12 - Coming full circle

[lolitics_meme]

Dearest Anons,

In five days (on May 8, 2011) this meme will have existed for a whole year.

It is an extraordinary achievement, your extraordinary achievement, to have kept this going well and alive for so long. With thousands of fics and comments, this meme is one of (if not the) most amazing thing I've ever come across. Not only the amount of fic

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Fill: Hattie and the Pirates of Dodrago Cove, part 2b

[anonymous]

“How cruel and unusual,” Tony said. “Why did Gordon lock you away? Did you misbehave?”

“Not at all,” Cook-a-Robin snickered, sticking out his bearded chin. “But I want to be free to fish and wander and chase away pesky pheasants and herons as it were my job to do before my incarceration.”

“Would Gordon be angry if I free you?”

“Perhaps,” the gnome said carefully, putting emphasis on both syllables of the word. “But how can I fulfil my job locked away?” Tony nodded and got to his feet, feeling for the latch of the aviary door.

“There is a courtyard not far from here, and Dr Brown’s study looks down on it,” he said. “And in that courtyard is a crystal wishing pool, sunken into the ground. It glitters with copper coins and is filled with exotic ornamental carp.”

“Carp, you say?” Cook-a-Robin licked the lop-sided corner of his lips.

“Yes. But you mustn’t let Dr Brown catch you fishing there or he’ll hang you by the ankles from the weathervane for a fortnight.”

“Very well, very well! I won’t let him catch me!” The door sprung open and the gnome tumbled out, dusting down his tunic. He peered around, gave Tony a short salute and disappeared into the flora. Tony leaned back against a flowerpot and stared up at the domed ceiling, held with the spiderweb of straits and bolts. Another dragonfly buzzed at the roof and disappeared again like a shadow puppet, wings rattling for an instant against the glass.

“OUCH!”

Something enormous had caught his left arm in a vice-like grip and was crushing it with brute force. He tugged and pulled, but couldn’t work himself free. Swinging round, he found himself face-to-face with a monstrous Venus fly-trap, one fanged mouthpart jammed shut around his shirtsleeve. Its dark tendrils were waving furiously, and it seemed to be hissing from the heart of the flowerpot.

“Geroff! I’m master of Rosse Hall! I own you!” He strained against the hold, pulling with all his strength, but the flowerpot was just too huge and heavy to tip. His desperate fingers found something rough and hard, and closed around it. A rake. He swung it, and the prongs sunk into tissue. The plant screeched and he felt the grip slip for half a second. He dragged the rake downwards, shredding fibres from the body of the plant. It went limp, and he fell to the cool paving. The rake was still hanging from the fly-trap and its tendrils were flailing. Tony gathered his breaths back and clambered to his feet. He waggled a finger at the fly-trap.

“Serves you right.” He untangled the tassels that hung from the hem of his mustard yellow waistcoat, and paced away, careful to keep a safe distance from the largest pots.