Letter the First

[theabjectauthor]

[in the early morning, Lemony slipped out of the castle, shrouded from the knees down in a fog that rose off the snow, giving it all the appearance that it had a ghostly double lying on top of it, vying for space. wisps of it rose from the cobblestones and danced over the ice in the town fountain. by the time he reached the door of Violet's workshop, her guardian was rubbing his gloved hands together against the chill, so that they would not fumble as he quietly worked his messenger bag open. the leather straps protested slightly in the cold, but he was able to withdraw the letter carefully folded within, and slip it through the mail slot, sure not to catch the scarlet wax seal on the brass as it dropped. there was a flutter deep in his chest, as though he had set a bird free, rather than a message, and he nodded once to himself before turning away.

cold or no cold, morning was the best time to explore a town. perhaps he'd find some fresh greens at a grocer for his friend Jennifer to eat, now that she was a turtle, or a small cafe where he could sit and enjoy a cup of tea. the day that stretched out in front of him was entirely his... and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. it felt oddly light...

one long, heavy letter lighter, as a matter of fact.

there were a lot of things he didn't know what to do with, these days. and he was beginning to find that it was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.]


Dearest Violet and Sunny,

Are you familiar with the idea of the palimpsest? It is a Latin word, which refers to a document which has had its previous contents scraped or erased away, so that the paper can be used again for a new purpose. The word itself comes from Greek for "scraped again", as paper used to be made from much stronger material, from which the ink truly could be scraped away. In many cases, when the paper was used for a second time, the marks made by its former writer could still be seen beneath the new letters.

I am not saying this to teach you a new sort of code, though it is true that palimpsests can be a very fine delivery method for messages one would rather keep secret. You may search this letter all you like, and you will see no afterimage, no ghosts of letters past. And yet, I still feel as though this letter is a palimpsest, as the things I wish to write to you about carry the echoes of messages I wrote long ago, even while I would speak of things that are entirely, wholly, heart-poundingly new. It may also help to think of the things I have already disclosed to you as part of this palimpsest, so that I do not find myself knee-deep in the tedious - a word which here means "causing a waste of ink and cramping hands" - chore of repeating myself.

Many times, I have said that I am honored by the opportunity to be your guardian, but it is not the sort of honor one feels upon receiving the key to a city, a trophy for a spelling bee, a larger office in a corner with brightly lit windows, or even a free scoop of ice cream on a hot day for being patient and waiting in line while other less responsible people ahead of you have dropped their ice cream on the pavement for careless reasons and lost it forever. It is the sort of honor that comes with knowing that you are the keeper of a treasure: like the boy with the key to the magical cupboard, or the young beginning spy with a notebook full of dear secrets, or the girl who finds a garden and learns to make it grow. But it is so, so much more than that, when one considers the palimpsest beneath: if, for example, the boy had once had another cupboard which shattered, or the spy a secret that could not be kept, or the girl had once lost a vast and singular greenhouse in a terrible fire. Imagine, then, the way they would feel upon discovering such treasures or being entrusted with them. It would not matter if the cupboard was made of sturdier, more shatterproof material, or the notebook were the sort that could be written in in the rain or locked with a key, or the garden were full of hardy plants that could grow back after being burnt. They would be treasures all the same, and even more dear for it.

A treasure is not always guarded because of its worth to others. Sometimes it is guarded because of what it means to the guardian.

Faithfully yours,


((OOC: Now that you've all enjoyed your dose of feelings, consider this an open town log.))

Comments

[cyan_maid]

[Hmm...you know what Jane feels like doing today? She feels like going into town. She doesn't do it often, but today just seemed like a town kind of day. So, all bundled up, Jane is strolling along, humming quietly to herself and only half paying attention to where she's going.

Of course, she just so happens to step right onto a patch of ice on the road and nearly into a man walking ahead of her. Whoops!]

Whoa!!

[theabjectauthor]

OH!

[staggering backwards, he reaches out to catch whoever just ran into him, so that they don't get knocked down to the pavement, and -- his eyes widen]

Jane?!

[cyan_maid]

[Nice catch! Jane seems to be alright, if a bit dazed. She looks up when she hears her name, and for a second, she can't quite place the voice, but-]

...Mr. Snicket??

[theabjectauthor]

Quite assuredly, yes. [he frowns, worriedly] Are you alright?

[cyan_maid]

I'm fine! Thank you so much...[Wouldn't want another bump to the head, now would we? She'll just stand up and dust herself off.]

[theabjectauthor]

It's quite alright - I suppose I owe you an apology for not minding myself more ... [but he'll smile as he tips his hat to her]

Might I ask what's brought you out to town, this morning?

[cyan_maid]

[She smiles and shrugs. No apology necessary!] It's a pretty morning! I felt like taking a walk. What about you?

[theabjectauthor]

I had a message to deliver, and thought I would use the opportunity to explore the town a bit more, since, as you say, the weather is no longer inclement.

How have you been? I haven't seen you since my return... I trust things are well?

[cyan_maid]

[She hums and tips her head a little.] Things have been...alright. But what about you? How did the trip go?

[theabjectauthor]

Oh, it was remarkable. Once we were out a discernible distance from the Dead Zone, the snow all melted and the sun came out.... It was as though spring arrives earlier elsewhere. .... I admit, I felt quite overdressed, and had to leave a decent amount of my luggage in a safe location for the return trip.

[cyan_maid]

Huh. Now that's something to think about. Maybe the seasons linger on the borders and wait to spring on us.

