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"Shhhh."

"The person below me can't read a lick of common..."

"The warning signs can't stop me if I don't know how to read!"

"YOU! Beneath me! You're a terrible hoarder. Maybe you hoard something super specific and probably kinda silly, like that one guy I met who hoarded a lot of old books."

"It's not a hoard. It's a collection. One simply never knows when one might need a chest full of marbles. Or books on moon rituals of the Frogmen. Or rolls of wire. Or books on herbs and culinary. Or 349 empty glass containers of various sizes. Or a pile of damaged chainmail. Or ...

"Is this a ploy to know what treasure you might find in my tower, cat?"


"The character below has been sold at least once in their life."

" It was just a candy bar and I was 4 at the time so I wasn't that bright at the time. But hey else I got away with it and I am coughing it up! "

" The character below me is obsessed with the supernatural "

"Absolutely!" Mixie chuckled happily. "I love supernatural beings so much! I love their looks, their presence, their taste.... Quite an honour to be one."


"The character below me is a cannibal. Don't be shy, doll, I'm just as guilty as you are... Hahahahah!"

"Well what other meats are there to eat in the underworld for a demon but other demons? Ehehehehe! Well... I suppose the immortal souls of sinners, but... still... sometimes a weaker demon is easier to find."

"The person below me.... has sinned enough that they are practically guaranteed to end up in hell. Ehehehehe!"

"Think I might need a preacher man real soon ... "



The character below is a grandparent.

"Yeah- It's complicated but out o the five kids, I got two grandkids....And they keep asking me for money....Their both five by the way-"

"Anyhoo! Continuing with the family theme, the character below me is an aunt or an uncle!"

"My sister Jane's got a few kids, back in Tennessee. I met 'em a few times on the years I gone home for a visit, but not 'nuff to say I really know 'em all too good. Which I reckon is my own fault."



The character below has a missing or extra appendage.

"Behold!" Mixie holds her four arms out to her sides, boasting great pride. "Wasn't born with these, but now that I've got them, you could say they're quite... handy?"

Mixie cackles as if that were the funniest thing ever.


"The morsel below me is an alien!"

"From your point of view, I suppose I would be. Though I doubt I would taste very nice. Nor would I be as easy to be turned into a meal as I perhaps look."

"The next person shares my lack of sight; but also shares the capability to function perfectly unhindered without it."

“I do sometimes lack insight, but manage anyway.”

The character below me has a really awesome walk.

"An awesome walk, huh? Yeah, I fit that. Sometimes a strut. Sometimes a prowl. But, oh baby, I always look fine doing it!"

The character below me is a tourist.

"Be, I-I am not! I have been here for some while now, since I have come back to The Line Between."

The troll bobbed her head intently. And yet. . .

"Well, I was a tourist when I first came to The Line Between. . . and since I have been elsewhere in Europe on visits. . . oh, that does make me a tourist, does it not? Dreamer cities, human cities, alien cities. . . I suppose it does not matter much to me. I want to see them all! I want to buy all their handicrafts, all their treats, all their clothes! There is so much to explore. Ak-walet are just too interesting to avoid."

Raising a hand to her mouthless mask, she cleared her throat.

"The next person lives in a nation ruled by a king. Hopefully - but not necessarily - a kind one, such like our own beloved King of Trolls."

"A king yes," Wilson said beaming, but his features quickly shifted to something flat and expressionless. "Kind? No."

The ludicrous young scientist gave his upturned sleeves his full attention, meticulously tugging them with a showman's flair to his elbows before continuing.

"The Constant was designed with sufferers in mind, I'm afraid. You must understand the curse before taking up the throne or your ignorance will be your undoing. You see, the royal seat is a revolving door so to say. Anyone can be king or queen, but the post itself is a tired gimmick. The real ones pulling the strings -- the true rulers of our wicked realm are not the monarchs perched atop their shadowy ceremonial chair, no. The real power lies within the ancients, within Them!"

All the while, Higgsbury gestured emphatically, spoke with a manic vehemence of someone whose mental stability may well be questioned by those observing others, but the certainty was there. There was assurance in both his tone and wildly pitch-black eyes.

And as quickly as the seriousness of the subject had manifested, the emotional trainwreck that was Wilson P. Higgsbury shifted just as suddenly. He was grinning once more. It was off-putting to say the least.

"I am privy to a nice, well-fitted waistcoat, how about you? A good vest makes for the perfect aesthetic of a fine gentleman or lovely lady! Surely the next kindred soul agrees?"

"Aesthetic? Yes", Robin answered, "but I wouldn't personally wear one."

"The person below me likes walk through the forest."

(Laudomia, 2nd gen)

"Forest?" Laudomia fanned herself vigorously, eyes widening behind the glasses. "Walking in the forest? Oh dear goodness, that sounds terrible. Leaves, mud and dirt on shoes! Dirt getting everywhere in clothes! Don't get me wrong, a nice holographic representation of woodland slideshows is pleasing to watch at - but only in so far as there's a holoscreen inbetween!"

"But actually being out there? In the wild? Holy Chanel, why I'd never--! We are civilized people, we belong in megacities and proper society!"

For a moment she still looked too appalled by the idea to present her own question. Then, adjusting her hair self-consciously, she went on: "Speaking of which.. the next person may be a lonely old gentleman?"

Ori was in human form. Looking like a badly aged Jacob Wright in his mid-40s. He was sitting on an overstuffed chair, loosely holding a glass of scotch.

"I may not be exactly what you're looking for, but I'm here nonetheless."

It sat its drink down and stared at the fireplace in front of it, the fire inside reflecting off of its vibrant blue eyes. What was it that Ori wanted? Of course, it had always desired human souls to torture and feed off of, but those were mere animal desires, something it needed to live, to cling onto its desperate mortality.

"The next person shall be someone who is dark and yet vibrant."

" Personally I have no choice but to be engeric due to my family. Though I don't mind it really unless my mom frog Frankie gets away or tries to steel my soft ball equipment. "

" The person below me comes from a crazy family "

Jim laughed heartily at the blatant exposition. "You know, thinking about it mathematically, not even taking into account the others I won't bother mentioning in my family, I'm probably more than enough to skew the average to qualify."

He shrugged his shoulders in exaggerated nonchalance, "I mean it is what it is."

Moriarty then sighed a wistful, tired suspire before he turned his attention to the other. "I think it would benefit me to know that the next individual is an efficient sort -- in business that is. I need to know that there is competence out there or I might just lose it and wreak a little havoc as penance."