Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Ballad of Mona Lisa
Say What You Mean
1 review“I'd say it was more frightening. If we had known there was so much less of you under there us men wouldn't be so scared of women!”
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The next morning Blanche rose with a headache and surprising desire for a strong drink, or two. She had stayed up late last night with the ghost trying to find a way to help him. Little progress was made and she often found herself slightly annoyed at the flightiness of his concentration. Perhaps it was because he had no physical substance? Somehow she doubted that was the cause.
All she hoped for today was to get through it without having to see Mary for one, and without anyone thinking she was insane for speaking to a man who wasn't there for two. Speaking of which...
“Where is that spirit anyway?” She muttered to herself as she tightened her corset. “Sorry, what?”
She let out a squeal as he materialized in her room, lounging in the chair near her fire place. “HOW DARE YOU! GET OUT!” He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her outburst. “What's wrong? It's not like you're naked!”
She opened her mouth to reply when he nodded pointedly at her. She looked down and understood his point. There was not one inch of skin showing that shouldn't with all the undergarments she had on already. It was just the though that the clothes she was wearing were undergarments that bothered her. She huffed in defeat and gave the lacings on her corset one final tug. She had not taken to the fashion of many modern and adventurous women wearing corsets on the outside of their dresses; it just didn't seem right to her. “Could you at least look away while I'm finishing?” He nodded in response and directed his eyes in the opposite direction. She absently wondered how much more annoying he would be in the flesh.
She reached behind her for her bustle but accidently knocked it off the table instead. He spun around at the sound and gasped in surprise as she secured the wire cage to her rump. “So THAT'S what you women have going on under there!” He whistled in astonishment before chuckling.
“What?” She snapped irritably. He raised his pale hands defensively, “Nothing, it's just... well... why?” Her eyes narrowed in impatience, “Why what?” He gulped before he answered, “Why all the pulleys and stage tricks? You women tend to have good enough bodies... why all the hassle, pain, and fuss?”
At first she was annoyed at this but that disappeared when she saw that he was sincere. “I don't know... I suppose us women thought it was appealing to the opposite gender,” she replied.
“Appealing?” He laughed. “I'd say it was more frightening. If we had known there was so much less of you under there us men wouldn't be so scared of women!” He rose from the chair and came a step closer, “Besides, the figure God gave you is so much more flattering.” She blushed deeply at this while he just stood there smiling foolishly.
“I never did like these things...” She took the bustle off and tossed it across the room. “Turn around and let me finish getting dressed.” He did as he was told and she moved to her closet. “Let me see...” She muttered as she searched through the skirts. “Ah!” She pulled out a dark green skirt with black trim and a pretty lace blouse. “This will do,” she said triumphantly.
She had chosen that specific skirt because it did not need a bustle, it was a skirt she had made specifically for enjoying a day of leisure free from the constricting fashions of Paris and New York. She would have to have more like it made now that she knew that men did not in fact like bustles.
“Ready!” She announced. He turned around and smiled at her appearance. “Much better,” he said. She blushed again as she did a little twirl to show off her newly discovered figure. She stopped her spin and started for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and looked back expectantly at him, “Shall we go greet your body at the station?” His smile fell but he nodded in determination, “Lets.”
-
Blanche stood next to Crackitus as they waited for all the crates to be unloaded from the train. “Shouldn't Mary be here?” She asked. Crackitus nodded once and replied without taking his eyes off of the workers, “She should, but I haven't seen her since last night.”
“Oh,” Blanche looked back at Brennan who stood close behind her. If anything, he looked relieved that his murderer wasn't there to greet his body. If the rumors were true, he didn't want her anywhere near him. Blanche understood this and looked back to the older man next to her. “So who else do you have to help prepare his body?”
“No one, as of yet,” he said. “I would ask the Lady Potts but she's already busy with the preparations for the wake that I don't want to burden her more.”
“Well, perhaps I could help?” She heard a sound of surprise from behind her, she had not consulted Brennan about this. “Yes, that would be a blessing to us. Thank you so much for the offer,” Crackitus smiled fondly at her before he directed his attention to a coffin that was being lowered onto the platform. He frowned in confusion as he noticed none of the workers seemed to be disturbed by the smell. It wasn't until he got close that he noticed in shock that there was no smell.
Blanche looked back at the spirit and saw only a look of intense gratitude on his pale face. She smiled at him before she turned to join the inventor. “What's wrong?” She asked as she saw a frown of confusion on his face as he studied a note that had been tacked to the coffin.
Wordlessly he handed the paper to her and she read:
Mr. Potts,
It has been my privilege to see to the delivery of your nephew's body. Again, I express my sincerest condolences to your family. There is, however, something that must be brought to your attention. There are strange attributes about the late Brennan. His body, quite frankly, is not showing any signs of rot, rigamortis or any other signs of the death of the flesh. All that is missing is his heartbeat. You must also know that although the reports state that he died from a slit throat, there was not present the expected amount of blood that would come from such a wound. There was little blood at all. I do not know if this is something of science that I do not know of, but I fear that the paranormal might be involved. These are all the known facts in regards to the boy. I look forward to seeing you again on your next visit to Chicago.
Sincerely,
Mr. Anderson Crowly, Crowly Bros. And Co.
