Title: The Cold, Hard Truth (Hallow's Eve 2017 Edition)
Summary: "Sylvanas tells it like it is."
Notes1: So I said I'd be working on that Dragon Age oneshot, but then SkullyPirate brought up the idea of doing a Hallow's End chapter in a PM and that's how this got started rolling. I had considered doing it prior to the PM, and even though I'm kind of ambivalent on this year's Halloween costumes, you can consider this chapter my thoughts laced with Sylvanas's in regards to them (read: it's mostly Sylvanas' because, well, it's Sylvanas, and I happen to be more blunt than brutal where it concerns voiced opinions). This would've been out earlier this past week, but I had a nine-day stint at work to do (to compensate for a couple employees going on vacation) and surprisingly I did not drop dead by the end of it. Fear not, my readers: I still live.
Notes2: Also, someone else asked if I would write a chapter based (bleh) Dreadlord Jaina: This isn't it, but yes, I do intend to write one that chronologically debuts her; it's in the prompt dump doc. I hate most memes with an undying passion (which is ironic, considering I wrote Have You Heard the Word? around the time Family Guy made "The Bird is the Word" very popular), but the ones I do like are made fun of in return. I mean, her design is great, but the way it came about just sours me. It didn't really help that I cracked open my copy of World of Warcraft: Chronicles Volume 2" one day, looked at the index, and blanched upon seeing Jaina's name under the dreadlord entry. Personally, for me, I could see myself cracking down on redundant memes...which, in turn, would create more memes just to set me off. It is a never-ending cycle of refuse, reuse, and recycle.
Notes3: I think the last time I dabbled in metaphysics and quantum mechanics in at least ten years, but I was always partial to the many-worlds theory and found it easier to get into than most religions (not that I am discrediting them, but it is merely a preference of mine). As Chromie and Sylvanas say, it's better not to dwell too hard on the implications unless you want tie your brain in a knot :P
Notes4: I closed the poll last Saturday during the busy work week, and...yeah, speaking of week, "The Worst Week" won out by one vote above the "Sylvanas and the gang turn into kids and try to change back while messing with gender politics in a parody of the 1968 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer TV special" and "the Tropico version of Sylvanas and the gang trying to run an island in Mistharbor in an attempt at benevolent dictatorship that Sylvanas somehow inherits" prompts. "The Worst Week" initially started out as an idea for a drabble in which the Novas in the Ghost Protocol escape and run rampant in King's Crest while they latch onto Sylvanas as a sort of mass harem; and Sylvanas would try to bring them back to the Board before the Nexus gets overrun by, well, a ton of Nova clones. Of course, it would be comedic in nature. Now I'm pretty sure it's going to end up bittersweet by the end, since now the plan has changed to having the Novas gain sentience and not want to fight, and Li-Ming finally coming to terms with her feelings and the revelation there are other girls interested in Sylvanas and that all her vain attempts at trying to push everyone out of the not-harem so she could have her to herself (although it's not much of a secret, since Artanis and the girls are openly aware and the rest of the public are just waiting for shit to implode) were all for naught. I both point to and blame the lyrics in Mariya Takeuchi's "Plastic Love" and a growing itch to get back into writing yuri (HOLY SHIT I'M THROWING MY GAUNTLET DOWN) for being inspirations. No idea when I'll start that one, but when it does go up expect infrequent updates; work and money take precedence.
Notes5: Also, can I just say Chromie was a blast to write? She's like that one friend who's always being a smartass to you but means very well. We could all use a friend that is tricky and is nearly at godlike status. And goddamn, this chapter had a helluva lot more innuendos and references than I thought. The latter I can understand because it's intentional (and the fourth wall comment at the end is more or less for you, flowslikepixelz!), but the former just kind of strong-armed its way into the narrative and, well, it's there. Poor Sylvanas lol, imagine if Chromie decided to become part of the not-harem.
