“Where are you going? (Nykyrian)To get a drink and kill Cruel…not necessarily in that order. (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)”

“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)”

“What the hell is that look for? You finally grow a conscious? (Syn)No, but we can’t go around assassinating respected officials. (Nykyrian)”

“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)”

“So long as you’re not a snap, you’re safe. (Nykyrian)Snap…Syn used that term. (Kiara)Single. Naïve. Amateur. Person. (Nykyrian)”