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Total Votes:[ 1804 ]
Name: Lord Thorvek Dathas
Age: roughly 36. looks a bit older due to constant worry.
Appearance: A rather rotund man, dark-haired thin-bearded man of regal bearing, clad in a white metallic breastplate protecting his girth. He wears a noble's shirt underneath, with predominately blue sleeves with red ovals. He wears orange pants and thick leather boots. At his side hangs a worn sabre with a bronze pommel.

Thorvek's gaze darted about the room to make sure the question wasn't aimed elsewhere. Giving a nervous chuckle, which was more like a rumble, he spoke, "Well, I suppose my middle name is Goran... But I don't see any use for this kind of information..." The man wrung his meaty hands, glancing about the assortment of strangers, "I don't suppose these creator fellows theoretically controlling us can use it." Covering his mouth, he coughed while looking for another. It was, after all, his turn now. "...but... I suppose you could answer this for me... In what measure would you consider a man loyal to his country?"
Name: Kira Rogers

Age: looks about 18

Appearance: 5’3” fiery red hair pulled up in a pony tail with bangs. White coat that goes down to her knees which hides an hour glass figure. Light blue wide cut shirt and cut offs. Her eyes are golden an innocent but a mind thinks behind those eyes.


Kira is grinning ear to ear because of the conversation. She looks at Thorvek. “It seems all around my world every man thinks his country is the best out of all the others.” She crosses her arms and holds one hand on her cheek. “I am afraid one of these days a war may spring up; though I am happy to see such dedication in the world, or pride, even. Everyone expects a certain degree of quality and productivity in everyday matters. I quite enjoy watching people trying so hard just because it is their profession not because of a paycheck. No, usually the people here would rather trade instead of using currency. But as I watch the world grow, it seems we may be drifting from this respectable idea of working hard. Many are starting to take the easy way to life instead of the right way. It is a slow process but I have been around long enough to see the change. Of course this will not effect my work ethic nor the work ethic of anyone under my care or hire. ” Kira looks around while she is trying to think. “My world is a modern world that clings to morals and values but it is vastly different from the “controllers” world. So my question is, how is your world different from your “controllers” world?”
Armayra's avatar

Romantic Explorer

Name: Rox Shi
Age: 16
Appearance: He stands at the short height of 5'0", with short, slightly spiky blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Well for starters, I have no idea what you mean by "the controller's world" so I can't give you much of an answer. Unless you're talking about where gods live or whatever. If that is what you mean, then how in the world is someone supposed to know what that place is like?" Rox shook his head. This girl was really just spouting nonsense. "Controllers" ya right. He took orders from no one but himself. Well, maybe he'd take a few from his brother, but that was another story. "Now, picture this: you are ten years old and suddenly find yourself homeless. What would you do then?"
malkerine 's avatar

Tipsy Gekko

Name: Kim Yue Wen.
Age: Nineteen.
Appearance: Slight and small, the apple-cheeked boy possesses an almost cherubic appearance with his porcelain skin and plump rosebud lips. Floppy brown hair hangs low over wide brown eyes, almost touching the upturned snub nose. The lopsided sneer that curls one side of his lip and the missing left eyebrow clashes unexpectedly with his appearance.

The lad yawned obscenely, revealing sharp little canines.
"Muh, ain't no biggie. I'll go knock on some of my friends' doors, see if their families will want to put me up for a night or so. Me dad and mum kicked me outta the house for a coupla weeks when I was eleven. Kinda the same deal, I guess."
Folding thin arms across a narrow chest, he leaned backwards in his chair, allowing his legs to flop loosely open.
"Still, if it's permanent ..." A moment of mock-thought. "Yeah, I'll do the same thing all over again. Alternate between living with those two -" With that, he jerked a thumb towards his two companions. "- and get myself a part time job to put some money in my wallet. I don't wanna get picked up by the government. They'll send you to ******** places." All this was said with a flat hard conviction that said that authority could not be trusted, no sirree.
With that said and done, the young boy jabbed the person next to him with an elbow.
"Oi, you. So, 'bout them homeless people. You scared of 'em? D'you even give them cash, or just think to yourself that it'll be better not givin' 'em money cos they're sure to spend it all on drugs and booze?"
Name: Luna
Age: twenty
Appearance: very long black hair... medium hight and blue eyes.

