Post by VICTOR NATHANIEL VAN DORT on May 7, 2015 4:33:02 GMT
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”Uh yes…yes….Master Victor Van Dort here. That’s me.” The man tips his Victorian era top-hat in your direction. His large beady eyes follow every move that you make. Expressive eyebrows seem concerned — the concern seems to double when he realizes that he’s forgotten to invite you inside. “Do…do come in, won’t you?” [break][break]
The large home came from a fortune amassed by Victor’s family. Fish merchants, a part of the noun riche. They invented canned-fish. But of course, that’s not how Victor himself became famous, is it? You place your hand on the bannister to the upstairs, but Victor stops you. [break][break]
“I wish you…well, you can just stay down here. My wife…she’s….she’s not well.” He casts his eyes upwards, staring longingly at the door at the top of the staircase. You sense that something is wrong, but you know better than to push into the inner-workings of his mind. He is a closed off man — he struggles with his emotions. You can tell by the nervous way that he slides the brim of his top-hat through his fingers. [break][break]
Long bony fingers. [break][break]
You shutter for some reason, suddenly feeling ill at ease. You’ve come for the story, not for Victor Van Dort. [break][break]
“I guess we should…get to it, then?” He gestures toward the large victorian sitting room and you take a seat opposite him. You pull out your mole-skin notepad and a quill and ink well before you look up at him. He seems to take the hint. Reaching up, he pushes some of his dark hair away from his eyes before he starts in on the very thing that you came here for: the story of The Corpse Bride. [break][break]
“This all starts with me, I suppose. I was supposed to marry Victoria,” He gestures up the stairs at the closed door and you begin to wonder what exactly it is ailing the Madame Van Dort. “I wasn’t very…well, I wasn’t very well trained, that’s the truth of the matter.” [break][break]
“Her parents and mine had it all planned out, but…I wasn’t entirely ready to get married. My fears became sloppy vows and dropping rings and setting her mother on fire. Blast…I forgot I set her mother on fire.” There is a twinge of pink in his cheeks. You are tempted to laugh, but you hold your hand over your mouth, granting yourself discretion. [break][break]
He seems to regain his confidence…or at least, what little confidence he had before. “Pastor Gastwells told me to go learn my vows. So that’s precisely what I did. Into the woods, chanting them over and over again. ‘With this ring…I will…I will set your mother on fire.” For a moment, he buries his face in his hands, but suddenly he is present. There is a new expression in his eyes. Something that wasn’t there before. [break][break]
“The twig. The twig that I put the ring on, well, it wasn’t a twig at all. I was Emily.” [break][break]
“Emily?” You’ve realized this is the first time that you’ve spoken since the conversation had started. Victor seems surprised. [break][break]
“Emily.” He has been fumbling with his top hat and finally puts it down on the table, grasping his hands together. “She became my…my….” He struggles to find the word, his eyes again turning to the door at the top of the stairs. “My corpse bride.” The phrase is barely above a whisper. You raise your eyebrows — the story is far more curious than you could have possibly imagined. [break][break]
He looks at you, his expression guarded. “We went to the Land of the Dead. She…she gave me Scraps back.” You remember Scraps from long ago. Victor always had him with him when he traveled the village in his youth. The dog was long since dead. [break][break]
“I tricked her to come back to the land of the living. Told her I wanted her to meet my parents…how could I have been so cruel. I wanted to tell Victoria that I loved her…but Emily pulled me back before I had a chance.” He is obviously embarrassed now, even more so since it seems that your quill has been moving more quickly across the pages of your journal. [break][break]
“She was upset…how could she not be,” Victor’s eyes turn away from you, focusing on the window where you can see a small butterfly in a cage. Suddenly he is on his feet, crossing the room. “I apologized…she deserved the apology. But it was something more than that.” [break][break]
He seems conflicted now. Should he be telling you all of this? You pause and tap the quill against the side of the page, leaving little ink splatters. Victor leans against the desk and looks at you. “I found out that Victoria was engaged to Barkis. It was the only thing that I could do…I told Emily that I would marry her in the land of the living. Affirm our marriage and drink from the poisoned goblet.” [break][break]
He reaches up and runs his hand down his face before turning around and slamming his hands into the desk. It is the first guttural reaction you think you have ever seen from Mr. Van Dort. “But it was Barkis. It was Barkis who had killed Emily. I couldn’t let Victoria stay with that…monster.” He doesn’t look back at you. You think that he’s lost in his own little world. [break][break]
Suddenly he speaks again. “Emily saved us. She saved us all.” It was Emily who had allowed him to marry Victoria in the first place. You want to say something, but it seems like the wrong time. Silence continues, leaving you feeling rather strange about the whole ordeal. Is there more to the story? Is there more about Emily that he hasn’t told you? “Now, she’s…” He gulps. “Gone.” He breathed as he lifted the glass container and the butterfly started to fly around the room. He pushed open the door to the terrace. “Gone.” [break][break]
He doesn’t know who he is any longer. The man with the bony fingers and dark hair that appeared in Wonderland without a memory. It doesn’t bother him, not remembering. He thinks there is nothing to remember. Who was he before he was Victor Van Dort? [break][break]
“That’ll be…Well, if you add it all together…I’ll just take…” Victor runs his hands through his hair as the patron pushes a few dollars his way. “Yes, that’s lovely. Thank you.” His little artistry shop is nothing out of the ordinary. He paints, plays the piano and sells both his artwork and sheet music, none of which he considers very good. He spends most of his time quietly contemplating the world of Wonderland. Married to Victoria Van Dort, he can’t help but wonder if something is missing. Not that he would know if it were, considering he can’t remember entirely anything before five months ago. Is something is gone? [break][break]