"…oh, and while we're on the topic, I just want to say: those costumes suck. I know the Nexus is perpetually strapped where finances are concerned, but these look worse than low budget B-rated movies. Like, if I wanted to rob a bank, I'd at least put more effort into not standing out so much."
"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" Gazlowe asked, bewildered. The robot attached to the back of his chair swiveled as he turned to look at her, head cocked quizzically.
"Yes, that's what I want to talk about. You should care about what I have to say, not the houseborn. When I say something sucks, it sucks." Sylvanas took a card from her hand and put it in the discard pile. "Your turn."
"What's wrong with our costumes?" Gazlowe drew a card from the deck placed at the middle of the table.
"There's no soul in them!"
"You're one to talk," said Countess Sarah von Kerrigan with a contemptuous snort. She tapped black lacquered nails against the surface, and she plucked a card from her hand to add to the pile.
"I look more undead than you ever will a vampire, Bride of Frankenstein. Even Nova's got you beat, and she throws a damn bed sheet over her when she goes trick or treating. That's heart right there, even if it is…endearingly whimsical."
"That's because she's your girlfriend," Cho said matter-of-factly, although with the pumpkin on his head the words sounded as though they were coming from a deep cavern.
Sylvanas sneered. "She is not."
Gall tossed his head back, guffawing. "She totally is! Got 'er wrapped right 'round, baby, right 'round, right 'round like a record player—"
"Chromie, turn up the stereo."
"T-T-TURN UP FOR WHAT!" Chromie exclaimed, and with wild gesticulations from her wrist magically increased the volume on the system. The subwoofers juked and jived and rattled on the counter by the wet bar, drowning out Gall's atrociously off-tune singing. Oh well, at least his face was covered; it made Sylvanas's night slightly better—"Ah~ that brings me back. Or maybe it brings us forward. Why golly gee, Sylvanas, there are some timelines right now where you haven't gotten around to destroying the stables yet—"
"And you're going to keep that shit back where it belongs if you know what's good for you," Sylvanas snarled, and picked a card from the deck. "Now, as I was saying—"
"I think the most important thing is what that lunatic sees in you," said Doctor Wolf.
"And everyone wants to know what the hell you're doing away from Runeterra, Dr. Mundo. I see you managed to keep a brain and stuff it in that empty head of yours where it can grow unimpeded."
"I'm nothing like him!" Doctor Wolf banged his fists on the table.
"Dude, come on, just play the game already," said Gazlowe. "That's a universe beyond us, and that pot ain't getting' any bigger!"
"TURN UP FOR—"
"Chromie, I'm going to turn that jaw up and make you look out the back of your head with my fist if you so much as finish that sentence," Sylvanas hissed.
The gnome put her arms down; there would be no setting the roof on fire tonight. "Oh, live a little! I know it wasn't your fault." Chromie pressed her hands together, like some Hindi terracotta statue showing her namaste. "Maybe."
"I bet it was her fault!"
"Just make your turn, Doc," V said, sigh full of worldly weary. "I got myself a good hand here." Sylvanas harrumphed and tapped the cards against her chin. Doctor Wolf chuffed, removed a card, took another.
Countess Sarah von Kerrigan arched a brow. "So you dragged us all the way out here to one ass end of Echo Town to another to tell us you detest the Hallow's End costumes?"
"And thrice more I will say it: Yes, they suck. There's no soul to them. There's no…creativity at all."
"This skull face mask isn't really a mask. It's actually my face pulled from another tangent," said Chromie.
"And I can scarce believe there are dragons that would want to dress up like gnomes," said Sylvanas. "Much less gnomes that buy cheap material from discount stores."
"The simpler the better, I always say!"
"Brightwing finally grew hair after so long!" said the fey dragon, swooping in from the overhead ceiling lamp. "My braids are so soft and silky…and full…like intestines…." She clutched a blonde strand between her paws, put it to her cheek, and stroked it with all the love a psychopath could afford.
"You nicked a hair growth potion from Li-Ming's alchemical set when she was out strutting around like a peacock in the market the other day. The hat you took off some shmuck's duck statue on their front lawn."
