foreman act alongside the wig, the two high-tail the hell out of the mill before Mr. Poe, his sister, and the authorities arrived. Verne in his stole car is waiting outside the fence, and frowns upon seeing Seller and the lack of wig on his head.

Verne: “Do you know how difficult to find such a decent looking wig without a shine?! Do you also know how time consuming it is to get a shine out of a wig!? God! I should have given you the shitty V.F.D. wig had I know you would carelessly throw a wig away!” Seller: “You can buy a decent looking wig without a shine or the materials to get a shine out a wig at a reasonable price, Nemo! Why not bitch about your nephew’s wooden hands!? They’re the one that take up a lot of money!” Olaf, patience wears thin: “As much as I enjoy watching a good conflict, WE STILL NEED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE. Nemo, start driving to the train station!”

Meanwhile, while this is going on —near the end of events—Tegan officially joins the Queequeg as the second member of the Crew of Two. It would have been a great occasion, if it wasn’t for the fact that day is also Fiona’s fifteenth birthday. Fiona isn’t that upset her birthday was a bit overshadowed by Tegan’s arrival, and doesn’t cry at her party. Fiona finds some positive from Tegan’s joining the Queequeg.

Fiona: “She may not be a mycologist, but Tegan does know fungi. It’ll be nice to have someone around with a similar interest. I just hope we’ll have the chance to discuss it though. With the way everything is, well as Tegan’s new-found professionalism, the chances of that seem very slim.”

As Ephraim departs from the Queequeg to go out on his mission, Ephraim gives Fiona and Widdershins parting gifts. For Fiona, it’s her birthday present: a copy of The Mysterious Island. For Widdershins, it’s a reminder of “the greatest chance you would never get normally.” It’s a painting of Ephraim himself. Tegan covered her face in embarrassment over the gift (rightfully so because WHAT IS THIS GIFT).

Widdershins: “…This is a fine gift, sir.” (Mentally though, Widdershins is all, “FUCK THIS PAINTING AGAIN?”) Fiona: “I agree with my stepfather. It’s a very fine painting.” (Mentally though, Fiona is all, “And once again, Step-Grandfather has no idea what actually constitutes as a good gift.”)

Returning back to Olaf and the Acting Troupe, they lay low for a week. The Baudelaires find themselves having a happy time at Prufrock Prep. It’s not because the academy is a wonderful place itself, but because they finally have friends in the form of Duncan and Isadora Quagmire. However, such happiness doesn’t last long.

Olaf, after getting around round of help from Madame Lulu (for ‘Orphans off to a boarding school’ is too vague of hint, as well as it surprisingly refers to other orphans), takes Penny and Lucy as his associates for his newest scheme. However, this time around, he asked the ladies to go on ahead first as cafeteria workers. Olaf is unsure how he can get around the advance computer Vice-Principal Nero programmed roaming outside the school, and wants them to figure out the computer’s flaw.

Two weeks pass. Penny and Lucy call the house and tell Olaf about the flaw. They believe that if he’s in a disguise that hides some particular features—namely his eyebrow— he’ll go undetected. And so, Olaf goes to back to the hell that is Prufrock Prep under the disguise as Coach Genghis, with a new plan in action.

With Coach Genghis around, he makes the Baudelaires run laps at night for the S.O.R.E. program to get them time and get them to fail their class. As such, to help their friends in the realm of research, the Quagmires decide to dig up information about Olaf, as well as something else the Baudelaires requested.

Klaus, unfolding the drawing from Ike’s room that he kept: “I found this in our Aunt Josephine’s husband’s private room.” Duncan, narrowing his eyes, leaning close to the drawing: “That’s an interesting illustration. What it is of?” Violet: “We don’t know. Our Aunt Josephine only told us was that her husband Ike was studying it with a few others within their…friend group, but that’s all.” Isadora: “It must be something dangerous, private, or both if she kept quiet on it.” Sunny: “Senildeah!” (“What about the headlines!?”) Klaus, turning to Sunny: “That’s right! I nearly forgotten about those! Thank you, Sunny!” *turning back to the Quagmires * “In Ike’s private room, there was a newspaper headline about The Thistle of the Valley accident. Our time in Paltryville didn’t tell us anything about it. We only learned more about parents and their…friend group.” Duncan, pulling out his commonplace book and pencil, writing things down: “Paltryville, The Thistle of the Valley…” *looking up, smiling* “It’s still not a lot to go on, but it should be enough to find basic information, even if it’s unfortunately wrong.” Violet, smiling: “Thank you. I know it might be a mystery that won’t get solve completely, we’re grateful that you’re helping us.” Isadora, smiling: “We’re friends, and that is what friends are for.” Sunny, grinning, clasping hands together: “Daw…” (“Daw…”)

