August Whodunit: Royal Flush

Bellflowers and Lilies

Lilith Cox was sitting squat in the middle of the field, under the jacaranda tree. She was surrounded by all sorts of flowers, most of them being purple, naturally. She wouldn't have it any other way of course, and neither would her little helpers, the Azaleas, as she liked to call them. They existed all around you if you simply knew where to look. On her right, grouped together was a bunch of bell-flowers, balloon flowers, alliums, and poppies among others. On her left, you could spot  dwarf irises, foxgloves, lisianthuses and bluebells. She absolutely adored her flower garden. She was humming to a song, staring up at the sky. The clouds were rather dashing today, if she could say so herself. It was a pity no piggies were waltzing with them today.

In her hand was a daisy, she felt like a little girl again, picking off the petals one by one, letting nature decide her course of action. Of course, it wasn't a debate on whether someone loved her or not, but rather whether she would go to a party hosted by a certain someone this weekend.

''He wants me; he wants me not.... he wants me; he wants me not''

She watched as the last petal fell to the ground and cocked her head to the side.

''Huh. He doesn't want me to go there. Well, all the more reason to drop by for a little visit. Delilah Black, happy 50th old friend, because you won't know what hit you.''

---------------------------------------------------

When Lily Cox first arrived at the manor, she wasn't going to lie, it was pretty hard. This place brought back a shit ton of memories, and whilst some might have been pleasant once upon a time, the ones forever engraved into her soul were anything but.

Pushing that aside, the first encounter with Delilah Black that day had gone pretty well, awkward at first, but not too shabby nevertheless, considering who was present.

Lily thought back on the events of the day. Seeing all those familiar faces gathered together in the same place for the same occasion, and for none other than Delilah Black no less,  had been... interesting, for starters. She had greatly missed the little yellow piggies. The actual human beings with two legs and eyes... not so much. Not all anyway. It was greatly amusing to see some of them fight like little children in a playground. She often wondered why Delilah insisted on keeping them around. ''People are wrinkles in the world of chess and muffins'' he used to say. Well. It might not have been those exact words but  potato tomato.

Lilith Lily of the Cox decided that she needed to get the edge off tonight. It was the first day here, and she would need a hell of a lot of liquid luck to get her through her whole stay. She had had time to unpack one of her luggage, but the rest were all over the place. She had organized each of her bags by shades of color. In one you could find lilac, in the next violet, and so on and so on. Hmm, she knew just the place to go tonight, and she could fetch some of the lovely cookies she had met downstairs to come with her. But first, a cute little flying muffin was calling her name. 

The bar was quite... interesting.  It seemed all the flies of the week were getting blown off tonight. Or well blown down too.  Layers of wine bottles, liquor, vodka, and well... any drink really as long it was alcoholic decorated the wall. She thought she heard someone holler her name, and turned to look for the source of the voice. And what a mistake that was, for the next thing she knew some goofball bumped into her, causing her to spill her drink all over herself. It might have been the wall. But she could've sworn the wall wasn't there a second ago. Well great. This was fantastic, just peachy actually. She scowled, her blue blood boiling.

''Watch where you're going you pesky wall. Look what you did, you made me spill my drink all over my dress. People these days, they just poop a wall squat next to a door.''

''Me? Mate you might wanna look in the mirror because I did you a favor''

The wall didn't really talk back. It was a wall after all, and walls couldn't talk of course. It was just that annoying little voice in her head. What was it called again... A conscience? No that wasn't right. Who even had consciences these days? She let out a strange squeal that might've been a laugh, but oddly enough also sounded like a banshee in bed crying out Bloody murder. Not that she had experience with those of course. She'd never kill a poor Banshee. Not in bed of course, why the poor sheets would get all dirty.

She gave her hair a flip, before heading to the bar, plopping on a stool. There she spotted the familiar chocolate chip cookie. Her lips quirked upward. That is, until she saw the company he held.

''Robert, how wonderful to see you dahling. I see you've err brought company. How marvelous, it's always a pleasure Alan dear.''

And so went the night. She started by patting down her dress with a napkin, wishing the wine stain to go away, but she knew better. Her dress was as good as dead now. She couldn't believe she dropped her drink on it. She, of course, blamed the stranger fully, for he bumped into her, therefore technically, it was him who dropped her drink on her, and not her who dropped her drink on her. Simple really. Anna had joined them after a while, shifting Robert's attention to her. That guy would flirt with a cactus if he encountered one. Alan had gotten a phone call at some point, excusing himself for the night. Lily thought he just wanted an excuse to leave, but whatever rowed his boat and made the waters swirl was fine by her. She started dozing off, after getting a call from her dear old mum, she just felt moppy and bad about her dress, mumbling incoherent words here and there.

''Little wonker killed my dress. My poor dear purple dress is now dead, I good as anything killed it. Hmpf. I don't even deserve to be here, I- hiccup urge to kill hiccup me self.''

It was nothing a few extra shots of vodka couldn't fix though, and that's what she very well did. Until the call of course. The call that changed everything and turned their night upside down. The call announcing Delilah Black's death.