“How in the fourteen thousand hells do you even like that guy?!” Viper bemoans, paw absentmindedly grabbing for her glass filled with some sort of hard liquor.
“...Okay,” replies Sissel, with a smirk. “But he’s not much different than the company you keep.”
Viperstream shoots her a glance, prompting Sissel to throw her hands up beside her head in mock surrender. “Your words, not mine!”
“Phrasing! I said he was worse!”
“How is he any worse?”
“Because he’s a dick?”
“…Well. It’s not like you don’t hang out with dicks, Viper.”
“Yeah, but the dicks I hang out with are cool and don’t suck.”
“Are they, now?”
“...Mostly.”
Sissel laughs, prompting Viperstream to, again, shoot her another look; this time, a death glare, though not entirely serious. She has to admit that Sissel is a much more fun conversational partner than Xander, at the very least— she’s still got a sarcastic streak, and she’s also quite arrogant, but not as much of a brute as the hyena; Sissel, on her part, seems to like the cat’s spirit, finding her a fun verbal sparring partner. Make no mistake, though— Sissel is still prone to annoying her, but… less so. To a bearable extent. An extent that was a bit riveting. Viperstream finds herself starting to enjoy her company, hard as that is for her to admit to herself, given that she hasn’t and continues to not get along with many other people… and perhaps the ones she did get along with weren’t the best company either, but she’s sure at least a few of them were working on it. So it was fine. Though, in retrospect, she does have a (slightly) wider social circle now than she had before, thanks primarily to Nyra and her strange way of bringing people together (by acting like an asshole), and somehow she’s been going a decent period of time without realizing this. How strange.
The conversation between them lulls a bit. Viperstream is still not quite sure how she ended up here, of all places; sitting in a bar with the… secret admirer, perhaps? …Of the weird warlord who tried to be her friend for a few weeks before the cat had finally had it with his tomfoolery and general dickishness? To call her a secret admirer also feels way too reductive, too juvenile— like she’s reducing this crazy 30-something-year-old killer woman to the holder of an apprentice’s first crush, not a full grown adult who is also dead and in… purgatory. Or something like it.
It is Sissel who speaks next, putting on the airs of feigned bravado (though she doesn’t exactly need to pretend, she thinks, with a sly smile). “I mean, obviously, he’s done bad things. So have I.” she puts a hand on her chest, emphasizing that last sentence. “You, maybe less, from what I know. But that’s water under the bridge now, pfft. It’s not like anyone can kill anyone again, at least for now. And I don’t particularly think I’d want to. I kinda like it here… but mainly because, as you might know, I’m busy being a better person now. I only want to kill people some of the time, and I wouldn’t act on it now. So.”
Viperstream scrunches up her face in mock disgust, sticking her tongue out to make her point before both of them burst into laughter; something quite uncharacteristic for the cat, at this point, but equally as welcome… and perhaps yet another sign of some sort of nascent change in the air as well.