"I'm prettier~"
"Hey! What about me?" Gazlowe asked.
Sylvanas gave him a sidelong glance. "What about you?"
"What's wrong with mine?"
"That's how you always look. I'm surprised it took you that long to even get a paper bag. A shame it's on the wrong face."
"Hey! At the right angle and the right amount of lighting, I can scare people! Besides, it's a recyclable paper bag that's good for the environment and the monies, heeheeheehee!" The robot clacked its pincers together in a display of greed.
"I, too, would be proud to wear a paper bag with a skull spray-painted on it if I wasn't picked often in bush leagues."
"Hey! The Gaz-Lord gets his time to shine, too, ya know! You just can't recognize the potential! I am a mean, lean, green, fighting machine!"
"You mean the machine does the fighting for you. You just have a brain that misplaces that goblin ingenuity all over the place. No wonder you have automatons working for you now; you can just replace them."
"Organics, too!"
"See, the difference between bio-organisms and technos is that you can program technos to put up with your insanity. Organics—meaning you, me, and Duprey—can only handle so much before they revolt or walk away."
"And if the techno somehow gains sentience?"
"Then it's free to choose to leave as well." Sylvanas picked a card from the dwindling and looked at her hand. Almost there….
"And what about us, huh?" Cho demanded. "You think we look stupid?"
"Yeah, you gotta problem, girlie?" said Gall.
"Yes, I do. Those are real pumpkins."
"So?"
"They're going to rot in a few days."
"But these are our pumpkins!" said Cho. "We've been growing them all year!"
"If you really wanted to keep them from stagnating, you should've injected them with nanorite. Hell, even bottled aether if you can buy it off someone or at the auction houses. That way they can maintain their luster even with all the wear and tear they'll experience."
Somehow the lights they had rigged in their pumpkins dimmed in a display of dawning realization. "Oh crap, why didn't we think of that?" Sylvanas heard Cho mumble, and he turned his head to look at Gall.
Gall looked back. "I know! We have two heads. We're smarter than everyone! How is that possible?"
"Having two heads introduces the possibility of being more stupid as much as having them making you smarter. You can be the sum of the whole or one of two parts. That's your call."
"Since when did you take up theoretical physics and metaphysical theology?" Cho sneered. He showed his hand to Gall, who peered at it from the hole carved into his own pumpkin. The ogre nodded agreeably.
"Anything is possible in the multiverse, so much as one particular is bound to the laws of limitation. That, and I've had my fair share of venturing into aether storms on more than one occasion."
"Banshee Queen is very brave! You go in with no split ends, you come back out with afro!" said Brightwing, and she lighted on the dome-shaped shade of the overhead light. Her weight made it wobble, causing her shadow to recline against the wall around them as some dragon-shaped giant.
"Anyway," Sylvanas continued, "since we're deviating from the topic, my point stands. You don't look the part like Sailor V and Dr. Mundo do."
"For the last time, my name is DOCTOR WOLF!" He banged his fists again, and this time the pot of gold, gems, and shards rattled in their sterling steel confine.
"We only look the part because we are the part," said the vampire slayer, whose gaze was flitting between her set and the Heroes seated around her. "It's in the job description."
"So I guess that means you played close to the vest when you betrayed me and hightailed it out of Raven Court?" asked Sarah von Kerrigan, glaring over the top of her cards.
V chuckled, dark and low. Her fangs caught the light of the lamp like twin, glacial peaks. "'S nothing personal, my lady. I just decided being a wanderer passing through was a more befitting occupation."
"In a tide of blood and bodies, I'll say! I still can't wrap my head around the idea that we're continuing this war in the middle of nowhere, playing poker of all things."
"Better me than Vampire Hunter Valla, don't you agree? I'll wager you wouldn't get a word in if she were here."
Sarah von Kerrigan harrumphed and folded the cards down on the table, spreading them apart with the sweep of her hand. Five cards—three black and two red—stared up at them, Nexian runic numbers at the corners save for one: the letter J, and the mirthful, laughing jester smack in the center. A straight flush. "Can you say the same?" she asked, red eyes glowing dangerously.