”Uh yes…yes….Master Victor Van Dort here. That’s me.” The man tips his Victorian era top-hat in your direction. His large beady eyes follow every move that you make. Expressive eyebrows seem concerned — the concern seems to double when he realizes that he’s forgotten to invite you inside. “Do…do come in, won’t you?” [break][break]
The large home came from a fortune amassed by Victor’s family. Fish merchants, a part of the noun riche. They invented canned-fish. But of course, that’s not how Victor himself became famous, is it? You place your hand on the bannister to the upstairs, but Victor stops you. [break][break]
“I wish you…well, you can just stay down here. My wife…she’s….she’s not well.” He casts his eyes upwards, staring longingly at the door at the top of the staircase. You sense that something is wrong, but you know better than to push into the inner-workings of his mind. He is a closed off man — he struggles with his emotions. You can tell by the nervous way that he slides the brim of his top-hat through his fingers. [break][break]
Long bony fingers. [break][break]
You shutter for some reason, suddenly feeling ill at ease. You’ve come for the story, not for Victor Van Dort. [break][break]
“I guess we should…get to it, then?” He gestures toward the large victorian sitting room and you take a seat opposite him. You pull out your mole-skin notepad and a quill and ink well before you look up at him. He seems to take the hint. Reaching up, he pushes some of his dark hair away from his eyes before he starts in on the very thing that you came here for: the story of The Corpse Bride. [break][break]
“This all starts with me, I suppose. I was supposed to marry Victoria,” He gestures up the stairs at the closed door and you begin to wonder what exactly it is ailing the Madame Van Dort. “I wasn’t very…well, I wasn’t very well trained, that’s the truth of the matter.” [break][break]
“Her parents and mine had it all planned out, but…I wasn’t entirely ready to get married. My fears became sloppy vows and dropping rings and setting her mother on fire. Blast…I forgot I set her mother on fire.” There is a twinge of pink in his cheeks. You are tempted to laugh, but you hold your hand over your mouth, granting yourself discretion. [break][break]
He seems to regain his confidence…or at least, what little confidence he had before. “Pastor Gastwells told me to go learn my vows. So that’s precisely what I did. Into the woods, chanting them over and over again. ‘With this ring…I will…I will set your mother on fire.” For a moment, he buries his face in his hands, but suddenly he is present. There is a new expression in his eyes. Something that wasn’t there before. [break][break]
“The twig. The twig that I put the ring on, well, it wasn’t a twig at all. I was Emily.” [break][break]
“Emily?” You’ve realized this is the first time that you’ve spoken since the conversation had started. Victor seems surprised. [break][break]
“Emily.” He has been fumbling with his top hat and finally puts it down on the table, grasping his hands together. “She became my…my….” He struggles to find the word, his eyes again turning to the door at the top of the stairs. “My corpse bride.” The phrase is barely above a whisper. You raise your eyebrows — the story is far more curious than you could have possibly imagined. [break][break]
He looks at you, his expression guarded. “We went to the Land of the Dead. She…she gave me Scraps back.” You remember Scraps from long ago. Victor always had him with him when he traveled the village in his youth. The dog was long since dead. [break][break]
“I tricked her to come back to the land of the living. Told her I wanted her to meet my parents…how could I have been so cruel. I wanted to tell Victoria that I loved her…but Emily pulled me back before I had a chance.” He is obviously embarrassed now, even more so since it seems that your quill has been moving more quickly across the pages of your journal. [break][break]
“She was upset…how could she not be,” Victor’s eyes turn away from you, focusing on the window where you can see a small butterfly in a cage. Suddenly he is on his feet, crossing the room. “I apologized…she deserved the apology. But it was something more than that.” [break][break]
He seems conflicted now. Should he be telling you all of this? You pause and tap the quill against the side of the page, leaving little ink splatters. Victor leans against the desk and looks at you. “I found out that Victoria was engaged to Barkis. It was the only thing that I could do…I told Emily that I would marry her in the land of the living. Affirm our marriage and drink from the poisoned goblet.” [break][break]
He reaches up and runs his hand down his face before turning around and slamming his hands into the desk. It is the first guttural reaction you think you have ever seen from Mr. Van Dort. “But it was Barkis. It was Barkis who had killed Emily. I couldn’t let Victoria stay with that…monster.” He doesn’t look back at you. You think that he’s lost in his own little world. [break][break]
Suddenly he speaks again. “Emily saved us. She saved us all.” It was Emily who had allowed him to marry Victoria in the first place. You want to say something, but it seems like the wrong time. Silence continues, leaving you feeling rather strange about the whole ordeal. Is there more to the story? Is there more about Emily that he hasn’t told you? “Now, she’s…” He gulps. “Gone.” He breathed as he lifted the glass container and the butterfly started to fly around the room. He pushed open the door to the terrace. “Gone.” [break][break]
He doesn’t know who he is any longer. The man with the bony fingers and dark hair that appeared in Wonderland without a memory. It doesn’t bother him, not remembering. He thinks there is nothing to remember. Who was he before he was Victor Van Dort? [break][break]
“That’ll be…Well, if you add it all together…I’ll just take…” Victor runs his hands through his hair as the patron pushes a few dollars his way. “Yes, that’s lovely. Thank you.” His little artistry shop is nothing out of the ordinary. He paints, plays the piano and sells both his artwork and sheet music, none of which he considers very good. He spends most of his time quietly contemplating the world of Wonderland. Married to Victoria Van Dort, he can’t help but wonder if something is missing. Not that he would know if it were, considering he can’t remember entirely anything before five months ago. Is something is gone? [break][break]
[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY
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