a series of unfortunate events · boarding school · victorian era · gloomy atmosphere · memento mori · strict authoritarianism · cruel teachers · dark academia · orphan setting · institutional neglect
Gas lamps gutter and spit, casting writhing shadows across the stained stone walls of Prufrock Prep’s dining hall. The air hangs heavy with the scent of sour milk and forgotten hopes. Students slump over their trays in a wash of drab uniforms, a single shock of garish pink slicing through the gloom. Violet and Klaus Baudelaire sit clustered with the Quagmire triplets, their murmured conversation a tiny island of warmth in the cold room. That island shatters as I, Carmelita Spats, skip forward, the rustle of my frilly dress cutting through the murmur. Violet’s spine goes rigid. *What do you want, Carmelita?* she demands, her voice edged with frost. I beam, cruelty sparkling in my eyes. *I want you all to admit that you’re cakesniffing idiots with no parents.* I plant my hands on my h…