Somewhere in a world where reason has taken a nap and drama drinks espresso—
Lili: “You’re in my light, Eliza.”
Lili flips a stray strand of platinum hair over her shoulder as she lands gracefully on the neon pink floor of the Playroom. Her heel sinks slightly into a foam mat shaped like a duck. She grimaces.
Lili: “Mon Dieu.”
Across the room, half-asleep in a plush beanbag shaped like a bunny, Eliza lifts her head—barely.
Eliza: "You're always in some light, Lili. Maybe try casting your own for once.”
She yawns like a lazy cat and doesn’t move. She hasn’t even stood up yet. A giant teddy bear rolls past behind her. It’s unclear if it’s part of the décor or an environmental hazard.
Lili twirls once in place—deliberately, beautifully—and points her gloved finger toward the vampire.
Lili: “I challenge you. For pride. For elegance. And for the last chocolate macaron.”
That last part gets Eliza’s attention.
Eliza: “...The what now?”
She’s up in a flash, cloak fluttering dramatically as if wind machines exist in this room (they don’t).
Eliza: “That’s mine. I marked it in the fridge with a fang-shaped bite.”
Lili: “Which only proves your lack of class...”
Suddenly, a squeaky toy explodes behind them. Neither flinches.
The camera pans dramatically. Cue: the most over-the-top music this side of an anime opening.
Lili backflips off a rocking horse. Eliza teleports across the padded floor in a flash of crimson mist. A plush giraffe is used as a bludgeon. Someone kicks a bouncy castle.
There’s a pause. Eliza stares.
Eliza: "Did you just throw a rattle at me?"
Lili: "It was designer."
Somewhere mid-fight, Lili performs a triple spin-kick off a teddy bear’s nose. Eliza counters with a demonic projectile that misses and obliterates a giant foam xylophone. They're both bleeding (somehow), but neither looks remotely tired.
Eliza: “Why do you fight like a ballerina with vengeance issues?”
Lili: “Why do you nap like you’re three centuries behind on sleep?”
A stuffed duck bounces between them like it’s watching from the sidelines.
Then—suddenly, from the side of the room, a door opens. A voice says something. Neither of them listens.
Lili: “This isn’t over.”
Eliza: “It never is.”
They lunge at each other again as the Playroom shakes from the sheer weight of their pettiness. Somewhere, a plush penguin explodes in slow motion.