I don't put author's notes on here very often, but I'd like to clarify some things here. This title means nothing, but since it's scrapped I might as well call it something dumb as fuck. This one is one I started writing (and is super, super unfinished, and not at all canon or canon-compliant anymore as it stands, ha) in one of my literary theory classes back in 2021. You can tell it's unfinished because it's like, fewer than 500 fucking words and makes no sense. Woah.
This one was part of that big postponed event-story-beat-thing with fucking... Halligan. This, as you can tell, also has an earlier version of Nyra in there, when I was still planning to stick by the rule that she's really weird and doesn't use contractions and speaks in like, really overcorrected English. Which I did not stick with because as I play her I'm like, woof, no thanks, doesn't sound like her! I'll use that shtick for another character eventually. And as for Halligan — I'll get back to him one day. Probably. I still intend for that to happen, just... differently. I think?
“That and everything else.”
“But-but I don’t even know what else I did!”
“...Oh, I see, so not only are you a sniveling jackass, but you’re stupid, too.” Viperstream spat bitterly in reply, transfixing the far larger animal with a nasty stare. “Look, if it was up to me, I’d sooner kill myself, or someone else, than come knocking at your door, but seeing as I can’t even do that, here we are. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. So are you going to help us with our immediate, afterlife-threatening problem, or are you going to sit on your ass and pick on people weaker than you for the rest of your pathetic nonexistence?”
“You are certainly laying into him,” Nyra said flatly, her voice sounding as weathered and boring as ever.
“Yeah. I am.” replied the cat, barely sparing her more than a cursory glance backwards. “So anyway,” she turned her attention back towards Xander with narrowed eyes. “Have you and your unfathomably genius mind figured out why exactly we’re here yet, or do I actually have to explain it to you?”
“I know you need help, but I-”
“You need the explanation, don’t you? Ha. The world is fucking ending, dipshit.”
“...I didn’t think it was that bad! Jeez, relax!”
“It is not,” Nyra answered, stepping forward with a confident and heavy step. “That bad.” Viperstream growled, deep in her throat; the elf-cat shot her a nasty look, but it did little to quell the tension. “Not at present, at least. It most certainly could be, if we do not act upon a defense.”
“...First off, could you just talk like a normal fucking person, and second off—”
“...Why don’t you just go tell one of the people who run this joint, or somethin’?” Xander butted in, his former sheepish tone from a mere few moments ago replaced with his typical douchebag one, much to Viperstream’s violent chagrin and Nyra’s… well, blank stare, really. He leaned back lazily on the couch, stupid t-shirt on full display and only serving to make him look more like a dick. “S’ not my job to fix your problems. And if it’s a problem you two can’t solve yourselves,” he gestured between the two of them for absolutely no other reason other than to reinforce his general jackassery, “you should probably be seeking the help of someone more qualified for the job.”
Resisting the urge to devolve into a flood of curses, Viperstream sighed mockingly. “Oh, Xander… you’re right. How could we ever have been so silly? You must be so busy. I suppose we’ll just have to go find someone else… someone who’s actually competent. After all, you’re just one guy, right? One sad, pathetic little guy. No, er…” she paused for a moment, choosing the stupidest word she could currently think of, “...swaaaag. No offense, of course.”