Meanwhile, back in the City and in Olaf’s house, Seller and Fernald are at each other throats, and Verne and Harper are playing card games that isn’t Roland’s Folly. The closest things to interesting is Harper getting updates regarding Gustav’s corpse and Monty’s house. Gustav’s body was found floating down from Swarthy Swamp to a river that leads to Lake Lachrymose, and that Monty’s place got mysteriously burned down, with rumors of two arsonists in odd get-up having set the place on fire.

Actually, Monty’s place getting burn happens right after Olaf enacted his plan to kidnap the Baudelaires after they get expelled from Prufrock Prep. Olaf orders the remaining troupe to pick them up. Verne and Fernald have one car to drive Penny and Lucy and the kidnapped children, while Seller and Harper have the other car to drive Olaf himself, because he at the moment, doesn’t want to share the vehicle as them.

But there’s a small change of plan regarding the kidnapping.

Duncan and Isadora, having disguised themselves as the Baudelaires (with Sunny being played by a sack of flour), get themselves kidnapped. Near sunrise, the Quagmires make their escape, but fail to see ‘Sunny’ was left behind. Lucy, having watching in the shadows alongside her sister, panicked, and ran onto the field.

Lucy: “Is the baby sick! IS THE BABY SICK? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO WITH YOUR SIBLINGS, BABY?” *The bag of flour flops over, and Lucy screams* Penny, joining her sister: “…That’s flour. That’s a bag of flour! Why would Violet and Klaus not have their sister running tonight alongside them?” Olaf, joining them as well, connecting the dots on why Violet and Klaus were oddly the same height, unlike all the other nights: “…Those annoying orphans brats. Ladies, go after the two Quagmires!” Penny and Lucy, confused: “The Quagmires?” Olaf: “Yes, the Quagmires! They were pretending to be the Baudelaire Brats the whole time! Like I said before! Go after them! I have a feeling they’ll be useful to us!”

Verne and Fernald as such, get a surprise when driving away from Prufrock Prep.

[A Kidnapping in the Happening!]

“You got to be kidding me! You two got the Quagmires Triplets?!” Fernald continued to look back behind the front passenger seat, not giving a damn that he’s unbuckled, because fuck car safety at the moment.

“Triplets?” asked Lucy, trying her best to keep Duncan from moving around. “There’s two of them though! The newspaper said they’re twins!

“Just because there’s two of us doesn’t mean we’re twins, lady!” shouted Isadora Quagmire, struggling against Penny’s tight grasp on her. “Our brother’s death in the fire doesn’t change a thing about our birth!”

“You lost your brother in a—OW! I got bit! How rude!” Lucy’s winced, and loosened her grip on Duncan Quagmire. Duncan as such, started to kick against the back side-passenger door in a rhythmic pattern.

“FUCK YOU ALL!” yelled Duncan at the top of his voice. “FUCK! YOU! ALL! YOU HEAR ME? YOU HEAR ME!?”

“Don’t you go breaking the door, brat!” growled Uncle Verne. “God, talk about having a hell of a drive back! Why do you have the Quagmires!?”

“A ruse is what happened!” Penny struggled to keep Isadora still, while trying to grab the burlap sacks from the backseat pocket to throw onto the Quagmires faces. “These two tricked us by pretending to be the Baudelaires! The boy was Klaus, the girl was Violet, and a bag of flour was the baby! How stupid that last one is!”

