I'm Not A Snake Monster!: Chapter 8
Added 2020-07-02 00:16:59 +0000 UTCSummary: Willow, an enormous snake-like monster with a heart of gold, has never seen anyone like her. She runs away from home in pursuit of the truth.
The Space and Time I Left Behind
CHAPTER 8
"Woooow..."
Willow wondered aloud, sticking close to Winston as he took the lead up the winding staircases. While Winston's dull eyes were locked straight ahead on where he was going, Willow's eyes wandered from wall to wall. She followed the ornate patterns of the wallpaper; she ooh'd at the picturesque landscape paintings and family portraits that decorated the walls, and awe'd at the strange cultural artifacts propped up from pedestal to pedestal.
There was a wind flute made from bamboo, with a placard explaining its origin; a gift from an isolated tribe on a far off island, the pronunciation of which Willow couldn't even begin to attempt. Her scaley palm reached forward to touch it.
"Mind your hands, Willow." Winston cautioned dully, not even flashing her a look.
"Aw..." Willow pouted, her hands falling to her side. She pressed on forward...
"And the tail." Winston uttered again, a bit more insistent this time. Willow jumped slightly, glancing back to the length of her tail that dominated the hallway.
"O-Oh yeah, sorry!" Willow jerked her tail away from the pedestal. "Sorry! My imagination's wandering a bit. There's so much cool stuff in this house!"
"Estate, dear. If Tara's going to wring my arm about adding a new servant to the staff, the least you could do is exercise the proper decorum and terminology." Winston turned slightly, his stern expression hidden from Willow's view.
"...Ahhhh, I'm gonna be a servant! I-I'm kinda nervous, I've never had a real job!" Willow beamed.
"...You do realize this doesn't bode for your resume." Winston shot Willow a look of utter consternation.
"Eh? But I'm already hired!" Willow tilted her head. Her hair snakes bounced, glancing at each other.
"...So it would seem." Winston grovelled lowly with a shake of his head. He turned to the front once more.
"How long have you worked her, Winston?" Willow wondered.
"Decorum." Winston curtly reminded her with a raised finger.
"Oh, sorry! Mister Winston!~" Willow beamed.
"..." Winston paused, momentarily reviewing the long series of decisions that led him to this very moment.
"I have been serving the Pandey family for three generations. I have served the matriarch since he was a child, for his father had entrusted him to me. And now, like his father before him, he trusts his only daughter to my able care." Winston explained coolly. "It is a tradition that those in the employ of the Pandey estate apply themselves to the fullest, so that the Pandey's may apply themselves to the fullest."
"Ohhhh. You've been at it for a long time..." Willow glanced to one of her hairsnakes. "Jeez, that's older than any of us."
"...'Us'?" Winston glanced behind.
"Oh! I didn't introduce you to my brothers! There's Barry, Gary, Larry, Jerry, Terry, and Obama!" Willow enthusiastically pointed to each one in turn. The six of them swivelled forward, eyeballing Winston with their beady little black eyes.
"...I'm not learning the names of your... 'brothers'." Winston's eyebrows furrowed.
"Ohhh, I guess you might be put off. Six names is a lot to remember..." Willow tilted her head. "Well, I always tell people, there's an easy mnemonic you can use! Blue Grumpy Llamas Juggle Truthful Opportunities!~" Willow sang along; her brothers bounced along to the rhythm.
"...That doesn't even make a modicum of sense." Winston grimaced.
"You just gotta practice it, that's all!" Willow explained. "Alright alright, maybe we need to rehearse it a few more times. Repeat after me: Blue Grumpy Llamas-"
"Thank the goddess we're here." Winston promptly cut her off, stopping in front of an understated doorway. Willow abruptly ceased her singing, leaning over to read the placard placed on the door.
"Servants' Quarters" Willow squinted, reading it aloud.
"This is the common living space for servants. It's also our mutual storage space. We'll have to find a different room for a woman of your... stature." Winston chose his words carefully, lowering a gloved hand to firmly grasp the handle, opening it slowly.
The servants quarters were... markedly less impressive than the rest of the mansion. It had a bit of a barebones quality to it, and the few beds that occupied the corners were small—even for a normal-sized person, but especially for Willow. The entire room looked more like an elaborate closet, with shelves lined with all kinds of cleaning products. A few contraptions dotted the floor... some of which Willow actually recognized!
