Soldier, Poet, King

Chapter 17, Pt. I: La Vie en Rose

The backs of your ankles hit your stool as you kick your feet, listening intently to Archie's enthralling story. Her eyes are wide with excitement as she relives her adventures from when she was a member of the snake cult. Obnoxious as she can be sometimes, she's an entertaining storyteller. The corner of your lips tug upwards with a smile as she recounts her tale of being swallowed whole by a python with vivid detail. Whether or not you believe any of what she's saying you have yet to decide.

"I'm inside a snake, man! I'm inside of a fucking snake. Snake guts all around me and the only air left to breath is what I have in my lungs. And I'm all like, feel like a snake, move like a snake, just be the snake, bro! So I'm in there, right, and that's when I take my knife out and I just stab the fucker!" She pulls her knife from its sheath and drives it down into the table in front of her, "I'm carving myself an escape out from the inside, and at this point I've got no air left to breathe so shit's gettin' dicey. And then I go raaah! Blood everywhere, dead little rat bits all up in my face and shit. And then I crawl out of this snake's stomach and see the rest of the snake cult standing all around and they're like, 'Surprise!' because it was my birthday!"

You feel a nudge against your knee and look up to see Wee John squinting down at you. As he studies your face his hands continue to work, knitting without needing to watch what he's doing. I know he can't actually read my mind just by staring at me with those big owl eyes of his but it sure as hell feels like it.

"Yer smilier than usual."

"Ah, you know me well," Rolling your eyes, "I just really love a good snake story."

"...If you've never tasted spitroasted snake before, you are seriously missing out. There's something truly magical about the sizzle of venom dripping over hot coals as it barbeques, and the smell? Ah!" Archie carries on with her ramble, "So, uhm... Wh-What do you guys do for fun around here? Big party group or more of a caj get-together thing?"

"Yeah, kiddo, what do we do for fun around here?"

"Hey, I threw us a party, remember?"

"Yeah, but we weren't there." Oluwande chimes in, jutting his chin out towards Roach and Frenchie.

"Because you guys were quite literally burning down that Aristocrat's thing."

"You what?" Wee John nearly drops his knitting with how angrily he slams down his hands, "You guys committed arson without me? You know that's my favourite thing to commit!"

"O-Oh yeah, we- uh- we rage." Roach cuts in, wanting to fix the Wee John derailment.

"I thought I was pickin' up rager vibes from you guys, I'm glad I was right."

"Y-Yeah, we fuckin' rage from morning all the way til night and then we rage some more until it's morning again."

"Heavy on the rage."

"Do we...?" Fang looks around the room over the rim of his teacup, "I haven't crawled out of a snake in years..."

"Yeah, guys, it has been kind of slow around here. I mean last night all we did was rearrange the furniture."

"Yeah, well, improvement of the flow is undeniable," Wee Johns snaps back at Jim, feeling defensive as the movement of furniture was his idea, "Just take a look around, I think the place speaks for itself."

"It does feel considerably more spacious in here."

"Thank you, kiddo."

"Flow or no flow, what's also undeniable is that we've become a bit boring haven't we?"

"Well then, it is a happy coincidence that today of all days is Calypso's birthday!" Frenchie rests his hands on the galley counter behind the table. Soap and suds are sprinkled all down his front from having done the dishes. His eyebrows twitch upwards as he looks at you. Oh, got it.