The three of you get situated with your individual hands of cards once again.
Within minutes, you gesture for Chesty to hand off your flask. He complies with a dopey smile.
You murmur to the small item, "let's get drunk."
The quality beer that was inside of the enchanted item swiftly becomes a deep, rich, caramel brown whiskey. The aroma is so excellent, Serpent stops scrutinizing his cards for a minute to check out what you're doing.
"Richard, what are you doing?"
Swirling your flask, you watch as little webs of liquor cling to the side of its interior. It feels cruel to scold the beloved object, but you need to be clear. "You
don't understand. Get me utterly..." The whiskey shifts to a clear liquor. "...
absolutely..." The potato liquor becomes a black-as-sin, watery thin brew you and Father Pevrel love to share. "...COMPLETELY..." The rotgut swirls for several moments, shifting into some familiar concoction that Yech gave to you during your first meeting. "...and
thoroughly fucked up."
The flask settles on a light pink, apple-smelling beverage. It's your favorite drink that Yech once made for you. You could cry you're so happy, and eagerly take a mouthful.
It's shockingly cold. So much so that it utterly masks just how much alcohol there is in the drink. The texture is a thick slurry of ice and inebriation that instantly gets your head lighter and your body warmer. For something to affect a man your size
at all so quickly would probably kill your friends, in their current state.
You know what you have to do.
Serpent starts laughing as you knock back the flask and chug to your heart's content. Nothing else in the world matters, for just a little while.
You smile so hard after a minute or so that you nearly lose some of the drink, and eventually have to pull away, breathlessly laughing. Serpent is in stitches.
"What?" You wipe at the side of your mouth. The room is practically spinning. You're incredibly red,
almost full, and couldn't feel cozier.
"You could have just asked us not to have any—!" Serpent clutches at his sides, wiping a tear from his eye.
You mutter to your flask, "beer."
Chesty has been patiently waiting for the card game to resume, but forgets all about it as he takes the flask back from you. It's once again filled with a sane, frothy, weaker drink. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." You fire a heated look at Serpent, but any choice words you could fire at him escape you in the moment. The fuzzy blanket wrapped around your mind tucks in the last of your inhibitions and puts your doubts to sleep.
You quietly resume the card game, barely able to follow the rules. It's still something you've never played before— the deck is one of a kind, and Serpent might be making the rules up as you're playing— so it's not long before you and Chesty are staring each other down as mutual losers, fighting not to burst into giggles.
"You first," Chesty says. "I need a sssecond to think 'bout what I'm gonna say."
"Alright." You lean slightly on the edge of the table. Both of your boys laugh and fight to keep the table from tilting over, until you realize what you're doing and sit upright again. "Sorry."
Serpent picks up the few cards that fluttered to the floor, kicking back more of your flask. He's the picture of smugness. "Nothing to be sorry for. Go on, then."
"Some of my own issues..." You muse, wondering where to begin. "I wasn't always like this, you know."
Most of Serpent's sarcasm and gloating falls off. He remains respectfully quiet while Chesty asks, "whaddyou mean?"
Your eyes flit to the flask. "It's not normal for me to blush from having a good drink. Don't panic, but I— I got cursed by a demon."
"You what?" Chesty blinks.
You sigh and take a deep breath. "
Cursed. Please don't panic. It's not something you can catch."
Serpent looks like he's ready to run, but he trusts you enough to stay seated. "What did it do?"
"I sort of— I told it that lust and gluttony were the lesser sins, in a bid to try and defend James and Harvey from getting cursed, too. It remade my image so that I... look like a lecher and glutton."
"Is
that why—" Serpent catches himself, and mumbles, "sorry."
"It's okay." You lean back in your chair, stretching and not giving a damn about your appearance. "If not for those
pesky demons, no one could resist me~"
Serpent starts throwing cards at you, cat-calling, "woooo~"
"Hey!" Chesty frowns, batting a bunch of the cards out of the air and completely missing the point of Serpent's teasing. "He wasn't so bad when we were in the capital—"
You give your best leer towards the wholesome young man. "Oh? And what's so
bad now?"
