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"What kind of devil gal doesn't like/love chocolate! Do you like Snuggles?"

"Only from people I know. Otherwise its creepy," He nudges another person, "Do you like music?"

At first, it appears that his question goes unnoticed, as the masked subject appeared to be lost in some sort of daydream. His fingers tapping, apparently to some melody playing inside his helmet. But after a brief pause, it suddenly turns its gaze towards Ira.

"Classical pieces. Only. Nothing of this 'new age' refuse." - Whatever new age meant. - "Skilled with which instruments?"

"Bass back up vocals I've got a lot of talents". Remembering she has to ask a question. "Was Beethoven really deaf?". She asks a stranger looking at her in awe."gotta go bye".Drinks a bottle of Jack Daniels and heads to her latest gig.

"My apologies for saying this, but..." He straightened his tall frame, adjusted his jacket, and smoothed back the top of his snowy hair. Then he gave his unadulterated response with a sharp, passionate tongue and crossed arms. "That has got to be one of the most asinine questions I have ever heard in my entire career of being an accountant." His eyes narrowed to a dangerous slant, the flames of judgemental contempt burning from his hazel orbs. "Please... Pick up a book. Research online. Educate yourself. Otherwise you would've known that yes, Beethoven was indeed deaf. That was all a part of his brilliance in classical music. He felt for the musical notes, lyrics tumbled from his fingertips without a single melody out of place, and..."

The magus held up a hand and took a moment to collect himself from his incensed speech, very much upset by what he was just asked. "Yes, well. That's all I have to say on this subject. Now..."

Maxwell turned to make his leave, but paused midstep as it hit him that he had forgotten something. "...I need to ask a question in return, now don't I...?" Turning to a random soul, he would call for their attention.

"Excuse me. Yes, thank you for you time. I have but a simple... Inquiry for you. Do you feel that today's generation is losing their taste for fine music?" It was clear that the white haired male was still miffed about what he just had to "deal with," in his opinion.

To the perception of the tiny, seventeen-year-old girl (Who most certainly constituted a member of ’today’s generation’) The tall man’s bias was quite obvious. Riley had been sitting off in a corner, looking angry and listening to something through a pair of bulky headphones draped around her neck. The sound was tinny and audible to those in her most immediate vicinity as a mildly irritating buzzing noise.

The man’s question had not been directed at her, and whether or not she actually realized that, it was immediately apparent that the little brat didn’t really care. She had no intention of paying the slightest mind to the rules of whatever game these people were playing - mostly she just wanted to pick a fight with someone exponentially larger than herself. Barring that, she could at least entertain herself by being generally obstinate and obnoxious.

”Oi, dat sowta ‘pends on whatche’fink’s ’foyn music’ loyk.” She spat, confrontationally, speaking in an accent that was so horrendously muddled as to be nearly unintelligible. ”Me, I’s listen’a ’trans-melodic post-industrial neoclassical hypercrabcore’, an I’s fink’s it soun’ real ‘orrashow. An’ even’s you don’t loyk it, ‘at don’t mean it ain’t ’foyn music’, yeah? Royt. S’nau, oy daun’t fink we’s losin’ no taste. An f’yeu do, yeu’s some kin’a music snob an’ye can go @#$% ye’sewf.”

Oblivious to the fact that it was quite likely nobody in the entire place had any idea what she had just said, Riley crossed her arms, nodded with a sagely huff as it to punctuate her statement.

Following that little display of insufferable bravado, the little brat quite intentionally returned her full attention to whatever it was she had been doing previously, stoutly refusing to ask anyone a question because it was in her nature to be difficult.

A beat later, glancing to the nearest of the presumably several people who were now expectantly glaring at her, she inadvertantly foiled her own plans of not asking a question by spittng ”Oi, what’s you’s problem?”. That said, a self-satisfied Riley, unaware that she had actually just asked a question,(Albeit a slightly unconventional one) returned to pointedly ignoring everybody and listening to her music that sounded not unlike millions of elephants being sodomized by chainsaw-wielding howler monkeys inside a Guitar Center on ‘amateur night’.

