#and these two IDIOTSSS

[maybedr3am]

Evil reflective detective ejej...

Full ass comic here tho, they are so in love your honor.

[human-souls-buy-dopamine]

So we changed it up a little bit, but the general vibe is still there, I think???

Xynn took a final gulp of the glass, draining the last drops of whatever alcoholic beverage it had ordered. It just kind of pointed at something and hoped its stomach would forgive it in the morning, and it considered the fact that it wasn't writhing in agony right now to be a good sign.

Damn. Is this how people became alcoholics? If it was, Xynn could totally understand. Granted, enjoying alcohol is a tough task for most Enderborn, considering the low tolerance that the race as a whole possessed. How in the three dimensions Xynn was drinking this without a problem was beyond it, but all it knew was that it didn't particularly care.

It didn't care, nor was it very aware of its surroundings. That would explain why it hadn't noticed the three Rottenhearts staring at it from a few tables behind, shrouded in almost comically villainous cloaks.

"Ssshut up," one of them hissed, their eyes glowing a brighter green as if to emphasize the point. "You idiotsss are gonna get us caught."

The heterochromiac of the trio rolled his purple-and-red eyes, flashing his fangs as he spoke. "Oh, yeah, like your fang-speak isn't gonna give us away, little Mx 'i-can't-sssssspeak-normal-Ovorlian,'" he mocked, dramatically extending the 's' sound.

Cloaked green eyes narrowed, probably about to mutter a greatly offensive curse in Enderian, before the third member of the party shushed the two with unnaturally long claws.

"Can you two stop arguing like babies? Stars, why did Her Eminence have to pair you buffoons with me," she muttered.

Both pairs of eyes facing her narrowed. The green-eyed Enderborn spoke, "Don't question Her Eminence's decisions, you know that sounds like tr—"

In a flash, a clawed hand had gripped the speaker's neck, in a manner so silent that nobody seemed to notice. The heterochromiac watched in wide-eyed silence.

"Don't you fucking dare even insinuate that I'd disrespect Her Eminence— I've more rank and respect for her than either you combined."

The hand squeezed tighter, dangerously close to cutting off circulation. "Got it?"

"Y— yeAh—"

"Good," she said, releasing their (now bruised) neck. "Let's do our jobs instead of arguing like fools."

The trio continued to observe Xynn. They'd, at first, deduced that it would be easiest to elimate it if they waited until it inevitably suffered the consequences of consuming alcohol with an Enderborn stomach. With all luck, it would go outside before passing out or throwing up, and they wouldn't have to craft an alibi.

"..is... is it— Oh, my stars, it's ordering another?"

They all stared in shock. Just one glass should've been enough to debilitate most Enderborn, and those with a higher tolerance should've been sprinting out of the door by now. What the FUCK was this guy on?

"That's— That's not natural," green-eyes muttered.

"Its eyes must've gotten too big for its stomach, that's all," the long-clawed member of the trio stated, though not sounding very convinced of her own theory.

They watched as Xynn took a massive swig.

"..I don't know about you guys, but I am not going to get myself killed trying to fight this— this cryptid of an Enderborn, if it even is one." Heterochromiac stood up. "I'm telling Her Eminence that something's gone wrong."

"No," green-eyes hissed, trying to pull him down again, "We can't come back empty-clawed—"

"I want to be able to come back in one piece, thank you," the other said. A small group of purple, floating particles swarmed him for a moment before he disappeared, having teleported back to the group's home dimension.

"Curse that ⌿⟒⏃⍀⌰⎍⌇⟒⍀—" green-eyes said, teleporting after him.

Somewhere nearby, a glass shattered. "Stars, how many times do they have to be told not to use Enderian in the Overworld? Starsdammit," long-claws grumbled, teleporting in chase of the other two.

Meanwhile, Xynn finished its second glass of..

"Hey, Bartender, isn't this supposed to be alcoholic?"

"Technically, yes, but my grandmother had a friend like you, and she's told me about how your kind tend to have weak stomachs."

Xynn blinked. How did this Overworlder know—

"So, I hope you don't mind, but I've been serving you sparkling apple cider."

You are incredibly tired and depressed so you go for a walk, you go to a bar across the street, in it are several world class spies and they think you are the underworld crime Boss, your casual behavior terrifies the sh!t out of them.