As soon as Chesty opens his mouth to reply, Serpent dives across the table and puts a hand to the heretic's mouth. You laugh louder than Serpent's insistence to Chesty that you were asking a rhetorical question, his explanation of what 'rhetorical' means, and the spy's insistence that Chesty needs to now tell his own fact and forget all about whatever it was that was so important.
"Good luck topping that," Chesty mumbles, still fighting to buy Time.
You chuckle to yourself. "It's not a content— not a— not a
contest."
"Go on,
Chesty," Serpent drawls, handing the flask off to you.
You blissfully work at more beer while starlight spins in the sky outside.
Chesty finally decides on something to say. He sounds hideously ashamed of himself.
"This one time, I helped a priest cheat on his wife."
"It's alright, Chesty," you murmur.
"It's really not, though. See, his wife had gotten old— and, well, so had he— but this was a priest of Flesh. He wouldn't settle for her, he wouldn't settle for any working women, and he wouldn't even settle for any old girl in town. He wanted a beautiful woman— but just for one night! Just to remember what it was like to feel young again."
"And you agreed to this?" Serpent asks.
"Well, yeah. I thought it was fucking hilarious."
All of you fight as hard as you can not to giggle.
"See?" Chesty says, pointing an accusing finger at you both. "Give me that." You hand your flask over to him. "Thanks. Anyways, one night, I snuck into their bedroom. He snuck out, with his gorgeous girl waiting at an inn down the road."
"No." Serpent can't believe it. His jaw hangs open. "You didn't."
Chesty nods grimly. "The pay was good— but..." He looks like a man sentenced to death. He whispers,
"she was better."
Serpent makes retching sounds. You laugh louder than his fake vomiting.
"The old man didn't know how good he had it!" Chesty has to yell to be heard over the commotion. "The whole night, I had to keep telling her— in my best impressssion of her husband— 'keep the lights off!' 'I don't want you to see my wrinkled old ass!'" He trails off, "'and all the rest..."
You lean across the table and pat the warrior on his back, unable to articulate all that you want to say. He gives you a grateful look. "Thanks, Richard."
Serpent is in a fit of hysterics. "Holy shit! And you didn't get caught?!"
All the life floods back into Chesty. "Me? Get caught?! Are you shittin' me? I snuck back out before the morning! She was none the wiser, and I was
all the richer!"
You all have to take several minutes to compose yourselves before the card game resumes. Serpent begrudgingly admits that Chesty's story was fair payment for the first round of cards, and Serpent is so distracted, he somehow manages to lose the second round.
"Mother
fucker! ...and I don't mean you, Chesty."
"Oh—" Chesty laughs despite himself. "Shove it!"
"I'd like to see you try!" He raises the little ridges where his eyebrows used to be at you. "Eh? And don't think I'm letting you go first with your crazy shit this time, either!"
You mime buttoning your lips shut, sinking deeply into the chair at your back. A small spasm in one of your arms barely registers to your dulled senses. It's been a long time since you drank this heavily, but you don't mind the old tic. It seems that neither of your friends notice either— or maybe they don't care.
The pain in you has died down so much that you're perfectly content to sit back and listen to Serpent rant.
"So I have four kinds of tattoos on me. The first comes from pricking the skin with ink." He rolls back one sleeve on his fine jacket, revealing a flock of birds that fly from his wrist up to his elbow. They disappear under the rest of his sleeve. "The second comes from chiseling away at the skin." He rolls down his sleeves and brings up one pant leg. On the back of his skinny, scar-laced calf is a deliberate, beautiful, symmetrical symbol. It reminds you of a flower and a knife at the same time. "The third comes from traditional scars. Richard, I'd be shocked if you didn't have a few of these." He looks to you expectantly.
