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"Er..." August averted his eyes, "W-well.. I can't even pronounce your name- And.. You kind of mention you live much longer. I'm going to pass." He rubbed the end of his sweater sleeve, "Er.. Um, well, also- I find you a little.. confusing."

"Hmm..." Alicia pondered for a moment, "I will have to pass. I just don't think we're compatible."

"My apologies, dear, but I simply can't respect someone who dislikes pickles. You can make them into bread and butter chips, dill spears, slices, you can put them on hot dogs, cheeseburgers, jambalaya, shawarma, Falafel... The uses of a properly made jar of pickles are nearly endless. Even if you think its only use is being dumped down the sink or trash, that is still a use. You cannot deny the inevitability of a pickle and the sheer omnipotent power of an entire mass-produced jar." Sentinel was trying not to literally split the sides of his suit with laughter. He decided to go with the most trivial, inconsequential quirk about Alicia and go with that. Why? Number one, why not, and number two, its the funniest thing he's seen since he saw Shakespeare eat it onstage while reciting a poem.

It'll have to be a pass for me. No offense.

...

The eyes behind the vixen mask couldn't have been more disintersted. Of course, someone like Apollo was be just the kind of person her grandparents would absolutely adore to bring up as a potential suitor... and just so totally not her type. It wasn't even that there was anything inherently wrong with the guy himself, just... argh, it was as though someone had mixed all her Aliprandi relatives into one. A condensed Clan mix. The mere though made her want to run for the hills screaming!

"Listen..." she began, knowing she had to word it carefully, because if her grandfather so much as got the wind she had rejected their idea of a good match, he'd not let her live that down. "For first thing I want to make clear that it's absolutely nothing personal, Mr. Sterling. Surely there are a lot of women who would be enthusiastic to consider you a romance option, but..." I am allergic to steroids, I am allergic to steroids - no I can't say that out loud, grandmother Isabella would chew me out-- "... I believe that we are absolutely, beyond any doubt, incompatible *and* unsuited for each other. You see, I have very specific standards, and you - regretfully, and surely for no shortcoming of your own - just don't meet them in the slightest - and I mean that in a very caring way. More to the point, I am afraid that romance does not figure amongst my topmost priorities at the moment, what with a very busy schedule that requires time and dedication - I'm sure you understand that only too well."

Her eyes smiled the sad smile of a businesswoman about to shoot down a deal that she was very, very, very sorry / sarcasm / to be unable to greenlight. "So! I find myself in the circumstance where it must be an undisputale pass for me. But you know the saying, try again, you'll be luckier!" In departing, there was a touch of frost to her eyes. Not even for something the man had done wrong - more out of the annoyance of having to shoot down the umpteenth high society mannequin that her grandparents kept throwing her way. She wanted nothing to do with their ilk! She wanted...

Not that they'd ever give a damn about what she wanted, anyway.

....

The man tilted his head as he took measure of the merchant of little words in equal silence. Of course, that was until A'sallit decided to open his mouth.

"Odd that it is how you detail so much about yourself, your parentage and your worth to the world, but it speaks nothing about who you are as a person."

"Now, I've had my fair share of sampling merchants and coin-pinchers, of men and women who not only dream of grandeur but realize it. Helped put some in the ground, myself, but all of them have a distinct personality to them they do not hold close to heart, for is there such a need? After all, they possess the touch of King Midas and the appetites of Ozymandias--and we know what tale of woe they are doomed to become."

"So my question to you is this--why do you not have a voice to yourself? Is it buried, deep below discipline and the need to strive in matters of business? Or has all of it been scrubbed clean, and you've already killed it with your own two hands to make someone else happy, and convinced yourself that success is your voice? The blood of a conglomerate is a heavy curse to bear, and I would know that roles made to become a name washes away everything about a person. And you don't even say anything with regards to the people around you--is that truly the hallmark of a businessman? It further lends credence that you simply don't know who you are."

"A very long story short--no. Pass. I wouldn't give an ilm of my hair to a person who knows nothing about themselves, only to fulfill the needs of their materialistic family. Even for all your riches, if the only thing in yourself is a dark abyss where others hold their conscience, I wouldn't even let you spare a glance to me. They see you as a means to an end, my dear. If all of this has gone in one ear and out the other, may you retain at least this; I pray the void in yourself be filled with something more substantial. You have a long, miserable life ahead of you."

Sali eyed over A'sallit politely, his gaze less wary and more skeptical. He was known for being such, but he didn't want to be overly critical. One had to take their chances with this sort of thing, he supposed. And to that end. . .

"We have some things we can relate on, I believe," he admitted. "I don't know you at all, but I do know everyone has someone they want to protect. I can tell family is precious to you. I can respect someone who holds that in high regards, more than anything else."

He shifted, a bit uncomfortable with himself. He's been through a lot, so he tried not to rely on others too much.

"I don't know how you heal others, but I think it'd be a good discussion, if you'd ever desire it. Admitting you don't know something is the first step to keeping an open mind, I think." The last words a tic his sister shared. "I'm. . . conflicted. I wouldn't be so forward as to flirt with a stranger, but I wouldn't turn you down outright if you approached me. If romance is something you'd want to consider. . . let's talk about something else first, okay? I'm not exactly open on the courtship scene right now, but I'll think about it."

Jorgé stared at Sali for a moment, they then said quietly, "No."