The young girl with the mental age of a sixteen year old teenager was quite alarmed when the Kim jabbed her.
"What? Oh the homeless people?!" she thought then thinking a bit to herself.
"Well, I'm not scared of them. I find them neat. Some are good friends of mine!"
She said feeling rather unpleasant in the company of so many people.
Luna eventually calmed down and pushed away that feeling, especially when she saw the person that was sitting across her.
"So...Hi there. How are you feeling today" Luna said, almost fainting from a short social anxiety attack.
Savior_ofunsafespirits's avatar

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Name: Ailya Fayriss
Age: 20
Appearance: Chocolate brown eyes and dark nutmeg hair. She has a slim, hourglass build and is average height.

Ailya started; she hadn't expected anyone to address her. In fact, she hadn't wanted anyone to address her. The only reason she was here at all was because Arren had made her accompany him. Speaking of Arren, where had he gotten off to?

He's probably off firting with the other girls, she thought to herself with annoyance. She noticed after a second of fuming that the other girl was still looking at her.

"Oh, um..." she struggled for an answer. What had the question been again? Oh, right, the girl wanted to know how her day had been.

Ailya shrugged, looking away from the girl. The girl unnerved her; she'd travelled all over her country and had hardly seen anyone as happy or carefree as this girl—and the girl had just had a panic attack!

"No better than yesterday, or the day before that," she said dully, before stopping to consider that for a minute, "Although no worse, I suppose..."

With that she sat back and brooded, trying to figure out what her question should be. She decided on one that hit home—at least for her.

"Have you ever completely discarded your duty?"
CaptainShroom's avatar

Liberal Lunatic

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Name: Captain D. London
Age: Still in the first quarter of life.
Appearance: Enigmatic and strangely beautiful, he stands at a mediocre but impressive height with a sprightly athletic build that is heavily draped in all manner of things- namely a large coat with reflective brass buttons and a belt that, if studied closely, carries the words 'perfection is but a tomorrow away' engraved on its buckle.

"Quiet now girl, you're saying it wrong. You meant to say 'disregard', not discard. And what
sort of question is that anyway?
" he says, pointing at her an accusing gloved hand,

"You'll have to be more specific!" he cries in alarm, "What duty do you speak of? Do we even have ONE true duty? No, wait, don't answer that- your words are empty and self inflating. The more you talk, the better you feel about your self. It gives me a headache...," he shrugs her eyes off him and digs the heels of his gloves into his eyes- covered as they are by his oversized goggles that almost swallow up his face.

"Now listen, all of you, especially you Sir. What is behind that door, over there, in that darn corner??"
malkerine 's avatar

Tipsy Gekko

Name: Lis.
Age: Older than you in dog-years.
Appearance: Exceedingly tall and broad-shouldered, Lis is flat-chested with grey hair cropped close to her bullet-shaped head. Her nose is blunt and wide, seated above an even wider mouth and separating two large, long-lashed, almond-shaped black eyes. Dressed in a plain green sweater, stone-washed jeans, slippers and toting a steaming cup of takeaway coffee.

She raised an eyebrow.
"Am I really that manly?"
And then she looked down at herself, in her long-sleeved sweater and baggy jeans - the folds of her clothes effectively concealing all tell-tale curves.
"Yes. Yes, I suppose so," she answered herself, and then she took a little sip from her cup - the smallest of smiles curling a corner of her mouth.
"We wouldn't know. Unless we opened it." And so saying, she rose to her feet, set her cup of coffee down carefully on the floor - "Be careful of your leg," a muted warning to the person seated beside her - and padded over to the door.
Resting one large hand on the wooden knob of the door, she gave it a twist - it gave! And so, the door creaked open carefully, carefully - ...
Nothingness lay beyond, wide and empty, stretching on for an infinity.
"Creativity has met its untimely end here, I see."
And she shut the door again, letting it close behind her with a soft thunk.
"Would anybody here try Kopi Luwak? Which is, incidentally, made out of the Asian Palm Civet's poop. While on the subject of gross foods ... What's the strangest food you have ever tried before?"
CaptainShroom's avatar

Liberal Lunatic

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Name: Captain D. London
Age: Still in the first quarter of life.
Appearance: Enigmatic and strangely beautiful, he stands at a mediocre but impressive height with a sprightly athletic build that is heavily draped in all manner of things- namely a large coat with reflective brass buttons and a belt that, if studied closely, carries the words 'perfection is but a tomorrow away' engraved on its buckle.