You give a genuinely innocent look back. "I've never scarred myself intentionally."
Both of your boys blink several times.
"God damn," Chesty mutters.
"Language!" You give him a warning look.
"Sorry, sorry!"
"Anyways." Serpent turns around, so that the back of his head is visible to you both. "The last one is made from a different kind of scarring. You reopen the healing skin over and over again, until raised skin takes the shape that you want."
There's a small heart at the base of his skull. It's made out of mottled, raised flesh. There's a morbid kind of beauty to it.
Turning back around, Serpent says, "I don't do
any of them on my own."
"Seriously?" Chesty doesn't even look skeptical. He clearly just wants more information.
"That's all you're getting out of me. Richard, you're up."
"So, you wanted to meet my art teacher at some point. Right?"
"Yeah. I did. Why? He some kinda demon, too?"
You pause.
Serpent starts sweating and nervously laughs.
Chesty looks between the two of you, oblivious to what's going on.
You clear your throat. "Not necessarily."
Serpent takes a sharp breath in. "Richard..."
"Now, listen." You put both of your hands up, palms out, gently trying to ease your boys into this. "He is not a demon
anymore."
Chesty spits out his beer.
Serpent groans. "Awww, all over the cards..." While the three of you uselessly try mopping up the mess, Serpent fires a worried look at you. The full implications of what you just said are sinking in. His reality looks like it's about to unravel. "What do you mean,
anymore?"
"He's... well, even Spirit does not know what to make of him. He
was the demon of interpretation that placed this curse on me—"
Chesty had just gathered himself, and almost chokes on his beer. Serpent uselessly pats him on the back, asking in dismay, "
why would you be associating with this monster...?"
"He's actually quite a— quite a good boy." You still have your hands up, look to both of them, drop your arms, and sigh. "He's not the demon that he used to be. He is the
embodiment of Interpretation, now."
"The fuck—" Chesty takes in a deep breath. "—does that mean?"
You pause.
Serpent drags a hand down his face. "You don't know."
"He's like a son to me," you say.
Your boys look between each other and instantly get it.
"Oh," Serpent says.
"Oh," Chesty says.
The three of you resume your seating around the table, everyone shaking their heads and silently playing the card game. You try interjecting a few times with reasons about how Adwin is genuinely an upstanding young man, how talented he is, what promise he has as a fisherman, and all the rest, but your boys do not want to hear any of it.
Serpent finally throws his cards down to the table. "I'm too drunk for this shit. Promise me that you'll tell me another time, Richard? Preferably when I can start to understand how the fuck you turned a demon into something that's not?"
"I can do that." You file away the request in your mental repository of insane tasks appointed to you, and realize that you've actually won this round. "Oh. Would you look at that?"
Your smile is perfectly flipped in the two scowls across from you.
You ply your boys with more beer.
Their frowns abate, they wind up laughing, and eventually Chesty gets stuck with telling the first fact.
"So I killed a man with a sock, once."
You laugh, more impressed than anything. "What?"
Chesty is so flustered, he can barely talk. "Don't 'WHAT' me! After the shit you've been saying?!"
He breaks down in a fit of nervous laughter until Serpent convinces the man to continue.
Wiping at his eyes, Chesty says, "it wasn't nearly as exciting as it sounds. All I had to do was hold him down and shoved it halfway down his throat. He couldn't breathe or swallow, and died fast enough. Nearly bit my hand off, though."
Serpent doesn't even blink. "Did he deserve it?"
"Yeah." The killer barely blinks. "Not proud of it. Not something I'd go tellin' everyone. But there ya' go."
"Huh. Neat. You're next, Richard."
You're way too drunk to notice his ploy. "I've had a little bit of relationship troubles..."
Both of your boys lean towards you, either in too much disbelief or too curious to say a word.
You fidget with the collar of your shirt a little. It's way too hot in the tower. "Agriculture and I..."
