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"Generally speaking, I think it's important to have a variety of knowledge and skills... it's harder to get caught in a corner that way. I wouldn't consider myself a 'Jack of all trades', however; I guess I have quite a few skills, but there are certainly things I struggle with, and things that I never really cared to learn in the first place... I'm going on a tangent, though. The point I'm getting at is this: it's good to be balanced. Well-rounded. It makes life easier, a lot of the time."
"This is a much less philosophical question. What is your opinion on very salty French fries?"

"I can't stand them! Too much salt on anything isn't very healthy and you can't even taste the fries that way. Lightly salted or better yet, lightly seasoned."

"What is your opinion of the saying; letting sleeping dogs lie, if it pertained to the long unsolved disappearance or possible murder of a family member?"

The brief moment of carnal pleasure the man is having is abruptly interrupted. He was hungrily munching on a greasy bowl of salty french fries, with a disgusting orange-colored paste on top of it one would guess it was cheddar, but it smelled like rotten cheese. The question makes Revenant choke on his food, right "arm" dropping down to his waist, reaching down for the grip of his gun. He clumsily reaches for the eye patch hiding his would-be left eye, but its a quick realization that makes him stop. That woman doesn't mean ill. Probably. It doesn't make Revenant take the hand off his holster - she can't see under the table he's next to, anyway - but it surely prevents him from reveal what's under the eye patch.

"I-- Have no opinion on that." — Revenant coughs, bits of munched fries coming out of his mouth as he tries to speak, half-gagging. But after a painful swallow aided by cup of strong, sugary coffee, the man takes a deep breath, and addresses Naisha properly.

"Now-- Let me retort; what if you are the one poking the sleeping dog right now? Or--" — His head hinges down, mouth hanging slightly open. There is a long pause, as Revenant stares seemingly at the floor, at nothing at all, before he grinds his head to face Naisha again. "Well, you just ought to be careful when going wolf hunting - lest you become a wolf yourself." — With a monotonous gaze, Revenant gives Naisha a more deserved answer, putting his careful on the table. With a weary sigh, he hides his face behind his french-fries-greasy hand, his left hand, before addressing a passer by.

"That lady there already put me on a bad mood, so I might as well go to a stretch; "What's your opinion on, uh, PMCs?" — He grumbles. After an awkward silent, he adds. "You know, Private Military Contractors? Ugh, mercenaries, gun-for-hires, liberal bodyguards, whatever you 'wanna call-- Call them? Folks say it's a 'dying breed', but I always wanted to get into it."

The brief talk of wolves seems to have made Maisi uncomfortable, or possibly nervous; her arms cross tightly over her chest as if in a defensive manner, and though she tries to regard the stranger politely, there's a slight furrow to her brow.

"PMCs?" she echoes the original question in the moment of silence, trying to decipher the term before she's given an explanation. "Oh! That's an interesting question." She muses on it for a minute, signs of discomfort gradually fading as her mind is given something else to occupy itself with. "Well... I don't know, really--typically I'd say you can't trust someone who's loyal to money before they're loyal to you; but at the same time, I'm sure not every mercenary is doing what they do solely for the money. Right?"
She scrunches her nose briefly in an expression of undecidedness before sighing a little, concluding, "I suppose I can't say I have much of an opinion on them either way, unless it's just being wary of them. I'd have to get to know some myself, or maybe have a few more references to go off of before I made a proper assessment."

The young artist nods, her posture loosening up a little. She lifts one hand to smooth some loose hair back, and for once her fingers and palms seem to be free of any art mediums. "But, I don't know much about the military or things like that. Art and self-expression are a little bit more my speed, though I'm not too sure I'm very knowledgeable about that, either!" Maisi turns her gaze to someone else, asking curiously, "How about you? In your opinion, what makes something art?"

"Anything that you pour your heart and soul into is art! It does not need to be merely a medium of communication, art can be anything that can be perfected! Much like my blade. My canvas is the body of my enemy, and my brush is my sword!!! In this way, even the military that you so readily dismiss can be art as well."


The burly elf frowns profusely, glancing at the next person with sullen, seemingly resentful eyes.

"Despite having claimed everything can be art... tell me.. what is your opinion on Spellcasters?"

"As a man of science, I used to believe that anything to do with that particular tomfoolery was just a bunch of hogwash, as they say," Wilson declared, his stance upright and expression stern. "But, I've learned to appreciate them considering my current disposition. In fact, I've been heavily reliant on those who utilize such magics. If it weren't for some of my friends, I'd likely be dead...again."

Wilson broods, his mind whirring like clockwork as he attempts to piece something together amidst all of the chaos. "What would you have to say about being pulled into an alternate world where you had to start entirely over again?"

"My honest answer? I would have to say that either sounds like precisely what I want to accomplish or another normal Thursday night depending on exactly which world I end up."

"Now a question for you. In your opinion, how do you recognize when something that's shaped who you are is no longer driving you forward, but now dragging you down?"