"Wow, I know these things! They're for washing clothes!" Willow slithered over, looking them over with wide-eyed fascination. "Wooow... they're decoratively carved and everything!"
Jerry nudged the crank curiously. Winston casually kicked the tip of Willow's excitedly wriggling tail into the servant's room, closing the door behind them.
"Right. I expect you to take to your duties quickly." Winston said with an air of authority. He paced over to a closet. "We need to pick out a uniform for you..."
"Uwaaaaah! Even the closet within the closet is bigger than my room!" Willow cooed, slithering over and nearly bodychecking Winston into a nearby wall. Winston staggered aside, catching himself on the doorframe.
"..." Winston massaged his eyebrows. "How the devil did you survive this long... ugh..."
Willow didn't respond, slithering in a circle as more of her body squeezed into the space allotted for the walk in closet. So many uniforms hung in perfectly pressed, wrinkle-free, steam-pressed, pure-black-and-white-and-sometimes-some-brown-accents perfection! There were ruffles and sequins and headpieces and cuffs and aprons...
"Oh my..." Willow's eyes sparkled, looking around in all directions. "There're soooo many...!"
"Quite. We'll have to pick one suited for your aesthetics, as well as the sort of work you'll be doing." Winston explained. "These outfits have already been vetted prior for their durability, so we simply have to settle on an outfit aesthetically pleasing, and in line with the reputation of the Pandey Estate-"
"Terry? Did you find something?"
Willow interrupted Winston, feeling a strange rustling in her bed of snake hair. It seems one of her hair snakes was extending itself over to the hangers, booping its snooter as if pointing something out.
"Oooh, I think he found something, Mister Winston!" Willow pointed it out.
"You're letting your pet decide your outfit...?" Winston's eyebrow cocked upwards.
"He's not a peeeet, he's a brother! We have the same birthday, we hatched from the same egg!~" Willow nodded.
"...hatched from the same... nevermind that." Winston leaned closer to get a better look.
Terry was wrapping around the coat hanger and, with some effort and coordination, wrested the apron from the rack. Willow studied it carefully...
"Ooh! This one looks cute!" Willow studied it a bit more carefully. "It's got a cute little skirt, and loooooong stockings! ...Wait, I can't wear stockings."
Willow drooped for a moment, her scaley hand feeling the soft fabric. Winston studied the outfit.
"...My word, it looks like a costume for a small girl to play dress up in." Winston muttered. "I suppose we had students interning here, but... this looks much too small for you, Willow."
"Really? I reckon I could pull it off. It'd be good enough, at least..." As if in response, Terry's head hovered near Willow's chest, pressing the outfit against her torso, as if to display.
"No, no, we can do better. Put it back." Winston shook his head curtly. "It's not about being 'good enough', it's about aspiring for perfection in everything you do, and how you present yourself."
"Woooow... cool." Willow nodded. She could feel Winston's passion for his work ring through.
Boop boop.
"Eh? ...Oh, Jerry! You find something else?"
It seems that Willow's hairsnakes were stretching in all directions, parsing the selection themselves. Of course, six pairs of eyes were better than one. And they were narrowing down the selection quickly!
"...Eh?" Willow eyeballed Jerry's selection. One could best describe it as... outdoorsy. The fabric was hard and reinforced, resistance bending and breaking. The apron had a multitude of pockets. And the headpiece was... decidedly lacking in frills.
"This looks... different!" Willow tried to phrase it as politely as she could. Her tongue whipped out; she recoiled slightly. "Is that oil? It smells oily..."
"You can smell that? I... I was so thorough in my soaking and scrubbing..." Winston rubbed his chin.
"Oh! I just smell really good! It's... subtle??" Willow lied unconvincingly; to her heightened sense of smell, it was repulsive.
"That would be the engineer maid's outfit. The head of the household much enjoyed fine-tuning his automotives, and a maid that was hands on with the latest advancements in steam technlogy was desirable. Of course, the fabric is resistance to hot and cold temperatures, and-"
"It's not very cute." Willow shook her head. "I'll paaaass."
Boop boop boop. Boop boop!
The hairsnakes swivelled around, bombarding Willow on all sides with strange and exotic outfits to try on.
