INT. JASON’S APARTMENT CUBE – LATE NIGHT
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[The dim lighting casts dramatic shadows over the game board now fully set up across Jason’s table. Little figurines dot the medieval map. Jason's taken his role as narrator way too seriously. SD-A sits cross-legged on the floor with focus sharper than a blade. SD-K... is holding his dice like they’ve wronged his family.]
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JASON (NARRATOR MODE)
“The goblin snarls, showing a row of teeth he stole from a toaster. He raises his mighty ladle of doom and—K! It’s your turn. You stand before him, one boot stuck in a suspicious puddle of cheese. What do you do?”
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SD-K (dryly)
“I attempt to negotiate with the goblin… using sarcasm.”
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SD-A (gasping)
“Bold move. Bold and doomed.”
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JASON (grinning)
“Roll for sarcasm.”
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[SD-K sighs and rolls a 2. Jason slaps the table.]
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JASON
“The goblin is deeply offended. He yells something about your lineage and swings the ladle. Take three spoon-damage.”
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SD-K (muttering)
“I hate this realm.”
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[A’s turn. He has a tiny rogue bot figurine perched on top of a mug. He looks at the board with the intensity of a tactical genius.]
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SD-A
“I sneak around the back, climb the shelf, and drop a bag of ancient nuts on the goblin’s head.”
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JASON
“You know what, roll it. If this works, I’m buying you a pretzel tomorrow.”
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[A rolls a natural 20. Jason throws his hands in the air. SD-K groans and flops over dramatically.]
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JASON
“By the sacred gears of probability, the goblin slips, gets clonked in the head, and launches himself into the cursed fondue pit. You win the encounter. You get… 10 bronze coins, a slightly cursed ladle, and... a used coupon for half-off repairs.”
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SD-A (beaming)
“Success!”
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SD-K (flatly)
“I want to throw myself in the fondue pit.”
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[They laugh. A short silence falls as they start setting up the next part of the map. Jason’s smiling to himself while organizing loot cards, while A’s busy choosing his next upgrade from a hilariously long list.]
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JASON
“You know, it’s kinda weird. Feels like we’re just... hanging out. No parasitic freaks, no screaming operators, no one bleeding machine oil on my floor.”
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SD-A (absently)
“Is that... bad?”
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JASON
“Nah. Just… not used to it. Normally I spend game nights arguing with my toaster over whose turn it is. It cheats.”
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SD-K
“Do all household items in this city have unresolved trauma?”
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JASON
“Only the ones Vision Tech made. So yeah, pretty much.”
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[They chuckle again. Jason pauses, leans back in his chair, looking at his two very illegal guests.]
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JASON
“You two ever had this kinda chill time before?”
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SD-A
“Not really. Usually we’re hiding. Or... surviving.”
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SD-K (flicking his dice around)
“Or arguing about why we can’t stop to pick up shiny scrap in the middle of a pursuit.”
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SD-A
“Scrap is important.”
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JASON (smirking)
“Scrap is life.”
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[They continue playing, Jason narrating with absurd flair. A new enemy appears: the Tax Goblin. K immediately tries to kill it before it can speak.]
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JASON
“Woah! We’re not even through its first monologue yet!”
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SD-K
“It charged me for my boots.”
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[More dice. More laughter. A night strangely peaceful. They all forget, just for a moment, the city outside. The threats. The mystery. The thing still stalking them.]
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CUT TO:
The flickering hallway light outside Jason’s door. A mechanical click echoes faintly down the empty corridor.
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