Sleepy Bois Inc. Ghost AU

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 11

"-And that's why I, Detective Tubbo, are on the case!" Tubbo waved his magnifying glass in the air, swishing a cape behind him for some dramatic flare. Tommy was in literal stitches, he did not expect his best friend to adapt a Sherlock Homes persona and become a detective. "Yo-You haven't even told me what you're investigating, Big man." Tommy said between giggles. Tubbo took out a notepad from his coat pocket, beginning to scribble on it in fancy-ish writing. "I will interview our ghostly friends and find out more about the dead. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Tommy. Maybe I could use this information to one day become President of Britain or something."

Tommy just kept laughing as his older friend paced the living room. "President of Britain? First of all it's prime minister. And second of all, that's a very big stretch. I doubt they'd just hand the leadership over to you cause you know about the afterlife." Tubbo pouted, throwing his notepad in Tommy's face to shut him up. "Let me dream big, Mr. TommyInnit." Tubbo replied in a mocking tone, earning a scoff from the younger, "That's Sir TommyInnit to you, Tubzo."

Tubbo took the notepad back from Tommy, taking a seat next to him as he began to write down. "We will start with the all knowing Phil, he will be a great interview candidate." He jumped up from the couch, yanking Tommy up with him. "Jesus christ! Warn me next time! How are we even going to find him, normally they're the ones who come find us." The ability to phase through walls seems to come in handy when looking for someone, but only for the ghosts. "He lives in the attic." Well nevermind then.

Tommy and Tubbo made their way from the living room to the attic. Tubbo quoted Shakespear the entire way there; wrong guy but he has the energy. Tommy went up first, pulling up Tubbo with him and closing the door so they wouldn't fall down and break their bones or something. There was a window on the right side, the sun glaring down and illuminating the wooden floor beneath the three of them. There was a slight green hue next to the window, he sat crossed legged and stared out at the garden beneath him. It was hard to make out between the sun but if you squinted you could definitely tell.

"Good morning, Phil." Tubbo smiled, moving to sit down on the left to Phil, Tommy soon joining and sitting on Phil's right. "Oh shit. Sorry, I didn't expect you to be up this early." Phil jumped slightly as he noticed the two boys.  "Why are you just staring out a window? Is being dead that boring?" Tommy asked, resting his chin on his pulled up knees. "Techno's gardening, just making sure he doesn't hurt someone. Wilbur has been encouraging us to take up a hobby for weeks, so I've been learning chess and Techno is doing some gardening. It appears as if we can interact with smaller items without exerting too much energy, it makes moving around the little chess pieces a lot easier." Phil explained, rambling on further about Wilbur's songs and Techno's new obsession with potatoes.

Tubbo then started with his questions. Ranging from everything like his age to the last time he had a shower (a very weird question I'm aware.) "Okay okay, so this is what I've got so far. Tommy you fact-check it." Tubbo said as he passed his notepad to Tommy and read it aloud with his own little quips;

Name: Phil Watson
Age: Atleast 30
Favourite hobby: Chess
Favourite colour: Dark green
Poggers: this isn't a question tubbo
Are you drunk: Probably
Favourite thing to cook: Cooked dinner
Notes: The ghosts can touch stuff more. Phil is able to move chess pieces easily.

"Yeah I think this is enough for now. Shall we move onto the next one?" Tommy passed the notepad back, "Good idea partne'."
"So now you're a cowboy?" All three of them began to laugh. "I have more questions later, Phil, so don't get too comftorable!" Tubbo waved goodbye to his ghostly dad, the two young boys crawling back down and making their way to Technoblade.

Phil let out a soft sigh as soon as they boys left. His smile slightly faltered, standing up to move his way to a small bookshelf behind his bed. Different books filled the shelf, about 12 in total. Phil pushed about half of them to the side, moving to pick up 5 of the dusty books. Unlike the other 7, these books didn't have any cool cover image or fancy writing for it's title. The only way to differentiate them was the contents of the books and a title lazily wrote on a piece of paper and stuck onto the middle of the book cover.

Technoblade. Wilbur. Memories. Theories. Tommy & Tubbo.

Five books with five obscure titles. He was focused on the fourth one, the one titled 'Theories'. Phil is a thinker. He needs answers to everything. It's a flaw as much as it is his personality. So when he died and was chucked into this mystery house with two semi-familar men with zero clues or answers, he decided to gather all his thoughts in the only way he knew how; books. He flicked through the pages, refreshing his mind with all his past theories and evidence. The book was starting to fill up, he may need to continue his studies in a 2nd book. He grabbed a random nearby pen and began to write;

Today Tommy and Tubbo visited me early in the morning. I think they were pretending to be Sherlock Homes or something, they just asked me a bunch of random questions. But it did get me thinking. Why can I only remember certain things about myself? I remember my name, age I died, favourite colour, favourite food - all pretty normal things. Why can't I remember who they are or how I got here but I know what my favourite fucking animal is???

I'm getting too angry. I'm just a bit upset is all I suppose. I just want some answers for God sake. I've come to terms with the fact I'm stuck in this house for eternity, why can't the universe just give me some answers? I think I'm going to get some sleep, I'll update my research when I wake up.

"TECHNOBLADE! YOU GARDENING, BRUV?" Tommy screeched, seeing as Techno turned to glare at the blonde boy. "What now? I'm trying to do some gardening." He grumbled in his monotone voice, dropping the hoe down and allowing himself to sit down on a nearby bench. "I, Detective Tubbo 'Sherlock' Homes, have a few questions to ask of you." Tubbo said in a dramatic voice, taking a seat next to the pink haired boy. "That is a shit name, Tubbo."

Name: Technoblade
Real Name: Technoblade
Age: 21 I think
Favourite hobby: Stabbing orphans not a real hobby
Favourite colour: Pink duh
Are you drunk: What
Favourite thing to cook: Microwaveable ramen
What do you remember: Too personal
Notes: Very scary. Does not like questions about himself, just ask about orphans or potatoes next time.

After a few notes from Tommy, the two young boys set off and away from a pissed off Technoblade. He returned to his farming as they went up to Wilbur's room.

They seem to have walked in at a weird time as Wilbur immediately stopped playing and hid the music sheets from the two boys. "Oh shit. Knock next time!" Wilbur shouted, placing the music sheets on a high shelf. "What'cha tryna hide, Wilbur?" Tommy smirked, trying to reach up and grab the sheets. "I'll tell you when you're older." Tommy pouted, starting to shout about how he is old enough.

"Anyway Wilbur, do you mind if I and my partner ask you some questions?"

Name: Wilbur Soot
Real Name: William Gold (no idea why he changed it.)
Age: Mid 20s
Favourite hobby: music man
Favourte colour: Yellow
Are you drunk: Constantly
Favourite thing to cook: Anything with Techno or Phil.
What do you remember: Not much haha. I used to be in a band though.
Notes: Music man go brrr. Very cool dude, taught me ukulele chords. Very easy to approach.

And with that, all three ghosts had been interviewed and questioned. "Has your detective quench been fufilled?" Tommy asked his friend, the two of them now sitting in the kitchen. "I don't even know what that word means but yes. I shall continue my more, in depth, questions tommorow. Now, Sir. TommyInnit, would you like to go stream some block games?"