(Scene opens. Two people are sitting at a table. Their conversation is already in progress. One is wildly gesturing and pontificating. The other sits quietly and listens.)
He points with the hand holding the chipped glass. The rum sloshes around but never spills. “Everyone has a crown. Every human, that is. Not every human accepts it or even knows it, though. You can say that any entity can be a crown, not just those that are called gods. And not every crown asserts themselves over their charge.”
“Every human?”, she mockingly asks him. Daring to raise an eyebrow as she silences herself with a sip from her own.
“Yes.” He downs the contents of his glass and slams it harshly on the table.
“Without exception?” The sound does not startle her. She smiles in warm play.
“Without exception.” He gestures with the hand holding the bottle of rum now.
She lifts her glass to her face and calmly says a person’s name. She speaks not to ask or counter. She speaks the name as a complete statement.
He pauses before refilling his glass. “[That human] is different.” His tone has a warning edge to it. He fills his glass and gestures to fill hers.
She gulps the last sip and places her glass on the table under his bottle. She had noted the tone and decided to bring the conversation to the point. “You are very good at bullshitting, but I am good at learning. And one lesson you have taught me is nothing remains fixed. I can choose to leave things as they are or work to change them. You spun a pretty thread of fate, there. You know what happens to those kinds of threads in my hands. I know I’m gimped in this life. I don’t bitch about the handlers anymore. I know as I level up, so will those over me. But don’t you dare sit there and pour me a glass of distilled bullshit to make the changes easier to swallow. I took the Bitter Glass, remember.”
He pours rum into my glass. “I remember.” He spoke as soft as aged rum. He nods to himself. With a brighter tone, he brings the conversation back to the original topic. “Do you accept [the role you’re expected to play]?”
She snorted. “Nope. Not on those terms, not using those definitions. I will not allow myself to be collared and leashed because that is what others would do in my situation. I will do what I do best.” She lifted her filled glass in defiant salute.
He chuckles knowingly as he lifted his glass and returned the gesture. “And that is?”
“Adapt. Adjust. Advance.” With a flourish she lifts the glass high. She makes a great show of drinking the entire contents of the uncomfortably full glass.
He only smiles warmly. “Heh. Guess I can’t call you, ‘Girl’, anymore. [Redacted] sounds much more appropriate now.”
She considered the English meaning of the name and was reminded of another entity. “Hey, that reminds me. About [Imposter Snake] and the gate in kir realm…”
He stood up quickly, taking his hat and cane off the table. “Oh look at the time! I better go! Don’t want to open the bar late, right? Right!” Before she could complain, he leaves the scene.
She sighs, rolls her eyes, and shakes her head. She stands to leave as well, wondering if the initial encounter with Imposter Snake was supposed to slow her down. Oh well. She’s never been good at staying in traps.
She leaves.