V cracked a grin and slammed her set down: three sixes, two kings—one calm man, dark and determined, his head bequeathed in silver crown; another, full of light and madness, with a broken scale in one hand and power, a globe of light, in the other. "I have a nice boat and you don't."
The Countess bared her teeth. "Dammit! I bet your girl had something to do with it!" She pointed an accusatory finger at Sylvanas.
Now V grimaced, and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "She's not my girl," she said, trying to sound tough.
Sylvanas blinked, unimpressed. "I haven't even considered using mind control at all today."
"I can see it in your eyes! That shine that says you're in it all or nothing!"
The Banshee Queen sighed. It was almost like talking to a child. "You truly are blind as a bat. If I had bothered to use it, the thought wouldn't have entered your mind until much later. What you see in my eyes is the reflection of the light."
"Bull. Shit!"
"Believe what you want. I don't care. But I didn't put Valeera up to it."
"I've told you this before, Sylvanas, I don't know who this Valeera chick is," said V.
"That's your name."
"No, it's not. It's, uh, left blank like that so my name be anything you want it to be."
Sylvanas snorted. "Right. Show me your sets or draw. We're wasting time."
"Why don't you draw, if you're so adamant?" asked Doctor Wolf.
She shrugged. "Okay," and she placed the cards on the table. An ace, a king, a queen, a jack, and a ten, all in varying degrees of lunacy and deepening red. A royal flush. "Aces high, bitches."
Doctor Wolf choked. "What the hell—?!"
"My money!" Gazlowe cried as he put down his cards. "My beautiful money!"
Chromie took one look at the set. Then she tossed her back and laughed. "Girl! You got lucky! BAM!" She all but threw her set down: three sixes, two red and one black, and two kings, light and dark. "My house is always full, but you're welcome to pop over whenever you like. I have tea biscuits." She winked at Sylvanas, but you could barely tell she winked at all with how much the skull mask covered her face.
Sylvanas balked, taken aback. "Did you just come on to…? No. No, of course not. No way." Chromie laughed harder, clutching her stomach.
Cho slammed his set down. "Darkness damn you!" "You were holding out, weren't you?" asked Gall.
"Maybe. Hey, Mundo, show me your hand," said Sylvanas. Doctor Wolf gave her the finger. "That's great. Now show me the other nine."
Doctor Wolf grumbled and swore under his breath, lips twisting and curling over pink gums and sharp, white fangs that were longer than normal. He fiddled with his cards, bent the paper and played around with them, all while keeping his eyes on them and not at the table staring expectantly at him (except for Gazlowe, who still covered his face, as did the machine, a lot of good that did). Finally, resigned with defeat, he groaned and slapped them down, softly and one by one.
Everyone studied them—even Brightwing, who had her head craned all the way over the lamp so that she looked upon them upside-down.
"Huh," said Sarah von Kerrigan. "Three of a kind."
V clucked her tongue, nodded matter-of-factly. "Not bad," was all she said. "Not good, but…not bad."
"It's okay," said Sylvanas, shrugging.
"Could be better," said Chromie, "but hey! 'S not like we're playing seriously."
"It sucks," said Cho, simple as that.
"It's awful!" said Gall.
"Brightwing can't tell, but if cards are bad, then they are very bad!" said the fey dragon, giggling.
Doctor Wolf whimpered and slumped forward until he almost lay on top of the table, grabbing at his hair and knocking his goggles askew. "It's not fair. It's just not fair." He sighed. "I need a drink."
"BOOM BAM!" cried Chromie, and with a clap of her hands and a snap of her fingers magically mixed a red, red cocktail from the wet bar. She snapped again, and the drink teleported in front of him. "On your left, good sir! Watch you don't knock it over. I call this concoction the One-Two Punch, strong enough to wipe the next three nights away from your memory!"
