Snake leaned against the damp wall of the hidden laboratory, his arms folded loosely across his chest, the grin on his face casual as ever.
Across from him, hunched over a cluttered workbench, Othello scribbled furiously into a leather-bound notebook, his quill scratching across the pages.
The room smelled of herbs, metals, and something far fouler.
The thick, acrid stench of concoctions that should not exist.
Snake waited, eyes flicking over the shelves that brimmed with bottles of swirling liquids, powders, and more than a few jars holding things that twitched faintly in their fluid.
Finally, Othello raised his head, spectacles catching the dim lantern light, and smiled that crooked, unsettling smile of his.
"Well?" Othello's voice cracked with eagerness. "Tell me about whatever new friend you made today."
"His name is Bruno." Snake chuckled, running a hand through his red hair. "And the potion worked like a charm."