"W-What the heck is this one?" Willow wondered. "It's all rubbery, a-and the frills and stuff are, like, an afterthought..."
"Ah yes, the beachfront one-piece swimming suit for the aquatic maid. For the occasions where a maid must swim to shore to return the dirty dishes..." Winston nodded his head.
"...Do they not have boats for that?" Willow cocked her head.
"There's only one life boat on the yacht." Winston clarified, somewhat cryptically at that.
"...I don't have legs to put through the leg holes." Willow frowned. "It was a good idea though, Barry! A-ah, Larry-"
"...What the devil is that one supposed to be??" Winston's expression turned dour at the looks of the latest piece. It was even shorter than the mini-skirt, and the cross-stitched front and the low-line for cleavage left very little to the imagination.
"...Heheh! It's so small!" Willow chuckled. "Is this for a doll of some kind??"
"A sex doll, perhaps." Winston scowled, snatching it immediately. "Someone decided to bring their work home with them. I'll burn it before I allow Miss Pandey's eyes to be tainted as such..."
"I guess that's a no then... Obama, I can always count on you! ...Ooooooh!!" Willow turned around to see what Obama was carrying. Winston leaned over, his lips curled with some degree of trepidation.
"...Willow? What, exactly, is that...?" Winston raised a pointed finger; Willow didn't even notice how it trembled slightly.
"I think we're getting close!!" Willow beamed, feeling over the fabric. "It's soft, and it reminds me of home!"
Winston's eyes lowered to the deathly gray tones of the maid outfit, how the hem of the skirt was torn; seemingly slashed at. There were strange, ominous stains. No amount of bleach could cleanse those marks.
"Willow... that outfit, it... it should not be here." Winston cautioned. "I-It should not be among the world of the living."
"Eh? It's just a dress! Call it a fixer up!~" Willow smiled. "Just a little sewing here and a little white paint there and-"
"No. There is a cursed air about this... this outfit. An evil aura. I don't know how it got here, it just... does." Winston snatched it away. "I will take it to an exorcist first thing in the morning."
"Awww... ghosts aren't real, you big doof." Willow pouted.
Boop!!!
"Aaaaalright, Gary, you got my attention, jeez! Lemme just get a good look here and... um?"
Willow paused, giving it a curious once over. Her head bobbed to the left and the right, trying to take it in.
"...Eh? It's... green. And brown, and... patterned... and thick." Willow felt the fabric. "A-and why does it come with boots? Why are they so heavy?"
"Ahhhhh, the wartime maid costume. Quite a relic there..." Winston rubbed his chin. "It's a bit of an antique. I believe Tara's grandfather was party to the War of Storm Creek. Of course, he had his own attachment of army maids performing crucial wartime tasks."
"...Army maids...?" Willow blinked, turning back to the outfit.
"They've since fallen out of favour, with the military becoming less aristocratic and more, how you say... common. But it's a noble tradition, I'm sure, and-"
"Nope. Can't do it." Willow shoved the outfit back onto the rack. "My moms taught me that fighting is wrong. And war makes people do... awful things. I don't wanna go making people think about that kinda stuff around me."
Willow's eyes lowered, rubbing her arm. She wasn't smiling her curious jubilant smile anymore; her eyes reflected empathy and an uneasy frown. Winston could tell immediately it was a touchy subject for Willow.
"...I..." Winston cut himself off, curtly clearing his throat. "Well. This has the potential for a deep and intricate conversation, but I do say, we've been at this outfit selection exercise for far too long."
Winston's eyes lowered, seeing some of Willow's hairsnakes prodding at the pile of outfits he already made. They hissed quietly at Winston, as if disagreeing with his sense of style. Winston sneered, but decided to keep his distance; their fangs looked sharp, and potentially deadly.
His eyes rose to Willow's. "You've been content to let your, ahem, brothers have their say. But what do you suppose would be the best fit for your... proportions." Winston tilted his head. "If worst comes to worst... we can bring in a seamstress to make proper adjustments."
"...I dunno..." Willow was suddenly feeling a little anxious from the whole "army maid" outfit. Her eyes drifted around, studying the outfits a little more carefully.
She paused, spotting one in the corner. She slithered forward, pointing it out.
"Can I try this one on?"