"Good," said Doctor Wolf, and he sat up languidly to fetch the drink and quaff it down—all in one go. Twin roses bloomed instantly on his cheeks. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, he tipped back in his chair, and crashed to the floor, cold.
Sylvanas blinked passively at him, then shrugged. "Right, you do that. Now that I've said my piece and then some, I'm going to take this pot and deposit it at the bank." She reached over and took the pot in both hands.
"MRRGRRLGRLRL!" A creature burst into the open, scattering gold coins across the table. It had the body of a murloc—fins, four-fingered hands, and soft scales that would not harden for years to come—but its head...it blinked a large, Cyclopean eyeball at everyone. The flower petals surrounding it flapped with each horrific blink.
Sylvanas scowled. "The hell are you doing in there? Get out! This is mine, I won it!"
"Grgrgrlgrl!" The eyeball glared, put his webbed hands on the rim of the pot, and, unsuccessfully, tried to yank it back toward him.
"Then play the game next time instead of falling asleep at random! You might get somewhere in your life!" Sylvanas pulled the pot to her, and the force of it almost bowled Murky out of it ass over kettle.
"Mrgrl mrgl grlgrlgrl!"
"Your costume? Well, it's better than what Team Fortress here is showing me! Although I can't say how you managed to get that thing magically enchanted; you don't even have the right number of fingers and vocal patterns to articulate an enchantment!" Murky shook a fist at her, the eyelid wrinkly halfway down in an angry v. "You don't have the mental aptitude for it! All you're focused on is fish and vengeance for a race that can't stop procreating that won't stop charging headlong into death!" Murky spat, the petals flaring like the hackles on the back of a cat's neck. "Then do something about it! And not with my gold!" She tugged it again, hard, so that Murky spilled across the table and rolled onto the floor. Everyone's heads turned to watch him go until he came to a stop somewhere in the dark of the room with a resounding clash of porcelain and cutlery.
Sarah von Kerrigan shook her head. "Can't believe you're arguing with a murloc. That's a new low, Windrunner."
"He gets the same treatment as everyone else. I don't care who you are and what you do for a living. I don't discriminate."
V smiled lazily. "That's a very bold proclamation. It's blunt, but very…forthcoming. I like it."
Cho'Gall erupted in 'oooohs', 'aaaaahs', and whistles. "Look at you, ladykiller," Cho cackled, "shacking the fleshlings to your wrist without so much as a chain and key in hand!" "You know what to do with those, don't you?" asked Gall, and guffawed to the point the light in his jack o' lantern flickered on and off.
"I have a few ideas!" said Chromie.
"Don't encourage them!" said Sylvanas, appalled.
"We're just friends," said V, waving a hand in the air to emphasize her point. "Everyone is. E-Even Nova!"
"Because wherever Sylvanas treads, default or variant, white lilies will bloom; and all the maidens fair and wondered, scarred and full of aching yearning, from the twelve corners of the Anchors, will follow~ watered, sated, blooming~" Chromie bowed as much as the space between herself and the table would allow, arms sweeping up and down grandly.
"I know where your gravitational range is going to go when I fling this can at you," Sylvanas threatened, and raised her can of conjured seltzer water to throw. Chromie raised her shoulders in a challenging, casual shrug and stayed that way even as the object came hurtling toward her. Brightwing giggled and with a lurch swooped down, catching the can just as it was about to score a hit on the gnome's masked face. She fluttered back up into the dark onto another lamp, turning it over in her paws. Sylvanas scowled murderously.
"So that's why you left my court," Sarah von Kerrigan said to V, deadpanned but with absolute certainty. "I should've known."
The hunter blushed. "I told you, we're just—!"
"Every tsundere says that," said Chromie kindly. "Of course, with Sylvanas, everyone is welcome! You'll never have to wait in line! Except for Li-Ming. Girl's all by herself, thinking she has first dibs, but she'll come to. Sooner, later—who knows? 'S all up to her."