"Wait, not Mercy?" Chesty looks you over. "I mean, it makes sense, but—"
Serpent gives you a knowing, sly grin. "Yooouuuuuu lucky son of a bitch, you. You didn't! I mean, of course you did. That's what—" He gestures a little to you, then thinks better of it. "—
this must be about. But how—"
"The trouble isn't with Mercy and I. Or with Agriculture and Mercy, for that matter. Mercy is alright with it."
Serpent all but collapses to the floor, slumping out of his chair with a sigh. "You
lucky son of a bitch."
"Well—" You look to the opposite wall sheepishly, way too drunk to keep fidgeting. "It's not exactly— it's not always roses. I mean, She is— literally and figuratively— but—"
Chesty actually looks seriously concerned. He gets it, but respectfully doesn't say a word, letting you get whatever you need to say off your chest.
"Agriculture... how do I put this? She put it to me bluntly, one time..."
Serpent manages to drag himself up from the floor, back into his seat. He's caught onto how worried Chesty looks, and quietly asks, "yeah?"
"She said to me, 'you could always be bigger.'"
"Ah." Chesty looks you over from head-to-toe quickly. "Oh."
"It's not that I've always been entirely opposed to it," you try.
Serpent is looking you over with unabashed scrutiny. "Mhm."
You can't be assed to care much right now about being judged, and laugh a little to yourself. "It's the stupidest thing. I wouldn't care at all if my ability to invoke Flesh was unimpeded. But now that I've gotten this fat, He won't even come to me."
Worry knits Serpent's brow. "Is this bitch trying to keep you all to Herself?"
It takes everything in your power, but you don't snap at your boy or beat him half to death. "Please be mindful of how you speak about Agriculture. We may have our disagreements, but I still love Her."
"Fine. You didn't answer the question, though."
You blink. "That's possibly the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. It's my choice when I invoke Her, and for what, and for how long—"
Both of your friends get a whole lot less concerned. They're more exasperated than anything.
"You got like this from invoking Agriculture so much and for so long, or from the demon?" Chesty looks legitimately confused.
"...this is the heaviest I've been in months, because of invoking Agriculture. But I— I haven't dropped much lower than what I was when you both saw me a few weeks back since— since I was cursed."
Serpent tents his fingers, wavering from intoxication as he stares you down. "Pretty fucked up that what She wants for you isn't much better than a demon."
You're trying very hard to stay respectful. "Serpent. I told the demon of interpretation a great deal of what they put on me, too."
"Doesn't change my point."
"She is what She
is—" You're raising your voice, but manage to scale it back. You run a hand through your hair, paying some heed to how exasperated Chesty looks. "I don't expect you to understand. But the Gods— They can't help but
be their nature. And I love Her all the more for that."
Serpent looks a little sickened. It might have everything or nothing to do with him being a heretic, but he doesn't seem to appreciate the information.
"You saved my life, Richard. Let me give you a tip about yours: this isn't good for you.
She isn't good for you."
"You're drunk," you drawl, utterly unable to stop talking, "and while I— I
appreciate how much you care— you don't get it. You don't know what it's like."
He shakes his head. "You love Her."
"I do."
"Bet you envision a long and happy life together, is that right?"
"I—" You get what he's getting at, and don't bother explaining how you want Agriculture to bear your children, about the countless happy memories that you've made together, the sacrifices that you've shared, how you have nearly died for Her time and time again and that She has been there for you through it
all.
"You're not going to have such a long life at your weight, Richard—"
Chesty firmly sets the flask down on the table. "I've heard enough about God shit and about you beating up Richard."
"I'm just worried about him, Chesty. For fuck's sake."
"Me too, but we're not gettin' anywhere. Let the man make his own decisions. Let's play some cards."
The three of you resume the game, making some small talk in the meantime. Chesty is so drunk that he can barely stay upright, but you and Serpent help him lose the game (which costs you the round as well).
