CLICK—a long tongue of flame shot out from the brass lighter. The fire lit up the exquisite, explicit mural on the wall, and also revealed the savage, jagged-toothed green fish mouth behind the blaze.
The fish mouth nudged forward, placing the tip of the cigar it held into the flame.
The cigar lit, and swirling white smoke rings rolled up into the air, wobbling before shimmering and dispersing against a huge, ornate crystal chandelier.
I don't know what they add to these imported cigars from the Outer Island, but they're just way more intense than the ones from Hope Island.
Not a chance. Doesn't the first mate have the ability to modify plants? I've never seen him improve the taste of our tobacco. Growing tobacco's way more profitable than grain or fruit.
Tch, we print our own money. Is the island ever short on cash?
While enjoying the tingling numbness in his mouth and mind, Deep's three personalities chatted amongst themselves.