"Yes, well, no one can decide that for her but her," said Sylvanas, and though her tone was terse the way she expressed them was gentle, and Sarah von Kerrigan arched her brows at this display. "Now, I really should get going. Night's not getting any younger." She grabbed the pot of gold—
And a black shape—tall, long, and muscular, dropped down in front of her, wings unfurling. Her blue, tattooed face stuck an equally blue tongue at her. "BLEH!" cried the dreadlord, and grinned. Gazlowe, so lost in his misery, jumped up, screaming shrilly. Brightwing did, too, and glided out of the building through the skylight, can between her paws. Cho'Gall started, causing Gall to form a ball of shadowflame in his hand.
The one-eyed ogre groaned. "DON'T. DO THAT! By Darkness, I think I almost had a heart attack!" He snuffed the flame out.
"We share the same heart, moron!" said Cho.
"If we have one heart, why do we have two stomachs?"
"Oh, not this again!" Cho ran a hand down his face.
Sylvanas blinked at her. "Oh. Great. It's you. The memelord. I totally forgot you were here."
Jaina cleared her throat. "Hm, yes, sorry. Verbal tic from my younger years. Did I scare you?"
"Yes. This is my frightened face." It was very, very blank. "Is that all you wanted to do?"
"That, and I wanted to remind you, yet again, that so long as the fans continue to spread the good word, I will continue to exist." Jaina poked her tongue out and lathered her lips from one end to the other. Her eyes glittered with dangerous mirth. "It does my blackened heart good to know Jennifer still flies into an autistic rage whenever she sees my name on the internet forums and wiki pages." She sighed. "Ah, but to my misfortune, it seems to have dulled since I made my wondrous entrance into the Nexus. That is fine by me; her grumbling and pouting will suffice."
"The default Jaina may be a naïve Poindexter, but even I know she's not stupid enough to go charging into the fray with a piddly staff. Not my fault everyone else there didn't notice and died spectacularly. And I don't know who this Jennifer girl is, but leave me out of it. I've no interest in her, but I'd like to think she'd be just as, what's the word, deserving of a break from you after being constantly intruded upon from out of the blue."
"My mere presence has done more than enough to prove her wrong, and I will do my part to continue reveling in her ire. Creation doesn't care for opinion; only matter!"
"Unless it's pandering."
"Oh, indeed! That's why stories based off other worlds with teenage Japanese protagonists, monster girls, and harems filled with stock characters and archetypes are all the rage! All the material, all the illustrations, all the lovely wives and husbands that are born from the imagination is simply fuel for promotion and ad revenue! Speaking with your wallet, and your memes," Jaina chuckled, "is what makes the creative world turn."
Sylvanas gave a small, knowing nod. "So that's why industries are banking on nostalgia and shitting themselves years later on when their projects are finished and released. They're scraping the bottom of the barrel. One of these days there's going to be nothing left to scrape, and it'll all be because they can't stop applying a coat of narrow-minded politics, diversity, and 'empowerment' for the masses to mindlessly devour. Keep that in mind, memelord…and for Darkness' sake, let go of the pot!" Sylvanas gave a harsh, warning tug.
"BLEH!" Jaina exclaimed. "I mean—Ahem. Oh, poo! You always have to be such a hard-ass. Very well; keep your paltry winnings."
"There's three thousand gold in here. Is hanging upside-down making you high?"
"Where I stand, I stand high above everyone. Upside-down, right-side-up, sideways, diagonal…anywhere I please! Go on, take it. I will simply…mmm, join the next game."
"And what, exactly, are you going to do with gold?" asked V.
Jaina shrugged. "I'm a dreadlord. I play the stock markets, the auction houses, Underdark fencers, online e-commerce, loot box management and microtransaction gouging…I do 'em all! If I can garner the luck of love from shitposters and fans alike, I can pull the luck of the draw and manipulate my way to victory."
"I'd love ya if you were a goblin, lady," said Gazlowe, full of sincerity, "but there ain't no way I'm macking on that."
"That didn't answer her question," said Sarah von Kerrigan.