By the time that you're resigned to defeat, Serpent is sitting in the chair directly beside you with an arm hanging around your shoulders. You've wrestled the flask away from him, and insist that you're the only one drinking for the rest of the night for his health.
"Youuu know I didn't mean anything by all of that, right, Richard?"
The very air might as well be made of beer.
"Right." You blissfully look to Chesty, who has fallen asleep sitting upright.
Serpent puts a finger to his lips, then carefully gathers up all of the cards. You watch with no small degree of amazement as your boy builds a house of cards perfectly around the perimeter of Chesty's body, complete with a small house of cards atop his head.
Standing back and admiring his masterpiece, Serpent takes only a moment of appreciation before whispering, "
Clarence."
In a rage, Chesty starts from his slumber. "Who said that...?!"
The house of cards comes tumbling down. The downfall of Serpent's work is truly a sight to behold. The small avalanche of colorful paper is dizzying, given how drunk you are, and it's so lovely that you find yourself disappointed when everything stops moving.
Chesty is now covered in little slips of illustrated paper. He tries not to laugh as Serpent comes over to help clean him up.
"You're up next, you big lug," Serpent says.
"Thanks for the wake-up call." Chesty yawns so loudly that it sets you off yawning, too.
"I was about to just let you sleep," you say.
"Nahh. I couldn't miss this." He grins at you goofily. "Let's seee... there was the first time Claymore saved my life. How's he doin', by the way?"
"Very well. He's running a smithy out of the heart of Eadric, with more apprentices than he knows what to do with. Last I saw him, he was making a suit of exotic platemail for Spangle. He called the material 'bleeding bronze.'"
"Well I'll be damned." Chesty's smile broadens. So does Serpent's, as he gets situated back in his seat.
"You know I've heard this story before, right?"
Chesty looks only a little crestfallen. "Does it not count?"
"We'll be up all night if you try to think of something else. Go on."
"Alright!" He perks right back up, obviously struggling to remember the details. "We were at the border, during one of our first Worship's at Sigbrooke. The snow was so deep, you could lose a demon in the drifts! We were on patrol, and there, in the dead of night, I saw a... what did he call it? An
apparition."
"A demon?" You ask.
"Not like any demon I'd ever seen before. It made the wind howl and took all the heat from your bones— like the usual—" You and Serpent both give understanding nods. "—but this one was a real menace. It was as clear as glass, as thin as a sheet, and glided on the wind without any wings. The shape it took when I finally settled eyes on the creature was like something outta my worst nightmares."
The mercenary shifts in place. You reluctantly hand off the flask to him. He quaffs some liquid courage before resuming the tale.
"I was rooted to the spot, and it took my mind away to a different place and a different Time. I saw a battlefield, where all the world had been stripped bare. There was no grass or trees. No women, no children, and no men of any kind. The wind itself had died. There were only demons. Demons in the sea. Demons on the ground. Demons in the sky, that blotted out the very sun. Something made me feel like all the Gods were dead."
You sit stock-still, not daring to interrupt.
"I came to with Claymore standing over my body. His sword was coated in fire, and he had driven back the creature for long enough for me to get my bearin's. I grabbed him and we both ran for our lives, all the way back to the base." Chesty lets out a long sigh of relief. "We never saw it again."
You take a deep breath. "This vision that you saw—"
"I dunno if it was some kind of madness it put on me or not, Father. I hadn't eaten in nearly a week— you know how bad the famine got— and it was damn cold. For all I know, I imagined the whole thing. But not the demon. I must have tried thanking Claymore one hundred times for saving my ass, and he's never had any of it."
Serpent leans towards Chesty with a smarmy grin. "You know he would have gone after that thing even if you weren't there. How else do you suppose he'd get his rocks off—"
Chesty picks up the cards from the table and flicks the entire deck towards Serpent's face. "Can't hear you! Richard's turn is up!"
"Stop it, Chesty—!"
Both men take a few minutes to wrap up their laughter and teasing before looking to you expectantly.
