[29] [Original] untitled
Title: untitled
Theme: 29, 'meanwhile the statues are bleeding green'
Series: Original
Characters/Pairing: Thomhas Gregroir Delvewood, Uncle Ascot
Rating: PG
Tom sat there, sipping his tea quietly. He supposed he was glad for once for some peace and quiet. After all, it was hardly every day that the wealthy, a million servants at his disposal, young lord got a chance to loll about in the spring sunshine.
Okay, so maybe it was every fourth day or so, especially with what had been recently going on, with all this ruckus about elephants falling from the sky and dead people popping up in people's gardens.
Especially his garden.
Thomhas Gregroir Delvewood the third sighed and took a sip of his Earl Grey tea again, squeezing the lemon slice until a ghost popped out of nowhere.
"You know, I always thought tea tasted better with a slice of pineapple. Never lemon," the ghost sighed heavily, though his sigh was less substantial than Tom's was because of obvious reasons.
Tom replied in turn with his sigh, placing his teacup with a clink on it's matching, beflowered saucer. "You, my friend, had the oddest tastes. I distinctly recall you personally recounting in earnest that anitfreeze made the best icing on top of cakes. It's through your own weird tastes you died."
"I keep on telling you," the ghost waved his hands in a chanelling motion, chopping (almost) through the air. "It was the maid who put the antifreeze there. It was through no fault of my own I assure you." He sat back in his chair self-assuredly, knee crossed over the other and his dark waistcoat gleaming with self confidence.
"Uncle Ascot," Tom's forehead was comforted by his hand momentarily before it introduced the tea biscuit to his mouth, "you specifically asked Lucinda to pour some of the blue liquid onto your fruit cake. Anyway, how you came to die isn't what I want to talk about at all. It's rather the business of why you're here still and why elephants are falling from the sky and the statues are walking around moaning." He gestured with his teacup to the gardens.
One could say there was nothing particularly odd about the young lord's gardens, possibly that it was slightly fragrant for a ornamental garden (it had too many fruit trees) and that it was perhaps odd that the statues kept ducking out of sight as they ducked, moaning, behind the aforementioned fruit trees which were trimmed into delightful shapes such as a flamingo and Goliath.
No, on second glance that was a statue. Rather verdegris'd to be sure but...
"Oh! That's easy to explain. It's because I have the ear of the prime minister sonny!" Uncle Ascot tapped his ear and pulled on his tie. "The statues are moaning because they're bleeding!"
He beamed brightly at his living acquaintance and relative.
"And?" Thomhas' hand waved elaborately in the air, urging to him continue.
"What? That's what you wanted to know, right?" The man beamed at him with an air of self-righteousness, curly white wig bobbing.
"Not just that. I want to know why you're still hanging around and why elephants are falling from the sky." His teacup met the saucer with a loud clash, running his rather tea-soaked hand through his dark hair in a sign of frustration.
"Oh, that's easy." Ascot perked up, looking brighter. "It's because you, the current lord of the house, insists upon having lemon in your tea."
He ducked as the lemon slice was chucked at his head.