“That’s what you fail to understand, Deathlord. You think yourself infallible but even the most powerful being in the universe isn’t perfect. I learned your secret in the mines of Absentia and put down the beast responsible for your immortality. Now that I’ve said something you feel it, don’t you? Something subtle yet certain? That slow creep is -”

The gentle ring of a bell. “Hold that thought.”

Immersion broken, the roleplayers blink at each other over the table, readjusting to reality from imagination’s trance.

“This is ridiculous.” It’s a longer way back for some than others. Like the person who’d been interrupted (the person talking now) – his baseline is delusion. As someone permanently lost in what he thinks he knows to be true, he never fails to exercise his self-given right to speak in judgement of a situation.

“The store is still open.” Says a Veteran of many games, “Dude’s gotta run his business.”

“No, as our game-master, Dude,” Even this reference to another is malformed, in Deluded’s voice everything takes on a deluded shape, “Is responsible for our game. I cleared my schedule to play.”

“In his store.” Veteran shoots back.

“Yeah, I mean, is it that big of a deal to wait?” A younger voice, the only other person at the table interjects, “You were taking kind of a long turn anyways.”

As is customary, Deluded goes defensive against objective observation. “Roleplay is a major part of the game. You’ll learn with experience. Maybe.”

Veteran’s eyebrows rise. “Well I been playing longer than you for sure. We were in combat, that means your character gets 6 seconds to act. You were sucking yourself off for an entire minute after swinging your sword.”

“My character talks fast.”

“Okay, Int score 4.” Veteran scoffs; Newbie laughs.

“That’s actually my perception roll.”

“No shit.”

Deluded decides not to worry why they’d laughed a second time; stepping out from the back of the store, he sees Dude at the counter, opposite a tall Stranger, bearded and robed. Their fast moving mouths go still on Deluded’s approach, who interprets this as deference shown to someone so obviously wronged. “Don’t feel too bad,” Deluded’s tone is conciliatory, “I have it written down.”

“Huh?”

“My speech – you got up and walked away in the middle of my turn.”

“Very rude to interrupt people like that. An adult should know better.”

Focusing on the content of Stranger’s words instead of their sarcastic timing, Deluded nods thanks. Dude rolls eyes. “Just have to take care of this. Real quick, then I’ll be back over.”

As is often the case, Deluded doesn’t listen. His focus is on the trading cards arranged into a tower on the counter. Stranger nods toward the structure. “You like games, huh? Know this one?”

“Of course.” Deluded’s lie is instinctual. Automatic.

Dude swipes the cards into a pile. “No, you don’t.”

“He says he does. I mean, not these cards in particular, these are…an expansion pack for TRPG. But he means he’s played before.”

“Just last week.”

“Just. Last. Week.” Each word of Deluded’s repeated by Stranger is a step toward laughter, where Stranger stays, alone, until the chuckle chuckles out.

Dude holds out the cards. “Here.” To Stranger, then to Deluded, “Really, go back. I’ll be right there.”

Deluded looks between the two. “Oh, I see now. You were messing with me.”

“Lil’ bit.” Stranger waves the cards in hand, “I’m just here on business. It’s dangerous to work without some play.”

Deluded smiles at Dude. “You hired an actor to be an NPC?”

Dude blinks, one eye at a time. “No.”

Deluded doen’t register that. “I can’t believe my complaint from the first session – it’s not that you don’t do good with the voices, I just know it could be better and look, in front of us, the perfect Wizard King of Absentia.”

“Dude isn’t lying. I’m not here for some game; I’m a fortune teller.”

Deluded scoffs in disbelief, but the pressure applied by the resultant silence is enough to drive the point home. “So…you are here for a game.” Sort of.

Stranger raises hand; Dude, who’d been thinking about stepping in, gets the message not to. “You don’t believe?”

“As much as I believe in the games I play.” Deluded crosses arms.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. The games you play are your world. Your reality.”

Deluded laughs. “Awfully certain words about me considering we just met; cold read someone else.”

“You think I’m reading you? I don’t have to – I can’t – you ain’t real. You spend your time playing games. Avoiding real. Obsessed with microcosms, tiny artificial systems that guarantee results through the roll of a die. All it takes is a flick of the wrist for something to happen. And that’s nice for you, because your body exists but your mind can’t cut it, can’t stop from being ineffectual, incapable, and the games, your active engagement in delusion is the only way you know how to ease the burden of that knowledge.”

Broken inside by those words, Deluded keeps to what is known – smiles. “That’s the stupidest shit I ever heard.”

“Nah, no way.” Stranger shifts into a jovial stance and shuffles the deck of cards, leaving one stick out. “You want stupid, read this out loud.”

For the first time, Deluded takes what is offered. “The fool? There’s only two words – why – it’s mirrored?

—

Dude sits back down at the table. “Sorry about that. We can get back to the fight now.” Rookie and Veteran look at Deluded’s still empty seat. “Oh. When he came up front, he had another roll to do. Boss action. He lost. Not coming back.”

The End

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