[Jane's not usually prone to whimsy like that, but in this case she'll make the exception.]

[theabjectauthor]

[he laughs, a genuine smile spreading across his face. that's happening more and more, lately, and he's not sure if he should be worried]

Well punned. ... And somehow, entirely possible, despite the initial absurdity of the idea.

[cyan_maid]

Most likely! I remember autumn and winter happening upon us in quite a hurry when their times drew near.

[She's smiling too! Smiling at the absurd, imagine that.]

[quadro_dent]

[Sunny had woken up early on this chilly morning and, having little else to do, decided that she would make breakfast for her sister. They didn't have a very large kitchen but there was plenty of space to make something simple for the two of them. She had decided to make scrambled eggs with cheese but when she opened the fridge to retrieve the required ingredients she was very distressed to find that they had no eggs.

This is, of course, quite problematic when one would like to make something and has none of the key ingredient. Thus she decided to walk to the corner store and see if she might be able to buy some before her sister got up. She pulled on her jacket, picked up a few caisos and headed for the door... only to find a letter on the floor.

Well that was quite unexpected. She leaned over to pick it up an the was seal caught her eye. L S (Or S L depending on how one reads it). Who does she know with those initials? She thinks for a moment before it dawns on her. Lemony Snicket, of course! But why would he send them a letter instead of reaching out to them through the journal like the rest of the residents at the castle? Curiouser and curiouser, as a certain literary character might say.

Turning around she headed back inside and went to Violet's room, letter in hand, to see if her sister was awake yet.]

[signedlefthanded]

[Violet is used to rising early. She has a list of project thats either need to be tended to or need to be researched. She likes to stay busy, most often it keeps her from dwelling on all that is and all that was, a phrase here which means Violet would prefer not to think of all the unfortunate events in her life. Staying busy was once a necessity, bouncing around fron guardian to guardian, running for their lives. It never gave her an oppurtunity to grieve.

She doesn't allow herself to here either. She has her shop and now Sunny to look after. She trusts Lemony, above all others, but it is a burden she will bare. Violet promised her mother and father. She is the eldest.

At the desk in her room, she sits comfortably with a manuscript. Hearing her sister's movements, Violet rises and comes to stand in the doorway. The letter is in Sunny's small hands. How odd.]

Where did you find that?

[quadro_dent]

[Oh, hey, that made things easier. She knew that Violet generally rose early back home but one never knows how habits may change when put in an unusual situation such as this. Though it was a comfort to know that some things never did.

Stepping closer she smiled at Violet and held out the letter with the wax seal on the top.]

Pobox. [Which obviously means "I found it by the front door. It appears that someone pushed it through the letter slot sometime last night or this morning."]

[signedlefthanded]

[Violet takes the letter and lets Sunny climb up on her lap if she so wished. Recognizing the initials, she quickly tears it open. Thinking the worst, she is most surprised as she starts to read the letter outloud for Sunny's benefit.

By the end, she's so touched she has to wipe a tear from her eye.]

He's a very kind, but very sad man, Sunny.

[quadro_dent]

[Sunny does, indeed, climb into her sister's lap and rests her head on her shoulder as she listens to her read the letter. She may not be able to read very well yet, herself, but her eyes roam over the page as she listens.

She had no idea the extent to which this man seemed to care about them, nor the importance they seemed to hold in his heart. The fact that they finally seemed to have a guardian who legitimately wanted to care for them and protect them meant the world for her and she found herself wiping a tear away as well as she nods]

Lemony. [Or rather "I've only spoken to him once but he seems like a very nice man and I'm glad to know him"]

[signedlefthanded]

[Violet has to wipe at her own eyes. Jerome was the closest guardian or perhaps Uncle Monty. But one had failed them and the other was killed. Violet hoped for both their and Lemony's sake this turns out better.]

Perhaps you can make him something, and we'll invite him over for dinner.

[quadro_dent]

[Sunny nods, smiling. It's very encouraging to think that they can do something nice for their guardian and not have to worry about Olaf or his cohorts (which in this case means horribly cruel acting troupe turned criminal gang) interrupting with one of their dastardly schemes. They could have a real life here with pleasant dinners and evenings spent with family and friends instead of living in fear for what the next day may bring.]

Cuisine. [which of course means "I think that's a wonderful idea. I would love to make dinner for him."]

[signedlefthanded]

[She holds Sunny close to her. There's nothing more she's wanted than family here, than safety. For as much grief as this place gives, it's given her more than she could have back home. Family.]

Then it's settled. What would you have?

[quadro_dent]

[She thinks for a moment. Her cooking skills may be somewhat limited as she is still learning but she does have some good ideas. She's also restricted by the fact that she cannot wield large enough knives to cook anything with a substantial amount of meat in it. Not without assistance that is.

But there are always alternatives. She smiles]

Oderfla. ["I can make spinach and pasta alfredo. I saw a recipe in a book"]

[signedlefthanded]

I think he'll like that. If you make me a list, I'll go to a few stores. [She turns to the desk and grabs a pen and paper.]

I think he'll like that.

[quadro_dent]

[She nods and crawls off of her sister's lap and heads out of the room to go find the cook book.

She returns shortly, carrying the larger book. She lets it fall to the floor with a THUNK and flips it to the right page.]

ici! ["here it is!"]

[signedlefthanded]

[Quickly she wrote down everything the book said they needed.]

Seems easy enough. I think we can do that.