They didn't mind Sali's appearance, but did not like the title of his.

They then looked at him again, thinking of something that amused them, "Cara de bebe." They smiled slightly, pointing to Sali's face, "Baby face."

Jorgé took their hand away, before saying quietly, "Cuerpo de hombre." They pointed to Sali's chest, "Man body."

(Pass)

The crimson-skinned Daeva squints for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nope. BIG Pass. Yer just a kid. Have fun with that Mine Craft thing ya got goin' on there. I've got no clue what that is!" He dons his bizarre, wide-brimmed hat before giving a friendly finger-guns gesture to the stranger, finally spinning on the heels of his boots and taking his leave.

(Arianna)

The blonde woman seemingly couldn't take her eyes off of him. Whatever he was, her curiousity was peaked. Though she didn't speak a word until he began to walk away. "Romance.." She almost whispered while blushing, with a shy smile that she immediately tried to hide with a turn of her head.

Trying not to show too much pity in his eyes, Erin couldn't help but look over the beautiful young woman. Hell, she looked like an angel on earth and he couldn't help but wonder for a moment what stories those soft lips might hide. Yet he was a man with different objectives and she definitely wasn't one who needed the extra danger in her life.

"Sadly for now I'll have to say pass. Though if the little guy's father gives you any trouble, give me a call." Being a bit discreet about it, he handed over a small black card without a name, only a phone number. Giving a slight nod, the tall male walked away, not wanting to waste any more time than he already had.

She looked at the face of death's right hand man in his empty, hollow sockets like it was an old friend. For all intents and purposes, it was indeed like seeing someone who frequented the same club.

It was frightening, but she didn't look away. Death is a promise. There is no point fearing an eventuality.

It took a while before she spoke, but only in hushed tones. Despite the words of faith her Father instilled in her, despite the all-too-straightforward trains of logic he molded her mind in, the countenance of entropy itself was a fearful thing to behold.

"I'd invite you to a drink, but as far as I know, you likely don't even need it. So, I know this pretty place with fireflies and stars once the sun sets..."

She looked the woman over a bit, deciding but decided they were too different “I’m going to say pass…I don’t think you could handle the underground scene without going in a little too deep. I’ve seen my fair share of gentlemen and ladies alike get in over their heads, but regardless, you seem interesting.”

"You seem charming -- and you do have lovely eyes," Maisi complimented with a friendly smile. "But unfortunately I'll have to pass, I'm not into women."

She carefully looked the woman over before settling on her face with an almost shy smile. "I've never been attracted to a woman before but you interest me, for some reason. Hmm.. I would give it a chance if I was not married and if you were into women."

Ilakha's gaze met Lina's only briefly before she turned her gaze downward, fumbling with her fingers. Her toes point inwards as her tail twitched at the tip behind her.

"Wow," she breathed. "Um. . . you are actually. . . uh, you are actually really pretty. I wish I was as pretty as you. . ."

She was always nervous around people she gauged as exceedingly aesthetically pleasing and she scolded herself for it. Why couldn't she be as cool-headed as her big brother?

"I, um. I would ask, if you, uh. . . wanted to go on a picnic or. . . you know. But! You know what! Never mind. You are married and I would not get between you two. Or three. I am unsure how many spouses you have. Oh, gosh, this is awkward. . . forget I said anything!"

It seemed she would pass for now.

The wolverine's eyes blinked, then widened in astonishment as he took in Ilakha's appearance. "... woah. You're-" He wasn't sure, himself - she looked, and his nose confirmed, like several creatures at once. Aside from the obviously - and quite attractive - human features, there was more; she had scales, yet she wasn't entirely reptilian, with awesome fangs and badass claws... but at the same time she did not seem to be a full shapeshifter like his pal Sprite. One of those mixed-species hybrids like ol' Frills and his equally strange loking boyfriend?

Well, in this case it seemed whoever created her got the mix just right, if you were to ask Burt!

"... you're unique! And ten times hotter than the flamin' hot steak I had for dinner yesterday!" he finally exclaimed, a long appreciative whistle following those words. And immediately, being Burt, he began to flex like there was no tomorrow. "Those claws of yours look pretty mean! But so do mine, I ain't called Wonder Claws for nothin'! Ya wanna hear about that time I single handedly fought down a horde of zombies?" Okay there had been just one zombie warlord on his zombie horse BUT SURELY THE REST OF THE HORDE WAS RIGHT BEHIND-- "One roar o' mine and a look at my flamethrower 'n they hit the road, betcha they still are runnin' to their zombie mamas! Heh! I could run after 'em with my bike, of course, but - y'know, no fun, zombies are so lame, I take down bigger game!" He puffed up his chest and rolled his sleeves to make sure his strong manly arms couldn't possibly go unnoticed. Now... right for the win! "Looks like we could be quite a badass match, wanna go on date? You're single, right? You're into guys, right?"

Please be into guys, please be into guys, please be into guys...

(Romance. Or maybe not because Burt Never Gets A Date (TM) XDDDD)

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen anything like you..." Asheron quietly commented, seeming to be in a slight shock as he observed the creature infront of him. "Though I have to apologize, you aren't exactly aligned with preferences of mine but I have a feeling you feel the same." Shuffling awkwardly for a moment, Ash tried to figure out how to handle the situation, not wanting to seem rude.

"Though I'm not interested in romance, maybe we could try to be friends? I know a nice bar downtown if you're interested..."