You leer. "One time, I upstaged an incubus."
"This is horse shit, Richard. You're basically cheating. No way." Serpent gives the face you're making one good look. "Okay, maybe. But how...? Do I even want to know why?"
"I was on a mission from Agriculture to offer atonement to any demon who sought it. Praxilyos— a demon of scintillation— was
and still is possibly my best shot at doing just that. He was a little— he was a little full of himself at first, so I knocked him down a few pegs. We spent some Time talking. Shared a few drinks. I gave him a back massage."
It looks like Serpent is about to lose his mind. You fight with all your power not to laugh.
"Nothing below the belt— not that he was wearing one, but—"
Your friends are staring at you slack-jawed again. Your leer intensifies.
"I left him wanting more.
Much more."
Both of your boys groan as you obviously are done with the story.
"You can't just leave us hanging," Serpent says.
"There's no way you did just that," Chesty pleads.
You cross your arms and try not to look too amused. "Something for you both to think about."
"Richard!" Chesty can barely sit upright. He lays back on the floor, laughing. "Come oooon."
The door to the tower opens. Father Wilhelm is back with two new nightcaps. One has little snakes on it. The other has little bears. He's also carrying a massive bouquet of flowers.
"Blessed be the night, everyone!"
You all scramble to clean up the cards, the few spills of beer, and to straighten yourselves out. Father Wilhelm couldn't look cheekier. The nightcap with little snakes is dropped unceremoniously onto Serpent's head. "I see you got here easily enough! Have a fun time?"
Serpent instantly rips off the nightcap after it's placed on his head. He registers the little snakes on the hat, obviously loves it half to death, and pockets the item discreetly. He must be making a herculean effort to mask his slur. "Fine. Thank you."
The nightcap with the little bears is dropped onto Chesty's head. Father Wilhelm says, "thank you again for your efforts, Chesty. Was everything alright?"
Your guard gives you an obvious wink, not even registering his new hat. You try not to groan.
"Fine, Father Wilhelm. Thanks."
The bouquet is placed on the table. It's obviously for you. Full flowers of ten different varieties comprise the gathering. They're in white, green, and yellow. It smells twice as good as it looks, providing some serious relief from the heady smell of beer and sweat on the air.
Your mentor places his hands in his pockets, looking around the tower. It's still intact. Nothing is on fire. The beer stains in the rug will probably come out.
"You should get some rest. I'm going to go run and let Father Pevrel know you'd like to see him in the morning—"
"How did you...?"
"Don't worry about it! I won't be more than a few minutes." Father Wilhelm looks to Serpent, who is wavering hard from intoxication. "You're welcome to stay the night."
The heretic bows his head slightly. "Thanks."
It only takes a moment for Father Wilhelm to excuse himself and to exit the tower completely.
Chesty and Serpent are already on the verge of sleep.
>A] Let your friends get their rest. You had a pretty damn fine day, all things considered, and will take this as a win.
>B] You're really bothered by the comments that Serpent made about...
>1] Agriculture. (Feel free to write-in why.)
>2] Your weight. (Feel free to write-in why.)
>3] Something else. (Write-in.)
>C] How little you know about your friends is truly stunning. They're fighting sleep and might not be able to talk for much longer, but... (There is no guarantee that more than one of these prompts can be answered.)
>1] Ask Serpent if he can tell you more about his tattoos.
>2] Ask Chesty if he's okay. For how chipper he usually is, he seems to have no end of dark stories to tell.
>D] Write-in. (There is no guarantee that you'll stay awake for long enough to talk to Father Wilhelm when he gets back, and when you wake up in the morning you're going to meet Father Pevrel, but feel free to mention anything else you'd like to do or say.)
>
Optionally, feel free to vote from any of the following names for your gardens.
>The Ray Nursery
>Sundown Orchard
>Bedrock Park
>The Greenway
>Dawncrest Grove
>Goldleaf Way
>Halo's Cradle