"The gold? Hell if I know. I'll figure something out. Send me an invite, Sylvanas dear, when you're ready for another match. Toodles! BLEH!" She swung upward into a crunch from where she hung on the unseen rafter, and there came a chittering and squeaking, loud and high pitched. A cloud of bats, gnats, and carrion swarmflies emerged into the light and soared across the room, toward the open skylight and out into the darkening twilight.
Everyone had watched the dreadlord go; even Cho'Gall stopped their quiet argument, blinking.
"What was that all about?" asked Gazlowe.
"You, my friends, have just experienced having the fourth wall broken," said Chromie, taking a sip from her martini.
"Fourth wall? But I feel real!" He poked and prodded his skin. "I know I'm real! I shaved my stubble today and nicked myself in a dozen different places!"
"So that's why your face looks like it got clawed by a cat," V mused.
"HEY!" Cho'Gall roared laughter.
"I wouldn't think so much on the implications lest you lose your grip on sanity," Sylvanas told Gazlowe. "That's the joy and bane of delving into metaphysics. Nothing is true, yet everything is permitted. Or perhaps everything is true and permitted. I don't really care for semantics."
"I'm an engineer, baby, not a doctor! I lose myself in what I'm good at!"
"And let it stay that way. Most people aren't meant for this knowledge, especially when they shouldn't," Sylvanas leveled a stern glare at Chromie.
She smiled cheekily. "Honey, it's my job. Until the appointed day comes when I do lose my ability to gaze into the timestreams, I'm stuck with it. Easy come, easy go. No harm done."
"Still, one thing bothers me," said Sarah von Kerrigan, propping her elbows up so she could lay her chin on steepled hands. "Who's this Jennifer character? A baseborn? A houseborn?"
"Would be nice to know if she's a houseborn," said Cho. "The irony of those blowhards not getting their way would be delectable." "Indeed, indeed!" Gall agreed. "They need to suffer more for their arrogance!"
"She sounds like a normal person," said V, "but whether she's baseborn or not, even I can't say. I'd have to meet her first."
"Well she sounds like a person that doesn't exactly have patrician taste in good design!" said Gazlowe, and nodded smartly over his folded arms.
"Gazlowe, you like any woman that has a rockin' hot body because you can't seem to get on the good graces of goblin women that play the political game and can still afford to keep their money."
"Not our problem you never pay your 'bills' to your 'benefactors' on time," said Sylvanas, clenching her fingers in air quotes.
"And yet the Gazlowe Auto Repair and Bod Shop is still in business! With replaceable, recyclable, programmable employees!"
"Until you fall behind on payments again and the place gets totaled. The next time that happens, Genji, Probius and I will not be there to watch your back." Sylvanas removed a Hammer-Space tube from her rune bag, popped the switch, and discombobulated the pot of gold inside it. Ah, finally. "As for this Jennifer girl: who cares? It's not like she's anyone significant." But she disliked the dreadlord, and anyone who disliked pretentious, asshole versions of Jaina were a plus in her book.
"She is and she isn't," said Chromie with the air of mystery. "Default and variant, an echo across space and time with little to no ramifications and so much more. Just as we all are. A Power among Powers among Powers among Powers—"
"That's great, Hawking."
"Just tellin' it like it is. But you're right; we shouldn't think on these things too hard. Where would be the fun in that? Anyway, who wants another round?" Chromie snapped her fingers, and the empty glasses and cans levitated in the air. She indulged them with a mischievous smirk.
Gall raised his hand. "Ooh, ooh! I do! I do!"
"I need one for the road, count me in," said Cho, sighing tiredly.
"Screw it, I just want to forget. Lay it all on me, baby!" Gazlowe cried.
"Anything that tastes like blood is a steal," said V.
"Just like your heart," said Sarah von Kerrigan, and gestured for Chromie to continue.
"I'm going to the bank. I want to see Mundo out of here when I get back." Sylvanas grumbled, and pushed her seat out of the way to get up.