“Oh, fuck off with your stupid-ass complaints and insults about us!” Duncan continued to kick the door, and then glared at Uncle Verne. The glare had Fernald wondering what the Quagmires discovered about V.F.D. exactly. “You’re a bunch of miserable, selfish, assholes ruining other people’s lives without a damn over something stupid!”

“I agree with my older brother!” exclaimed Isadora. “You’re doing this all willing too! How do you live with yourselves! Don’t you care what others might think! Like your family?!”

“Shush, annoying little girl!” sneered Penny, managing to cover Isadora’s face with the burlap sack. “Now stay quiet, or else I’ll do something you’ll wish never happened to you. Unless you want me to do it your older brother! He bit my little sister, after all!”

Isadora did that, but it doesn’t stop her from moving around in the backseat anyway. Duncan meanwhile, continued to curse like a sailor at the top of his lungs. Well, at least until Lucy stuffed the burlap sack into his mouth. Fernald had to give up his jacket to Penny to cover the brat’s eyes.

[Must Be HELL of a Ride Back...]

Meanwhile, back at on the submarine Queequeg, V.F.D. finally got to Widdershins’ request for another crewmember, for Phil joins as the cook. Because Tegan is the unofficially part of the Crew of Two, Phil is delegated as an additional member; the chef.

With Tegan around, Fiona either helps Phil in the kitchen, or assists her stepfather and Tegan on reading charts and maps and submarine repairs. Fiona only has enough idle time to read The Mysterious Island. Fiona has yet read her stepfather’s birthday present, for it’s still in its wrapping.

(It’s a surprise tool that will help later.)

Tegan is doing a great job of being part of the Crew of Two. She keeps the Queequeg in almost near perfect condition, and almost always shadows Widdershins. Widdershins doesn’t mind her tailing, at first. He slowly grows irritated as Tegan unknowingly insults him. Widdershins wouldn’t mind the insults (for he’s quite use to insults) if Tegan didn’t compare him Ephraim while doing so. Tegan is harsh on Widdershins for not going back to land to restock on supplies so quickly, unlike Ephraim’s supplies runs. Tegan complaints to Widdershins on switching back and forth between subject matters, for Ephraim focuses on one thing at a time.

One day, Widdershins and Teagan were walking to a trolley stop with bulk of groceries in boxes, for they went on a supply run. There at the stop, is a thirteen-year-old boy with dark hair and dark wearing a backpack, holding a folded map in his hands. The boy has a mask covering the lower half of his face, like he has a cold and doesn’t want to spread germs. The boy eventually starts a conversation with them.

Thirteen-year-old Boy, muffled voice: “You got a lot of groceries for just two people.” Widdershins: “We’re actually carrying groceries for four people! Aye!” Tegan: “Eight people really, given we’re stocking up for supplies.” Thirteen-year-old Boy: “Stocking up?” Tegan: “Aye. It’ll be a while before we can go get groceries again, so we’re preparing.” Thirteen-year-old Boy: “Ah.” *nodding head, tilts head to side* “Thank explains why you have everything in bulk. Odd to see you don’t have small snacks in bulk.” Widdershins: “None at all! But we do have crackers!” *Widdershins sets the boxes he’s carrying down, and takes the top box off, setting it onto the ground. He then pulls out a rather large box of circular, salted crackers* “We got it for free, and while I like snacking on crackers, I don’t like this particular brand! Aye! Would you like to have them?” Tegan: “Are you—” *rolling eyes* “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now!” Thirteen-year-old Boy, tying his best to not laugh: “I was always told by my parents that I’m not supposed to take food from people I don’t know…” *stomach growls* “…but given my personal circumstances, I think I’ll make this the sole exception.”

The thirteen-year-old boy takes the box of crackers just as the trolley arrives. The boy goes onto the trolley, while two people get off the trolley. The boy takes a seat near the window, and waves goodbye at them, with Widdershins and Tegan waving also.