And from amidst the disgruntled crowd, there was this being observing carefully from far away, ever since it scented the stench of aged, disgusting whiskey. How could someone not be drowning themselves on delicious bicentennial pineappale rum, instead? The atrocity drew his attention close, leaving a man with white-hair to choke on the smog of his eye-burning cigar, just to come face-to-face with this fire-headed - in the metaphorical sense as well - and torment her.

"Me 'FRIGGEN problem is 'dat kids like 'ye don't know their place in 'dis gosh DANGGIT world." - The Captain would extend his engine-greasy hands forward to her ridiculous, punkish headphones, placing one of them in his ear, immediately cringing by the abomination that assaulted his ears. - "'DAT'S WHAT I MEAN, I'M 'TELLIN 'YER, 'ya generation's SCREWED! In spess 'ya don't have 'da same liberty to 'lissenning to some mainworld 'new' age, groaning choir 'o face-painted rebel 'kiddos. 'Ya learn to SIIING up there! SIIING 'da tales of FISHING."


Noticing that the few passerby crowd were still atrociously disgusted at his sea-spacefarer chanted tales, the already enraged expression of the Captain twisted into an abyssal ire. He pointed his fist at the face of the nearest poor sod - or daredevil, most accurately - and almost had the guts to actually violate it's cheeks.

"WAT'S 'DAT LOOK ON 'YER FACE?! Can't you appreciate some REAL 'FRIGGIN TASTEFUL MUSIC?!?"

"S-Screaming doesn't count as music..." Iranican looked completely stunned at the sudden chaos, running a hand through his bright blue hair and biting his lip slightly. "Am I the only one that thinks music isn't just about screaming or instruments...?"

"Music can be anything that anyone wants, really... So, I suppose not?"

"How would you quickly end a fistfight? I don't mean fleeing, I just mean, how would you knock someone out?'

The tall man lights up, a rare grin crossing his face. "Oh, that ones easy. Just land a punch square on the tip of the chin then it's lights out. It needs to be a good one though." he says with a shrug, his index finger tapping the point of his chin.

"What is one of the most embarrassing things you've ever done? If you don't mind sharing of course."

"Getting caught by my bosses wife while having sex with her husband among my many achievements". Thinking quickly she asks the first person walking by her. "Isn't Valentine's day the most romantic day of the year?".

"I should think not. It's a trite holiday that attempts to measure the depth of one's relationship on entitlement to chocolates and flowers as a sign of affection. If your love is truly meaningful, you'd learn to put aside a callow tradition and make your own time to nurture it. Any day could be the most romantic if you're willing to put in the effort."

"What would you say is the most important part of building a relationship, platonic, business, romantic or otherwise, and what it the most destructive thing to a relationship?"

Having close relationships at all is risky and often not worth it... But I guess it would boil down to honesty and loyalty. With those a relationship would grow, without, a relationship would fail.

Even though you didn't really know someone, would you miss them if they disappeared? Would you miss me?

(how do you answer this again?)

"I definitely would. Please don't disappear..."
> She turns to a window, and asks an outsider.
"Would you lay your life down for all you hold dear?"

((Like that, Wolfzone92.))

"I would umm.. Lay my life down for literally anyone.." He shrugs and looks away before glancing at a random person, "Whats the best season?"

"Winter, as it paves the way for spring. All die, for the new to take place. It's as I, erasing Everything to pave the way for Everything"

"Now answer me this little riddle of my. With the flick of my wrist, I raise empires from the ground. The block in my hand crushes what would have been past, present and future. I am all and nothing in this world I have created. Who am I?"

"Like I think about things like that. I do men more my homework. I'm late for my homeroom class because of this question thanks to you mister".She grabs somebody passing by her."Was the Roswell crash in new mexico faked or real?". She gets in her car checks herself out in the rear view mirror and drives to her high school.

"Good question. I have no idea. You're asking the wrong guy, and besides...I still wouldn't be inclined to do anything if I DID know."

"How ethical can war be? I mean, people break the rules of war all the time..."

"War is unethical but hey I got a leadership position in my new army. Female empowerment". Looking over her encampment she points to one of her many admirers. "You yeh you who really discovered america?".