Scene 1: The Bar’s Buzz
[Setting: Claire’s bar, alive with chatter and clinking glasses. The gods and mortals from the courtroom are scattered throughout, their divine airs slightly deflated by the casual setting. Claire moves behind the bar, pouring drinks with practiced ease, side-eyeing the more eccentric patrons. Elliot and Jake sit at the bar, sipping beers and processing the surreal events of the day.]
Jake (leaning in): “So… the rabbit. Tripod. Or should I say… Imri?”
Elliot (grimacing, taking a long sip): “Yup. God of Implications. Living in our laundry basket this whole time.”
Claire (approaching, planting her hands on the counter): “Don’t remind me. I’m still not over her ‘implied residency’ argument. That rabbit—sorry, she—chewed through my best socks.”
Jake (nodding toward the pool table, where Imri is reclining in her humanoid form): “And now she’s over there, sipping a martini and winning at billiards.”
[At the pool table, Imri lines up her shot with calculated grace. T.Pratchett, the goat-lawyer from earlier, stands on a stool next to her, bleating softly in approval as the cue ball sinks a perfect shot.]
Claire (exasperated): “Seriously, what’s with the goat? Is he with her?”
Elliot (shrugging): “Apparently, they’re a team now. Divine implications and lawyer loopholes—a match made in chaos.”
Scene 2: Speculation and Revelation
[Claire leans against the bar, watching the pair intently. Imri gives T.Pratchett a conspiratorial smile as she lines up another shot. Her shimmering form is a stark contrast to the goat’s nonchalant demeanor.]
Claire (muttering): “You know… what if that goat isn’t just some courtroom gimmick? What if he’s our goat? The one?”
Elliot (arching an eyebrow): “Tripod’s the God of Implications. I’m pretty sure if T.Pratchett was the goat, she’d have mentioned it. Probably with a smug grin and a three-hour lecture.”
Jake (frowning): “Still, it’s weird, right? A rabbit turns out to be a god. Why not a goat too? It’s not like this whole thing hasn’t been absurd already.”
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[Claire shakes her head, but a flicker of doubt crosses her face. Imri catches her eye from across the room and smirks, as if she knows exactly what they’re talking about.]
Claire (pointing a finger): “She’s doing it again. Implying stuff. That’s her thing, isn’t it? Leaving just enough room for us to spiral.”
Elliot: “Welcome to my life.”
Scene 3: The Philosophical Spiral
[At a nearby table, Coincidence (God of Coincidences) and Conundrum (God of Conundrums) sit, locked in their usual circular debate. Conundrum sips whiskey while Coincidence flips a coin repeatedly, never looking at it when it lands.]
Conundrum: “The real conundrum isn’t whether the goat is their goat. It’s whether knowing changes anything. If he is, does it matter? And if he isn’t, why does it feel like it should?”
Coincidence (smirking): “Ah, but what if the goat doesn’t care? What if he’s just here to play pool and drink martinis? Isn’t that the beauty of it?”
[Claire passes by, shaking her head as she serves a tray of drinks.]
Claire: “You two need hobbies. Preferably ones that don’t involve existential goat debates.”
Scene 4: God of Happy Accidents' Absurd Arrival
[As the evening wears on, the door swings open with theatrical flair. Felicity saunters in, holding a cocktail and radiating her signature chaotic charm.]
Felicity (grinning): “Oh, I do love a post-verdict unwind. What’s the topic tonight? Goats? Rabbits? Implications? All of the above?”
[She slides onto a stool next to Jake, twirling a stray strand of hair around her finger as she surveys the room.]
Claire (sighing): “Felicity, do you ever just… stay home?”
Felicity (mock gasp): “And deprive you of my insight? Never.”
[Felicity raises her glass toward Imri and T.Pratchett at the pool table. Imri winks, while the goat bleats in acknowledgment.]
Felicity: “To the goat! Whether he’s the goat or not, one thing’s for sure—he’s fabulous.”
Scene 5: The Sax Player’s Return
[The bar settles into a comfortable rhythm, the chatter punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Just as things begin to wind down, the door creaks open again. Heads turn as the familiar sound of a soulful saxophone fills the air. The sax player, dressed in his usual outrageous plaid suit, strolls in with his instrument slung over one shoulder.]
Claire (throwing up her hands): “Finally! Where have you been, Saxman?”
Sax Player (shrugging): “Got caught up in a game of pool with a rabbit and a goat. Nearly lost my title, but don’t worry—I’m still the king.”
[He sets up on the tiny stage, tuning his saxophone. The room falls quiet as the first notes drift through the air, smooth and full of soul. Imri raises her martini glass toward the stage, her smirk softening into something almost fond.]
Elliot (raising his glass): “To weirdness.”
Jake (clinking glasses): “And to whatever that was.”
[As the sax player’s melody weaves through the bar, T.Pratchett climbs onto a barstool, surveying the room like a benevolent king. Imri lounges beside him, her form shimmering as she sips her drink.]
[End Scene]
[retcon:1]