(Widdershins and Tegan will not know that they interacted with Quigley Quagmire until a dispatch got sent to them a week later when on the Queequeg:

Fiona, looking up from her charts: “Stepfather! Tegan! We got a telegram!” Widdershins, running down the spiral stairs: “Here I thought it wasn’t working!” Tegan, sliding down the pole: “Who send it to us, Niece Fiona?” Fiona, looking at telegram: “It’s from Quigley Quagmire.” Widdershins and Tegan: “What?” *Everyone looks at the dispatch* Dispatch: Captain Widdershins, I know this isn’t how one must use the Volunteer Factual Dispatch, but I must thank you STOP. The crackers you gave me lasted me a good while STOP. I am unsure when I’ll communicate with you again, but just know I heading towards the Mortmain Mountains for personal reasons, as well as related to the organization. Hopefully we will communicate with one another in the future STOP.”)

The two people that got off the trolley are real estate agents. One of them opened up their umbrella due to the sun, and they begin talking. There, Widdershins and Tegan hear that Monty’s home is gone, due to a fire of unknown origins. The land is now up for sale as potential retail development.

Widdershins was ready to stand up and ask them question as a random, curious citizen, but for the first time in years, he hesitates, and keeps quiet. This has Tegan going on yet another comparison, after they return to the Queequeg (Fiona is in the makeshift library, while Phil is out in the main control room looking out the port window).

[~If you say it like that, it must mean that you hate me~]

“Why did you stay silent, V? Remember our old man’s philosophy!” Tegan’s voice was close behind him, yet seemed so far away. “He —or she— who hesitates is lost!”

“I know that, Tegan.” Widdershins gripped the bottom box tightly as he tried to set the boxes onto the table. “I can’t forget such a philosophy, even if I wanted too. Aye, I had it drill into me longer than you.”

“Why did you hesitate then? Aye! You could have asked them more about it as a random, curious citizen. I think they wouldn’t have mind that!”

“I could, but I didn’t, aye.” Widdershins inhaled, and then exhaled. It’s all just a matter of keeping it under control. He can do this. He can do this. Widdershins took the first box off, and then the second box.

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you ask, V? Aye! If Stepfather was here, he would have asked them for sure!” Tegan’s voice goes slightly higher, as well as defensive. “Stepfather would have asked nonchalantly without a second thought! Aye! Stepfather would have successfully gotten more information! Having so many years of experience, our old man’s actions unlike yours—”

“Are correct! Aye! Are ideal! Aye! Are what the organization wants in a true volunteer! Captain Ephraim B. Widdershins does everything right, and everything I do is wrong!” Widdershins spun around on his heels, and gave a cold, stern glare at her.

Tegan, still carrying one the boxes, stared at him with her brown eyes. Her eyes blinking fast behind her triangle glasses, and her lower lips quivers. “V…”

“Is everything okay? I heard loud voices!” Phil’s voice called out from the outside.

Widdershins stared at Tegan, and then closed his eyes. He knew he fucked up big time. He had to apology, not just to appease his old man, wherever he is right now.

“I’m sorry.” Tegan’s voice was small.

Widdershins reopened his eyes, and stared at Tegan, and shook his head. He then took a step towards her.

Tegan took a step back, still with the box in her hand. The way Tegan was acting now, Widdershins was reminded of that day so long ago. Tegan was six, thinking him as a ghost from her past haunting them. He can’t blame Tegan for acting like this now.

The two of them didn’t speak for a bit. But Tegan eventually, took a step closer to him. Widdershins carefully took the box from Tegan’s hands.

“Don’t apologize, Tegan,” said Widdershins. “You didn’t know how I felt, because I didn’t tell you. Aye, so don’t go feeling guilty over something you didn’t know of.”

Tegan remained quiet, but she did nod her head.

“To tell you the truth about all of this,” continued Widdershins, “I’m doing this in the perspective of an outsider. As an outsider, Captain Ephraim B. Widdershins is a great submarine captain. He’s a well-respected volunteer in the organization. His stepdaughter as such deserves the best chaperone. Instead, you got stuck with—”

Widdershins couldn’t help but pause mid-way. Insulting himself would make Tegan feel worse, no doubt. Widdershins just sighed, as he placed the box onto the table.

“Tegan, I’m fine with you disrespecting me as your brother. Stepbrother,” said Widdershins. “As your chaperone though, I insist you accept and respect what I do, and do exactly as I say. And I said it was best we didn’t engage in conversation.”