---
After Willow made her selection, Winston made to wait outside the Servants' Quarters, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. He huffed, glancing at his pocket watch frequently; he kept track of every minute that passed since he had been sent out there.
"Are you quite done in there!?" Winston hollered. "I have important business to attend to, and I can't babysit you all day long!"
"I'm almost readyyy!" Willow called out in a singsong candour. "Just gimme a miiiiinute!~"
"I've given you several minutes!" Winston spat. "How long does it take for a woman to get changed? You don't even need to bother with the stockings!"
"Hold your hooooooorses!~" Willow replied. "Just need to make... a few more adjustments..."
"Tch... this girl is pushing her luck." Winston muttered to himself, folding her arms. "Any other servant would bring their own work clothes, and she just waltzes right in because the mistress is enamoured with her. Unbelievable..."
"Okay! We're readyyy!" Willow called out. "I'm coming out now, okay?"
"Finally! Sheesh!" Winston stood at attention... before blinking. "Wait. 'We'?"
But before Winston could get an answer, Willow was already letting herself through the door. Willow wore a dazzling smile, holding her arms to her sides as she let the fabric of her outfit flutter with every movement she made.
It was a classical outfit with some modern flair added for extra cuteness. Her hairpiece lay perfectly nestled atop the bed of snakes that comprised of her hair, and the boys rose and fell as if to make room for the hairpiece. The apron was decorated with a pretty red ribbon tied just underneath her neck; the entire outfit billowed out, going just a little further past the trunk of her enormous snake-like body.
With the thumb and index fingers of both of her scaly hands, the cufflinks buttoned up to her wrists, she attempted a curtsy... which really came off as more of a bow, but there was an earnest attempt.
"Here I aaam! Don't I look positively adorable??" Willow slithered in a circle, letting the hem of the dress billow.
"...What'd you do with the snakes?" Winston pointed out the hair snakes that swayed back and forth. Each one was adorned with a miniature black bowtie.
"Oh, those? I saw what you were doing with your outfit, and I figured, hey, the boys are part of the team too! They gotta look the part!" Willow held her hands in front of her chest. "Don't they look positively spiffy??"
"...That's one way of putting it." Winston blinked, tugging absentmindedly at his own bowtie. He cleared his throw, looking over Willow one more time.
"The outfit seems to be a fair fit. I don't think we'll find something for the tail..." He leaned to the side, looking over the enormous tail that seemed to occupy half of the room.
"I'm used to it!" Willow nodded. "I'll try my best not to track mud or anything with it. I keep it sparkly clean! Aside from, well..."
Willow prodded her fingers together.
"...My time of the month." Willow's eyes darted around sheepishly. Winston could only wonder as to what Willow meant: it probably wasn't anything good.
"I-I don't need to hear about that," Winston cleared his throat. "Whatever, you're dress, you're ready. It's time that I show you the ropes properly and-"
"Um, Mister Winston?" Willow cocked her head to the side. "Can I say one itty bitty thing?"
"...Alright." Winston folded his arms, listening attentively. "Make it quick."
"I know you keep yourself really busy, taking care of Tara, and... I know she appreciates that. And you got a lot on your plate, so... I'm thankful you're putting aside so much time catching me up to speed."
Willow cocked her head to the side with a grin. In a moment, her eyes widened, and she glanced to her hair snake buds.
"...And of course, these guys feel the same way too, right?"
The hairsnakes glanced at each other, and then to Winston. They stared blankly.
"...They do. They're more easy-going around girls..." Willow raised a hand to twist around a snaketail resting near her forehead.
"...You don't have to act so grateful." Winston's eyes drifted to the side, adjusting his collar. "It's my job to ascertain that the estate runs perfectly. To that end, of course I would oversee the new recruits, and ensure they perform to my exact instructions. Rest assured, I'll be putting you through hell."
Winston smirked slyly. Willow blinked, unsure what to make of this veiled threat; her hair snakes, meanwhile, eyeballed each other anxiously.
"Hah, alright! I'm ready to tackle anything you throw at me!" Willow flexed a bicep. "Do your worst, Mister Winston!~"
Winston blinked, as if his bluff was called. He hoped to put the fear of the goddess into Willow... but it only proved to embolden her further. Willow really was a curious creature.
"...Alright. Let's get to work."