Typically when it starts hogging computer space or processing power. What is your opinion on considering certain things entirely in nature to be "unnatural"?

The artist stifles a small yawn, looking a bit confused about the inquiry set to her. Her sleeves are down, and the left is smeared with quite a few variations of the colors green and blue.

"Well... I guess it would depend. Just because something is in nature doesn't necessarily mean it's natural for us as humans. For instance--a lot of creatures walk on all fours and it's perfectly normal. If you saw your neighbor doing the same, however, you'd be inclined to think it was unnatural, right?" She shrugs a little. "I guess I'd say that I don't have a problem with someone saying something in nature is 'unnatural' for human beings, so long as it makes logical sense."

Her gaze rests on the one who asked the question, interestedly studying them for a moment before abruptly turning her attention to someone else. "What's your opinion on rainy weather?" she asks, seemingly at random.

"Depends on the climate really." Nicki answers with a nod. "If it's cold rain, then no thanks. If it's those warm rainstorms that you get in Africa or in the tropics, then expect to see me doing a wet t-shirt thing."

"So rainy weather covered, how would you guys feel about snowy weather?"

“Snow? Absolutely brilliant! Mind you I’m horribly bias coming from Canada. Gets a bit chilly here. Can’t stand the heat” he shakes his head and frowns.

“What about the more extreme weather conditions, which one is your favourite?” He asks out loud for anyone to answer.

“As someone who has been in a lot of different extreme weather around the world, I much prefer to be freezing my butt off instead of sweating in extreme humid heat.”

“What’s your opinion on Guinness Stout Ale?”

"I've never tried it, but I guess now would be a good time." Harhi cracks open the can and takes a long slow sip. She then makes a face. "Humans make some unusual tasting beverages. It's not good, but it's not bad either."

"Anyways, to all of you I pose this question: What is your opinion on the control of Dune? Do you think the spice trade to be freely regulated, or would should it be restricted?"

"Spice? who has time fo that?" Drans said popping into existence, "why do people even care about it? I have many questions but 1'll do"

"What is your opinion on interdimensional beings?"

"They're just.. beings. So in general they're fine, although I'm sure certain specific ones are.. less so. But that has nothing to do with whether they're interdimensional or not." (This character actually is an interdimensional being, but wouldn't admit that here, so...)
"What is your opinion on rabbits? Asking for an acquaintance who didn't feel like answering the above question, but still wanted an answer to theirs."

"Slushies?!"

The Wizard gets assaulted by a storm of vile curses. "What the hell do you serve for in this joint?? Kids?!" — He doesn't even question about the origin of the beverage itself. Celestial ice? One small cup of the stuff would be priced in the thousands back in the world he hails from. "At least I'm assuming you serve rabbit meat in here, since you're mentioning it." — He pokes an eye from behind The Wizard's shoulder, hoping to find anything more savory than a 'kiddie drink', but his search unfortunately only yields a rundown (possibly) rack with some chocolate bars. The sigh that Revenant lets out hints that he finds chocolate a bit more palatable. "Well, ugh, those things are vile. The meat is quirky at best but they're ferocious. I've heard of a hardcore gangster that had his finger bitten off by one of-- Wait--"

The man cuts his tale about unbelievable violent rabbits, squinting with his one eye while he recalls the actual creature The Wizard is probably referring to. "These ain't called rabbits. They're jackalopes. Rabbits are a protect species. Some don't even know they exist. How... How do you even know about them...?" — The Revenant's raises his one eyebrow at the GAS STATION's owner, already daydreaming of striking a deal with him. But after moving his head around, trying to realize how this establishment even works in the first place, as "his" ship hovers in the background is a bigger question. It wouldn't be surprising if another entirely different being came across this anomaly in the fabric of space itself and the subject of super aggressive horned rabbits gives him an idea.

"So, uh, what do you think of dangerous wildlife? I don't mean some alien civilization or cosmic dragon or any of that BS. I mean back at your home on your neighborhood, on the local woods or something."

“The thing is...England doesn’t have that many dangerous animals....unless you count people....” he stops to consider the question for a moment. “Maybe if you angered a badger....but..” he shrugs.

“What’s your opinion of the laws in your area. Do you agree with them or prefer to ignore them?”

"I think the laws in Teal Cove are pretty reasonable for the most part. We don't have any of those dreaded HOAs that over regulate. I try to follow them. No reason to cause trouble, although I'm not sure that the phone company would appreciate some of the things I do on their network. I'd rather not talk about that though... what is the technology like where you're from?"

“What is technology like? It is a bit scary what spy agencies do with it. So many people were so worried about their privacy, but then they go and present their lives on the internet for just about anyone to see. I will just say that if you think your cellphone conversations are private, think again. They are in reality radio handsets, and radio waves can be received by anyone with the right equipment. The stuff my fiancé found out before the CIA busted him....”

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”