She had made sure to hold the note out so Brennan could read it over her shoulder and they both raised their eyebrows in surprise. A large crack sounded off and she looked up to see Crackitus unceremoniously opening the casket with a crow bar. He removed the lid and took a step back to better see the contents. “Well, I'll be damned...”
All she hoped for today was to get through it without having to see Mary for one, and without anyone thinking she was insane for speaking to a man who wasn't there for two. Speaking of which...
“Where is that spirit anyway?” She muttered to herself as she tightened her corset. “Sorry, what?”
She let out a squeal as he materialized in her room, lounging in the chair near her fire place. “HOW DARE YOU! GET OUT!” He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her outburst. “What's wrong? It's not like you're naked!”
She opened her mouth to reply when he nodded pointedly at her. She looked down and understood his point. There was not one inch of skin showing that shouldn't with all the undergarments she had on already. It was just the though that the clothes she was wearing were undergarments that bothered her. She huffed in defeat and gave the lacings on her corset one final tug. She had not taken to the fashion of many modern and adventurous women wearing corsets on the outside of their dresses; it just didn't seem right to her. “Could you at least look away while I'm finishing?” He nodded in response and directed his eyes in the opposite direction. She absently wondered how much more annoying he would be in the flesh.
She reached behind her for her bustle but accidently knocked it off the table instead. He spun around at the sound and gasped in surprise as she secured the wire cage to her rump. “So THAT'S what you women have going on under there!” He whistled in astonishment before chuckling.
“What?” She snapped irritably. He raised his pale hands defensively, “Nothing, it's just... well... why?” Her eyes narrowed in impatience, “Why what?” He gulped before he answered, “Why all the pulleys and stage tricks? You women tend to have good enough bodies... why all the hassle, pain, and fuss?”
At first she was annoyed at this but that disappeared when she saw that he was sincere. “I don't know... I suppose us women thought it was appealing to the opposite gender,” she replied.
“Appealing?” He laughed. “I'd say it was more frightening. If we had known there was so much less of you under there us men wouldn't be so scared of women!” He rose from the chair and came a step closer, “Besides, the figure God gave you is so much more flattering.” She blushed deeply at this while he just stood there smiling foolishly.
“I never did like these things...” She took the bustle off and tossed it across the room. “Turn around and let me finish getting dressed.” He did as he was told and she moved to her closet. “Let me see...” She muttered as she searched through the skirts. “Ah!” She pulled out a dark green skirt with black trim and a pretty lace blouse. “This will do,” she said triumphantly.
She had chosen that specific skirt because it did not need a bustle, it was a skirt she had made specifically for enjoying a day of leisure free from the constricting fashions of Paris and New York. She would have to have more like it made now that she knew that men did not in fact like bustles.
“Ready!” She announced. He turned around and smiled at her appearance. “Much better,” he said. She blushed again as she did a little twirl to show off her newly discovered figure. She stopped her spin and started for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and looked back expectantly at him, “Shall we go greet your body at the station?” His smile fell but he nodded in determination, “Lets.”
-
Blanche stood next to Crackitus as they waited for all the crates to be unloaded from the train. “Shouldn't Mary be here?” She asked. Crackitus nodded once and replied without taking his eyes off of the workers, “She should, but I haven't seen her since last night.”
“Oh,” Blanche looked back at Brennan who stood close behind her. If anything, he looked relieved that his murderer wasn't there to greet his body. If the rumors were true, he didn't want her anywhere near him. Blanche understood this and looked back to the older man next to her. “So who else do you have to help prepare his body?”
“No one, as of yet,” he said. “I would ask the Lady Potts but she's already busy with the preparations for the wake that I don't want to burden her more.”
“Well, perhaps I could help?” She heard a sound of surprise from behind her, she had not consulted Brennan about this. “Yes, that would be a blessing to us. Thank you so much for the offer,” Crackitus smiled fondly at her before he directed his attention to a coffin that was being lowered onto the platform. He frowned in confusion as he noticed none of the workers seemed to be disturbed by the smell. It wasn't until he got close that he noticed in shock that there was no smell.
Blanche looked back at the spirit and saw only a look of intense gratitude on his pale face. She smiled at him before she turned to join the inventor. “What's wrong?” She asked as she saw a frown of confusion on his face as he studied a note that had been tacked to the coffin.
Wordlessly he handed the paper to her and she read:
Mr. Potts,
It has been my privilege to see to the delivery of your nephew's body. Again, I express my sincerest condolences to your family. There is, however, something that must be brought to your attention. There are strange attributes about the late Brennan. His body, quite frankly, is not showing any signs of rot, rigamortis or any other signs of the death of the flesh. All that is missing is his heartbeat. You must also know that although the reports state that he died from a slit throat, there was not present the expected amount of blood that would come from such a wound. There was little blood at all. I do not know if this is something of science that I do not know of, but I fear that the paranormal might be involved. These are all the known facts in regards to the boy. I look forward to seeing you again on your next visit to Chicago.
Sincerely,
Mr. Anderson Crowly, Crowly Bros. And Co.
She had made sure to hold the note out so Brennan could read it over her shoulder and they both raised their eyebrows in surprise. A large crack sounded off and she looked up to see Crackitus unceremoniously opening the casket with a crow bar. He removed the lid and took a step back to better see the contents. “Well, I'll be damned...”
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