“Put something in your stomach to absorb the alcohol before you spontaneously combust from the fumes. (Nykyrian)Yeah, it’d be a damn shame to blow my internal organs all over your new shirt.(Syn)”

“(He took a drink of the juice and cursed.)What is this shit? Poison? (Syn)You can’t live on alcohol. (Nykyrian)Wanna bet? (Syn)Wanna die? Drink it and quit bitching. (Nykyrian)You know, you’re a little hairy to be my mother. (Syn)”

“Not to mention, we’re using you for bait. (Syn)Are you that drunk? (Nykyrian)What? I wasn’t supposed to tell her that? (Syn)I’m bait? (Kiara)No, you’re not bait. Ignore the alcoholic whose view of reality is distorted by his brain-damaged hallucinations. (Nykyrian)”

“I’ll check on you when I get home. I love you, baby. (Kiefer)I love you too, Daddy. (Kiara)What the hell was that action? (Syn)I think it’s something called ‘paternal concern.’ (Nykyrian)What…? You sure? I thought that crap was a myth. (Syn)No, really. I watched it once in a documentary. It was fascinating. Believe it or not, there are people out there who actually have feelings for their progeny. (Nykyrian)Get the fuck out. No way. You’re screwing with my head again, aren’t you? (Syn)No, I swear. You just saw it with your own eyes. I did not make that shit up. (Nykyrian)Yeah but it’s really messing with my concept of the natural order of the universe. Paternal love? What’s next? Limb regrowth? Genetic splicing reversals? (Syn)”

“No, it was the brutal loss of his family that haunted him and for that Nykyrian couldn’t fault him at all. Syn had been put through a meat grinder by life. The fact that man could still get up and make it through a day without blowing his brains out amazed him.’ (Nykyrian)”

“Was there much damage done to your ship? (Nykyrian)No, not really. Just enough to seriously piss me off and ruin my suckass day. (Syn)”