"No Sir!" London shouts, shaking his face in disappointment, "What a lie! It is made from coffee berries! Passed though the digestive track of a small mammal yes! But still coffee berries all the same!" he says with great passion, because in-correctness deserves to be treated with great passion.

London looks over at the door-behind-which-lies-nothing, "Why would you do that?" he remarks, in relation to her opening the door "It was infinitely more interesting when the door was shut. You will ruin everything if you persist with such madness!"

Still not having answered her question, he seemingly makes no effort to do so, and has already become distracted by a strand of his own hair, "Quickly, quickly,somebody do take a photo, see here how the light catches!" And again, he turns and suddenly a thought flips behind his eyes and he says in alarm, "Is one a prime number?"
Name: The Infinity Unit
Age: Constantly shifting through time.
Appearance: What appears to be a blue-armored astronaut, wearing a helmeted head with a large reflective red visor. He actually floats above the ground, and his appearance seems to shift with each slight movement, the armor weathering before being replaced by a similar set.

As the question is asked, the shifting form halts, and the visor gleams before darkening. There is a slight grinding sound that's heard before a voice, synthesized, but clearly male, speaks, "Well, according to a multitude of variables, it might not be, but according to regular mathematical theory, it is. I am assuming that is what exactly you mean by the question." The armored character lapses, the armor weathering and shifting to a far more streamlined appearance.

"I believe I have a question that ought to be considered..." The Infinity Unit's visor cracked and brightened slightly, before being replaced with a new one, shaded purple, "If someone found out their memories had been replaced with those of another, or even fabricated ones, would they still be the same person they were before the alteration?"
CaptainShroom's avatar

Liberal Lunatic

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Name: Captain D. London
Age: Still in the first quarter of life.
Appearance: Enigmatic and strangely beautiful, he stands at a mediocre but impressive height with a sprightly athletic build that is heavily draped in all manner of things- namely a large coat with reflective brass buttons and a belt that, if studied closely, carries the words 'perfection is but a tomorrow away' engraved on its buckle.

"Wrong!" London snaps, "One is most definitely not a prime number. A Prime Number can be divided by itself and one- so have two factors. One only has one factor- itself! So it is NOT a prime number!" he shakes his head again at the blue astronaut, and wonders how something that sounds so clever could get such a fundamental question incorrect.

"And to answer your question- no! It is the consciousness that makes up a being. If my consciousness and memories were to be transplanted into another body, it would still be the magnificent me. If somebody's consciousness were to be transplanted into me, then I would no longer be me. Unfortunately. What an awful waste of me." He seems to become depressed at the thought, and buries his goggles face in his gloves. After a quiet moment of silent, he finally says;

"If you die, would you like to be remembered or forgotten?"
Russian Ivan Braginski's avatar

Interesting Regular

Name: Vess Blide
Age: He appears to be in his mid- to late-twenties.
Appearance: Average height, about 5'9", he has an amount of muscular toning, most noticeable in his legs. His hands are calloused and scarred, and various types of relics of injury mark his skin, almost everywhere but his face. His hair is blond and extremely messy. While his brown eyes appear kind, a permanent smirk says otherwise. He wears a long black coat that falls to the middle of his calves, slightly displaced by a messenger bag over his shoulder. Underneath this is a dark blue T-shirt and black pants; he seems to have a flair for dark colors and mystery. Looking down further, he's wearing slightly faded red Converse, extremely scuffed and worn. He has an air of self-confidence about him.

