In which an artist falls for an inventor.
Started 3\14\22. Ended 3\1\23
Or in which an artist finds the most intricate and extravagant piece of art in a girl. AU
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OPHELIA DARLING ran.
She ran like never before.
The cold wind hit her pale cheeks as cold as ice, and her hair flew behind her, mingling with her blonde hair. Her legs burned and her chest rose and fell in deep breaths that came out like a mist.
She threw a glance over her shoulder and the woman with no beard but hair gave her a malicious grin.
Her heart pounded in her head, and she clenched her jaw, as the scenery passed by her as a blur. White zoomed past her and snow fluttered down, making a home in her hair.
Run, Ophelia.
Run.
She skidded to a halt, the land she had been running on abruptly caught off, a steep jump into the abyss below; a jump to death. Her doe blue eyes widened, as she blinked, the snow on her eyelashes fluttering down.
The blonde slowly turned around to face the woman with no beard but hair who grinned like the devil.
Perhaps she should explain how she landed up here. . .
Two hours.
Two hours were left until the plan was in motion. Two hours would determine whether their plan would work.
Ophelia breathed, fiddling with a loose string of her mittens, the nervousness crawling up her stomach like a snake, and squeezing her insides uncomfortably, almost making her want to puke.
One thought kept circling her mind; where the hell was Eugene and Silas?
She realized them to be missing as they discussed their plan of action, as everyone fumbled over their words, their faces paling, as the time arose... their stomachs tightening as the time rose near.
Violet Baudelaire had been exceptionally nervous, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, her soft brown hair in a ponytail tied by a purple ribbon.
Ophelia wished she could comfort the eldest Baudelaire but how could she when she herself was just as nervous as her?
"Alright, then, it's time," announced Angelina, giving the others a firm nod, her jaw clenched.
"It is," agreed Klaus, nodding his head, as he grabbed a bat and twirled it around and grabbed a toy gun which Ophelia didn't know what it could be used for.
"Ok, does everyone remember what you have to do?" Quigley nodded as the others chorused in agreement.
A bile-like feeling went up Ophelia's throat as she wrung her hands.
"Remember if anything does wrong, and I repeat anything at all, just give a shout," warned Angelina.
Quigley ran out, for his part in the plan was the first. He walked around the forest and tilted his head up looking at a particularly thick tree. Slender fingers skillfully grabbed branches of the tree and lifted himself up, grunting a little. Lifting himself up, he grabbed his spyglass and adjusted his lenses.
