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“I just figured you were weirdly small. Do Watchers have runts?” Xander asked only half-mockingly, eyebrows raising at the immediate response.
“Excuse me!? I am perfectly average-sized for a—” Xelqua stopped.
“...For a what?”
“...For a,” The Watcher hunched into itself and checked over its shoulder. Which was completely unnecessary, considering Watchers can always see in all directions, “...Player.”
The last word was whispered so quietly that Xander had to strain to hear it, and even then he questioned if he’d heard it right.
“You’re a Player?” Xander asked incredulously, part insulted that it would try to fool him and part horrified that that was a possibility in the first place.
---(Xelqua is a new Watcher. Xander, fondly known to many as Evil Xisuma, is a new prisoner of the Watchers. Neither of them want to be there.)
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I scream with joy at the whimsy this fic holds, tis now very dear to me
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