Tegan once again, nodded head. In a quiet voice, she replied, “Okay.”

[~No! I don't hate you at all~]

Despite all the bickering and unknowing comparisons, there is one good thing going between Widdershins and Tegan. And that, is calling Phil “Cookie” for no apparent reason. Widdershins started it first, and Tegan jumped onto it. It drives Fiona off the walls to where she told them over dinner one night, with the meal being some sort of fish, vegetable, and cheese casserole (it’s not as bad as it could be, too).

Fiona, passing the black pepper to her stepfather: “It’s just impolite! It’s more polite to call someone by their proper name!” Widdershins, dumping black pepper over the casserole Phil made for diner: “Maybe so! Aye! But I have yet heard Cookie complain about it!” Tegan, drinking some lemonade, for they can’t have the lemon-lime soda: “He clearly likes the nickname. *turns to Phil* “Isn’t that right, Cookie?” Phil, *serving himself casserole, smiling*: “I do like it! I don’t mind the nickname at all. I always wanted a nickname when I was a kid! Cookie is a very nice nickname to have!” Fiona, doing an expression that is similar to the well-known scrunch-up Kermit face: “Well, alright then. I’m just surprise that you two when in a blue moon, are scarily so much alike. And this is considering how you are the opposite of one another.” Tegan, nearly choking on her lemonade, having feeling insulted: “Scarily alike? Niece Fiona, understand that comment is just uncalled for! He may not look it, but know at times he’s an empty head with no thoughts.” Widdershins, setting the black pepper down: “That means you too, can be an empty head with no thoughts.” Tegan: “…” *Pushes Widdershins off his chair* Widdershins, from the floor: “Hey!” Tegan, smirking as she swaps their plates: “It’s mine now, V.” Phil, still smiling: “Ah, siblings bonding. How wonderful!”

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #fanfic #widdershins family curse concept au #captain widdershins #tegan widdershins #verne widdershins #fernald widdershins #fernald #hook handed man #fiona widdershins #ephraim widdershins #count olaf #the acting troupe #the theater troupe #the bald man #the white face women #madame lulu #(there's a lot of characters in this chapter. tagging those in au + those with 'roles'. hence madame lulu but not olivia caliban)

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queenofsquids · 3 months

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Playin with Olivia. Obviously most clothes will in no way fit onto her lil ham body. But some shorts from a stuffed Mickey are entertaining. And an open cardigan from Glitter Girls with the sleeves tucked way up is ok for pretending she isn't nakie.

#madame alexander #madame alexander olivia #dolls

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katniss-evermeme · 2 years

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My mom may be getting tired of my brother watching A Series of Unfortunate Events on repeat, but my brother himself is getting tired of me saying “She deserved so much better” every time Olivia Caliban shows up on the screen. So I guess he’s starting to see my mom’s point.

#a series of unfortunate events #asoue #olivia caliban #madame lulu #we got to the carnival episode today #i cannot handle the carnival episode #she was one of the only characters that had their best interests at heart 😭#she joined vfd just to find them 😭

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duchessofvfd · 2 years

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#VFDfiles

name: Olivia Caliban

age: 21

department: undefined

“Don't be afraid of losing people, but be afraid of losing yourself trying to make everyone happy.”

#vfd #asoue #lemony snicket #atwq #a series of unfortunate events #count olaf #all the wrong questions #lemonysnicket #vfdfiles #olivia caliban #madame lulu #the carnivorous carnival

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valjeans · 2 years

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The Three Phantoms song list has them singing the confrontation during the Les Mis medley. Do you think Earl has forgotten to update the song list from the last tour or will one of them be trying out their Valjean?

i had actually thought about this a bit and think it is on purpose cause i think the last few three phantoms concerts actually had bring him home instead of stars.

my thoughts are probably jeremy as javert and richard as valjean? gives jeremy a chance to showcase himself as a former javert but also leaves earl to do stars? (even though he hates it i think he understands that as the biggest name on the billing he does have some responsibility to give the audience what they want). richard did bring him home on his solo album so he clearly can vocally do valjean. but earl does also love doing random other parts in les mis at concerts so i guess we shall see!

