Ok, I was playing Skyrim, and everytime I talked to a person in town, the voice of my character kept sounding so freaking sarcastic and pissed us at the world in my mind. So, I'm writing them down before I forget them.
For the record, I don't mean queen as in a royal. (If I ever do, I'll capitalize it.) In her case, I mean queen as in a female cat.
Disclaimer: I thought I owned Skyrim once. Then I took an- no, I can't do it! It's too overused!
Warning: Salty Language.
The young snow leopard Khajiit could not believe the shitty ass day she'd been having. First, she gets separated from her family caravan as they attempted to enter the land of Skyrim. Last she saw, they were still fighting off the small horde of what appeared to be Imperial Legionaries, if tattered and filthy examples of the fighters. Then, she stumbles into the middle of what must have been the REAL Imperials, and next thing she knew, she was waking up in a rumbling cart, surrounded by a horse thief, a revolutionary, and what appeared to be a Jarl of the snow-bound country. Before she could argue her case to the assholes in charge, they force her to the chopping block.
And then, the dragon appeared. Oh yes, by Azura's Glowing Tits, this has just been a bitch of a day.
Luckily, the same revolutionary from the cart had been another survivor, and between the two of them, Nocturnal must have smiled on them just enough to help them escape. Beautiful. Now, she was wandering around the mountain with a Nord, half naked because her furr crawled at the thought of taking the lice-infested armor from a dead man, with nothing but a pair of ragged booties, her underwear, and a crap-tastic bow to keep the wolves from chewing on her dappled flesh.
'Oh yes,' she thought as the Nord took a second to honor the Guardian Stones at the side of the road. 'My life is the living example of that Redguard curse; May you Live in Interesting Times.'
The man glanced back at her as she grumbled quietly under her breath, claws absently scratching whorl patterns into the wood of her bow. "I know this has been a troubling day, but it could always be worse," he offered.
"And how," she growled, (not that she was growling cause she was angry at him, she was a Khajiit, it always sounded like growling) "could this day be any worse?"
He grinned, trying to be optimistic. After all they were still alive. The young queen would always live with the trio of scars over her nose though. "It could be raining."
As if summoned, the clouds that had been hanging low as it was suddenly opened up, freezing rain pouring down. Ralof started up into the rain in disbelief before turning back to the young cat. Only to bite his lip, trying not to laugh in her face. Her fluffy fur was plastered down, and her ears were pinned back in disgust. She held up a clawed hand as he opened his mouth to say something. "No. Just no. Just, get me to a fire, or an arrow to the head, cause I am done with today."