"Would I like to be remembered or forgotten after death?" repeated Vess. He laughed; it was an almost unsettling laugh that seemed to be filled with dark humor. "That's easy. If I had my way, I'd already be completely forgotten; I'd erase myself from the records." He speaks with a sort of confidence almost impossible to overlook. "So, I suppose I'd rather be forgotten." The man paused. His fingers twirled a pen in his hand unconsciously. "Then again," he said, in a more serious voice, "It might be nice to be remembered. I'm like my infamous reputation as it is—why let someone else steal the spotlight?" The way he said this and the way he was grinning immediately said: 'This is a joke. Laugh.'
Nobody laughed, though. Vess was extremely prone to saying things only funny to him. He realized this fact, and his grin faded away. Spending so much time in his line of work, i.e. alone doing the odd kidnapping, theft or murder, was taking a toll on his sense of humor, as well as the size of his ego, which was already enormous.
He glanced at the posters on the walls pointed out earlier: "Well, I read somewhere that it is very helpful for getting to know your characters by interviewing them. So here is a varition on that excersise . . ." God, he felt like he was being used as a puppet or something. Just another character in the story, doing the bidding the author without realizing . . . He felt watched.
"So!" He quickly brought the attention back to him, as it had drifted in other directions in his minute or so of thought. "I'm supposed to ask a question now, right? Here goes." He wracked his brain for a question that would be fitting to the situation, whatever the situation was. "First thing you'd do if the world ended and you were the only survivor. What would it be?"
Name: Darktalon Hashmal, a.k.a. Hashmal the Dread
Age: About 40-ish. doesn't care.
Appearance: Towers at a total of nine feet, clad in knight's armor covering most of her body. that which is exposed is but black scales, save for her large wings and tail. The feet and hands end in clawed talons, and the opening in the visor holds two glowing white eyes, in constant glare. In one hand she holds a large heavy looking blade with a purple gem. it is surrounded by an eerie miasma.

Hashmal spoke before anyone else could, her voice rumbling with laughter, "Heheheh... Mission accomplished then. I suppose... I'd take a nap." The massive creature is short and to the point, although she sounded more akin to gravel than anything else. She looked pleased with her answer, as the blade she held pulsed. She turned her attention to it immediately in annoyance.

"Shut up, you ingrates, I'll get to that part!" Looking back at the others, she chuckled to herself, imagining ways of rending them apart, especially that annoying armored blue man...

"My question is simple. There are two paths towards progress, one filled with the products of science," she gave a slight nod to The Infinity Unit, "the other filled with the ways of spellcraft. Both have wronged you greatly in the past. Which would you choose to assist?"
The Questioneer's avatar

Dangerous Seeker

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Name: Kira Morozov.
Age: 32-ish, though he looks younger.
Appearance: Tall, not as tall as the one who spoke before him, but tall nonetheless, standing at a height of six-foot-three; his frame slender to go with the height. Light brown hair falls in front of generously lashed, slightly slanted grey eyes. His skin is extremely fair, and flushed from cold weather. A scarf and gloves cover up his neck and hands, and he wears a long coat that covers up his clothing, except for boots and the hint of grey trousers. He appears, at this very moment, extremely irritable.

The man stands just inside the door, having recently come in from the blizzard outside. "I suppose a path of science," he says. The voice he speaks in can be described only as light, and he has a prominent Russian accent. He sounds more than a bit irritable. "As It is the one I am most familiar with." Kira does not want to say anything else, but feels an inexplicable urge to say more. This is most unlike him; he is usually quite antisocial.
"Science is also the path I would choose," he continues, "Because I do not believe in magic and such similar things." There is no gawking from the small crowd in the room as one might expect, just silence, as if they wait for him to say more.
Right, he realizes. He has to ask a question now.
A question. How would he come up with a question; he rarely asked questions, preferring to keep a conversation short as possible. "My question is," he speaks more slowly now, "If you are stuck in the desert with a friend, but you have only enough supplies for one person, would you save yourself, or let the friend live?" The attention slips away from Kira, and he is glad.
CaptainShroom's avatar

Liberal Lunatic

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Name: Captain D. London
Age: 24 and three months.
Appearance: Enigmatic and strangely beautiful, he stands at a mediocre but impressive height with a sprightly athletic build that is heavily draped in all manner of things- namely a large coat with reflective brass buttons and a belt that, if studied closely, carries the words 'perfection is but a tomorrow away' engraved on its buckle.

London stared at the Russian without restraint, and wondered when it had started snowing outside.

It had certainly been no blizzard when he arrived.

It took some time for the question to sink into him, but when it did, he immediately drew back and frowned- though his heavy goggles hid his eyebrows from view.

He unclipped them and pushed them back into his hair. Glaring at the Russian, he said with an angry clip to his voice;

"Save myself of course, have you any idea how hard it is to make the conscious choice to die? You should be ashamed of asking such questions- they're very alarming! Think of the children tall-man! What of the children?!"

He wanted to hit the man round the head and make him sit down, but the foreigner was taller than him, and seemed already angry enough. Though London never lost a fight, he feared he might lose this one.

"Such nonsense," he murmured, tearing his gaze away from the grey eyes, "Hypothetical situations are such nonsense! Here's a REAL question for you, one that's not ridiculous; Who's your favourite superhero?"

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