(The lights are low. The counter glows faint violet. Three glasses stand ready. Mother Dearest pours thick black liquor that swirls like ink.)
Mother Dearest: "Alright, my lovelies. For every question, we take a shot. Don't choke. Shadows hate liars." (She smirks, sliding the first drink toward them.)
Q1 — "Let's start easy. Shadow Man, why didn't you warn Viktor about what would happen when he touched Ayoka's power?"
Shadow Man: "Warn him? I did, sugar. I told him every blessing has its consequence. He's just learnin' to live with the gift I bring. Power always marries the heart before the hand — he just didn't read the vows." (He lifts his shot, lets the dark liquor roll down smooth.)
Then he leans forward, grin sharp enough to catch candlelight. "But tell me, Mother Dearest — you still haven't written in the story that they're soulfully married. When you gonna fix that?"
Mother Dearest: (smiles slow, eyes half-lidded) "Oh, child, some things don't need to be written to be true." (She pours the next shot before he can press further.) "Next question."
Q2 — "Alright, children," Mother Dearest says, refilling their glasses, "who's journey do you think is going to be the hardest?"
Genieve doesn't wait. Her smile is all venom and perfume. "I am her love rival," she says, eyes sliding toward Ayoka. "Aren't you going to ask the love rival question, Mother Dearest?"
Ayoka laughs, sharp and low. "Bitch, please."
Genieve's grin twists. "I liked you better when you were a slave."
Ayoka doesn't flinch. "Well, I guess I got my freedom, you bald-headed bitch."
The table shakes. Genieve slams her hand down, the glass cracking beneath her palm. Before either can rise, Mother Dearest raises one hand; the air hums. Vines slip from the floorboards, winding around both women's wrists and shoulders, pressing them back into their seats.
"Enough," Mother Dearest says, voice steady but heavy. "You answer the damn question."
Ayoka exhales slowly. "Genieve might be locked up, but she's about to face what we all face—truth. The kind you can't lie out of."
Genieve glares across the table. "Ayoka still has the mind of a slave. She sleeps with my ex-fiancé and calls it freedom."
Ayoka smirks. "I heard he wasn't really your fiancé. You just pulled that story out your powdered ass."
The room goes still. The candles flicker. Shadow Man chuckles from his seat at the edge of the bar, swirling his drink. "Next question," he says, voice smooth as smoke.
Q3 — Mother Dearest leans on the bar, eyes glinting like she's already two questions ahead.
"Shadow," she says sweetly, "be honest now—are you jealous of Sasha?"
The Shadow Man chokes mid-sip, shadow liquor spilling across his hand. The glass hums faintly where it hits the counter.
"Now hold on," he drawls, laughing under his breath. "Why do I get the love questions when the two main subplots for love are sittin' right here throwin' drinks at each other?"
Mother Dearest smirks, her tone velvet and final. "Because I can. Answer the damn question."
The Shadow Man wipes his fingers on a napkin made of fog, shaking his head. "No… not really jealous. Just cautious. Though I'm pretty sure that boy's got a crush on Sabine."
He chuckles, low and knowing. "She's too much woman for him anyway."
Mother Dearest hums, swirling the bottle absently. "Mmm. You always say that about the ones who bite back."
The Shadow Man raises an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a flaw."
Mother Dearest pours him another drink. "Next question."
Q4 — Mother Dearest leans her elbows on the counter, eyes flicking between the two women.
"So, if you could do it differently… would you?"
For once, the room goes quiet. The liquor in their glasses hums, waiting.
Genieve answers first, chin high. "No. I wouldn't change a thing. Every wrong choice I made still got me remembered. Pain keeps your name alive longer than love ever will."
Ayoka studies her drink for a moment, then nods slowly. "No, not all over again. But if I could wait for the right time—or the right place to be born—I'd still walk the same path. Maybe this time I'd know when to run."
Mother Dearest smiles faintly. "So neither of you believe in second chances?"
Genieve's eyes narrow. "There are no second chances. Just prettier cages."
Ayoka shrugs. "Freedom's still freedom, even if it hurts."
Mother Dearest hums, thoughtful. "Next question."
Q5 — Mother Dearest tops off the glasses again, her bracelets clinking like chimes in a storm.
"Alright, since everyone's gettin' sentimental," she says, "let's talk about the town. You mind explainin' how this little place of ours works, Shadow? Folks out there still askin' who really runs it."
The Shadow Man swirls his drink, grin curling slow. "It runs itself, sugar. I just make sure it remembers the rules. Every deal made, every whisper traded, every secret sold—it all finds its way back here."
Mother Dearest tilts her head. "And the house?"
"The house," he says, voice lowering, "feeds on the weight of those promises. The more you owe, the longer you stay. That's why the town never sleeps—it's dreamin' on debts."
Ayoka leans in, tone calm but edged. "So the living and the dead drink together?"
"More like they pay the same tab," he says, smiling.
Mother Dearest hums softly, pleased. "Mm-hm. Sounds like a fine arrangement of chaos. But the people want to know—will we ever get to see Viktor and Ayoka play out that little scene of theirs?"
The Shadow Man grins wider, eyes catching the candlelight like gold dust. "Oh, you'll see it. Every vow they didn't mean to speak, every thread they accidentally tied—it's all gonna play out." He takes another shot and sets the glass down slow. "And when it does, I'll be right there watchin'."
Mother Dearest smirks, voice low and knowing. "Then I'll keep the bar open late that night."
The fog hums around them—half laughter, half omen.
Q6 — Mother Dearest laughs suddenly, breaking the tension like glass.
"Alright, last one before I close my bar for the night." She leans her chin into her palm, eyes gleaming. "If y'all had to live like regular mortals for one day—no magic, no curses, no titles—what would you do?"
Ayoka: "Sleep. Somewhere quiet, somewhere warm. Maybe eat something that ain't trying to whisper my name."
Genieve: "Shop. I'd buy out the whole damn town. If I'm mortal, I might as well be beautiful while I suffer."
Shadow Man: "I'd open a lemonade stand. Charge a sin for every sip."
Mother Dearest: (snorts softly) "You'd still find a way to tax the living."
Shadow Man: "Gotta keep the lights on somehow, sugar."
Mother Dearest shakes her head, smiling into her glass. "Alright then. That's enough truth for one night. The bar's closed, but the house never sleeps. Y'all behave—if you remember how."
(The fog exhales around them. Somewhere outside, thunder rolls like laughter.)