You knew it. You knew it was going to be. You knew from the moment you saw them (and they saw you, and your eyes locked, and there was an intense energy and yadda yadda yadda same old same old) that of course they'd be making your chai latte, and of course it would would be exceptional.
They've always been like this. The whole reason why they became your nemesis in the first place is because they always had to one-up you somehow - ever since that first random fight on the battlefield millenia ago.
You're pretty sure you remember winning that one. They like to boast otherwise.
They bred the best horses. They planted their standard on more islands. They constructed the most intricate automata for the puppet shows. They cooked the most toothsome orecchiette. They relayed the best battle plans at court, and told the best anecdotes at balls. They bedded more people, more handsome men, more beautiful women, a better class of earthly delights - and they had more children to propagate the world with their superior brand of genetic stock. They loved more, they laughed more, they lived more. They did, apparently, everything more, and better.
Conveniently, none of this was verifiable.
But here it is - a smoking gun. A gently steaming cup of milky tea. And it's perfect. A perfect balance of each of its ingredients, lightly tinged with subtle notes that contribute just enough to not undermine, but complement the flavours of the main components.
You briefly consider standing up, taking your old gladius out of your bag and temporarily putting them down once again. It wouldn't take long - it never takes long. They never seem to expect it, for some reason.
You look up from over the rim of your oversized mug. From across the shop, they're beaming at you with an award-winning (literally, so they say) smile. You scowl back at them, before taking another sip.
Hmm.
This may have seemed like just another attempt to get one-up on you, not that you've attempted to make chai lattes before to compare to this excellent brew. But who really wins in this scenario? After all, you've now got exactly what you wanted.
You watch them carefully. They've now turned away from you, and are serving other customers. Making drinks and conversation. Not paying attention to you in the slightest. Smile as wide as ever.
NowHearsThis t1_j9hkci9 wrote
Reply to [WP] You're immortal, and have passed the 'hero' phase centuries ago. You enter a small coffee shop one day to find that it's owned by your millennia-old arch-nemesis. You really, really just want a chai latte though. by Prompt_Dude
It's great, of course.
You knew it. You knew it was going to be. You knew from the moment you saw them (and they saw you, and your eyes locked, and there was an intense energy and yadda yadda yadda same old same old) that of course they'd be making your chai latte, and of course it would would be exceptional.
They've always been like this. The whole reason why they became your nemesis in the first place is because they always had to one-up you somehow - ever since that first random fight on the battlefield millenia ago.
You're pretty sure you remember winning that one. They like to boast otherwise.
They bred the best horses. They planted their standard on more islands. They constructed the most intricate automata for the puppet shows. They cooked the most toothsome orecchiette. They relayed the best battle plans at court, and told the best anecdotes at balls. They bedded more people, more handsome men, more beautiful women, a better class of earthly delights - and they had more children to propagate the world with their superior brand of genetic stock. They loved more, they laughed more, they lived more. They did, apparently, everything more, and better.
Conveniently, none of this was verifiable.
But here it is - a smoking gun. A gently steaming cup of milky tea. And it's perfect. A perfect balance of each of its ingredients, lightly tinged with subtle notes that contribute just enough to not undermine, but complement the flavours of the main components.
You briefly consider standing up, taking your old gladius out of your bag and temporarily putting them down once again. It wouldn't take long - it never takes long. They never seem to expect it, for some reason.
You look up from over the rim of your oversized mug. From across the shop, they're beaming at you with an award-winning (literally, so they say) smile. You scowl back at them, before taking another sip.
Hmm.
This may have seemed like just another attempt to get one-up on you, not that you've attempted to make chai lattes before to compare to this excellent brew. But who really wins in this scenario? After all, you've now got exactly what you wanted.
You watch them carefully. They've now turned away from you, and are serving other customers. Making drinks and conversation. Not paying attention to you in the slightest. Smile as wide as ever.
You take another sip of your chai latte.
Maybe you'll let them think they won this one.