#my thoughts are jeremy/richard confrontation #katie idad #earl stars #one day more #richard will do valjean #katie cosette and olivia eponine #emmmmm then it would have to be like earl marius and jeremy enjolras???????#and then jeremy javert #earl thenardier and katie madame t #absolute chaos tbh

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

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“A cold and friendless tide has found you -- Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down. I'll paint a ray of hope around you, Circling in the air -- lighted by a prayer...” ~“Candle on the Water” from Pete’s Dragon

x~x~x~x

Hi guys! So the recent Hogsmeade Festival quest surprisingly did spark a little bit of inspiration in me...namely, to give a little bit of love to our favorite Three Broomsticks owner, Madam Rosmerta! So I decided to do this drawing of her coming around to show my boy Jacob Cromwell some kindness and bring him a warm mug of Butterbeer.

“Here. I’ve been trying this new caffeinated brew that’s got a shot of unsweetened cocoa powder mixed in. Reckon if there’s anyone who’d appreciate it, it’d be you.”

We learn canonically in year 5 that Madam Rosmerta felt warmly enough toward Jacob that she actually gave him a safe place to stay when the Ministry came looking for him post-expulsion. And yeah, the same was true for Rosmerta with Jacob Cromwell. In my headcanon, Rosmerta first became a barmaid at the Three Broomsticks while the Marauders were still at school, which made it so she was about nine years older than Jacob -- exactly the same age gap Jacob originally shared with Carewyn, prior to getting trapped in the Portrait Vault. Therefore Rosmerta ended up developing something of an “older sister” relationship with Jacob, who she initially found to be an incredibly curious and bright kid with a brand of infectious enthusiasm that was all his own.

Over time, though, Rosmerta saw how much the Cursed Vaults and R’s influence was weighing on Jacob, at least from afar, since he wouldn’t confide in her the extent of everything going on. But from what she was gathered in passing -- hearing that his best friend Olivia had gone missing, learning that Jacob’s owl had died after carrying a Howler that went off prematurely...seeing how pale, exhausted, and gaunt this usually bright-eyed, energetic teenager had become, in his fifth and sixth years...Rosmerta gathered Jacob wasn’t doing so well. And then when he was expelled mysteriously by Dumbledore and rumors started swirling about him being involved in Knockturn Alley, Rosmerta stuck by Jacob and offered him lodging.

One night, however, Jacob left his room and never resurfaced again. It wasn’t until many years later than Rosmerta learned why that was. And when Jacob did actually resurface at the Three Broomsticks again after being stuck in a Portrait for seven years, looking just the same as he did when she last saw him, Rosmerta -- now a full sixteen years older than the boy standing before her -- embraced him in relief, just glad to see that he was safe. She even invited him to stay at the Three Broomsticks again, until he’d finished studying for his NEWTs and found some way to support himself financially. Jacob accepted, but only after taking on some work part-time as a bartender mixing drinks, so as to earn some money to pay for his room and board.

Once Jacob got all of his NEWTs and was able to enter the Wizarding World properly as a free man with a clean record, he remained in touch with Madam Rosmerta through Owl Post and even popped into the Three Broomsticks for a visit now and again, to visit his old friend. One such visit was right after Dumbledore’s death, upon hearing that Madam Rosmerta had been placed under the Imperius Curse by Draco Malfoy and thus unwittingly had helped the Death Eaters for nearly an entire school year. That occasion was one of the first times that Jacob actually ended up counseling Rosmerta, rather than the other way around --

“I know what it’s like...being forced to do things you’d never do, if you had a choice. It’s bogue. Totally bogue, worse than bogue. It’s violating and dehumanizing and...well, wrong. Everything about it feels wrong, you feel wrong. And it feels that way for a long while after, even when people say it wasn’t your fault and you’re not that person and they don’t blame you for it. ...But y’know...it does get better. It does get easier to look at yourself in the mirror and not just see the harm you caused. It does. ...I promise it does.”

In that moment, Rosmerta was actually left pleasantly surprised, to see just how wise this book-smart, people-dumb spaceman had become.