shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

(Oneira sips from a steaming mug of something, leaning on her bar counter)
Wow, you guys have issues.

 

i AM a responsible person. VWAY more responsible than she vwas.

but, fine. end up dead and/or vworse. vwhat do i care.

 

i hope you do the same. nowv if youll EXCUSE me, i havwe important people to talk to. (spoiler alert: youre not important.)

 

tell me about it. been trying to get the one-eyed little prick out of my basement for days nowv.

hurts business to havwe a vwiggler running around in a mature establishment.

 

hello, hi, i havwe a name and you knowv it (: right?

 

no. you should be missing more fingers, vwhat happened to the mousetraps.

 

im a master levwel thief, vwhy vwould you expect me to hawve lost fingers from that? also, you need to stock up on more rat bait. you ran out.

 

*DEEP exhale.*

*He hates children so goddamn fucking much.*

 

Ah. Interesting. That wouldn't ask for us, but it is an intriguing method!

Shall we speak in Licentan, then? [They intentionally prevent whatever they say next from being translated; it sounds like an unholy combination of static, feedback, and tearing metal.]

 

*She replies with a horrible gakking sound, like she's trying to cough up a hairball.*

 

What language is that, then? [Their wings flick, amused. Is this organic a juvenile? She certainly acts like a sulky sparkling.]

 

its fuck-you-lish.

 

Your Accent Is Terrible

 

hubba hubba.

 

Oh Fuck Off. Im Not Interested.

 

and thats vwhy youre so obsessed vwith me, right??

 

[Definitely a juvenile. Not their responsibility, though!]

Ah! A dialect I've never heard, thanks for enlightening me.

 

Hardly. But If Youd Prefer I Can Always Just Start Ignoring You.

 

like you could!

 

-summons headphones and a pair of sunglasses, bodily turns away from Itch-