^ "My goodness. I don't know what historical catalogues you're speaking about, but may I know where you got them? I haven't signed autographs in years, and it's better off that the world should stop knowing who I am... or once was. I am a father working hard for my family, and not a musical artist."

< Hope was a singer since he was a child and has pursued the career until he finally became an elementary teacher. It took him quite a long time for his popularity to finally disperse until the media completely forgot about him.

v "You there. You look like you can handle yourself, so take this gun and protect your own hide. This place is going to be troublesome and I rather not have someone that isn't part of this whole ordeal. Hurry up before you get yourself in the middle of a gunfight."

^ "Oh, uh, what?" Alcott juggled the gun handed to him before getting a good grip on it, giving Hope a bewildered look. "What are you talking about? Why are you handing me a gun if you want me to avoid this??" He didn't seem to get any answers. Looking at the handgun, Alcott sighed and looked around, deciding to hurry off in the direction he came. Great. What was he going to do with this?

< Lives a boring, suburban life, nothing spectacular or adventurous. Honestly prefers it that way.

v "Hey..." Alcott pat down his body before sighing and looking at you. "You have any cigarettes? I must've left mine at home."

^ - Marcus appeared startled by the question for a few seconds before starting to chuckle, albeit clearly in the uneasiest sense possible. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, sir, I don't know what to tell you, but I don't have any on hand," he stated with a shrug. Based on his tone, it was clear that... He probably wasn't being the most honest individual at the moment. "I smoke, yes, but I don't smoke in public. It's not as dignified as you think when you do it. Plus, it's a pain in the ass to extinguish those cigarette butts once you're done." Marcus chuckled once more, still faking it to the best of his ability, before hastily walking away as quickly as he could.

< - he's just... overall bad at maintaining small talk with people and actually finds it stressful when people try initiating conversation with him in public. it mostly stems from him having a bit of an inferiority complex due to being sidelined for so long, which definitely took a toll on his psyche over time. he compensates way too much for it by acting like an egotistical ass, but it's clear that it's a facade despite his best abilities to make it seem genuine. still, as much as he resents his brothers for being "better" than him, he can't help but genuinely admire their way with words, a trait in which Marcus feels that he was cheated out of by some cruel stroke of luck.

v - Kicking at the ground, Marcus let out a loud curse before stopping where he was so that he could sulk like usual. He muttered something about his older brother trying to contact him under his breath, before looking up and wincing when he saw that someone had watched him engage in some mental tirade. In public. Without even an attempt to conceal what was going on. Well, there went his ego. The older man sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before grumbling, "You know, as much as it's none of your business, I can't help but feel so small all the time, you know? And no, I don't mean it in the literal sense... You know what I'm talking about, right?"

^ "Oi do, I do.. Older brothers are a pain, aren't they, " he said with a huff. He showed Marcus a thin smile. "It 'urts, standin' in someone's shadow al' de time..doesn't it."

< newsflash asshole, your bro is dead for roughly 20 years now. You're still being jealous and you still trying to prove your parents that 'you don't need them' while your 52 years old!

V "av yer ever tasted dis dish called..sourkraut? it tastes gross don't yer tink?" 

^.  He glares, giving Roswell a look of mild offense. "You're gross, don't you think?" His tone is snappy, quick to the point. He gives the patch a singular look in itself, rolling his eyes and scooting away. Distance was the best option.

<. Rane is from a Jewish family and is technically Jewish himself! Jewish culture loves sauerkraut and it's a staple dish in many holidays (at least, unfortunately it was in my family. i hate the stuff). He may not be the biggest on it, but he'll eat it himself every once in awhile. 

v. He shoves past the stranger, minding his body from coming into contact with them. "What's your problem?" Barks out, obviously full of annoyance. "Go stare at someone else in an alley, you creep." 

edit: please tell her i am so sorry for his behavior she DESERVES BETTER!

^. Maribelle was mostly minding her own business. She found herself glancing every now and then at Rane as to keep in check those around her. In fact, she was looking over at him as he rushed past. She flinched away at his voice, expecting something worse than a shout, but then she scowled. "I'm sorry..." she said, doing well to hide her unease, "But, you were... You were just around... I will not look, sir, I promise."

<. She... tries to be polite. Mostly because she kind of sort of doesn't want to get her ass beat by some rando on the streets. Though, she would have really liked to tell him to shit in a hole.

v. "Have you broken a promise?" Maribelle asked the stranger in a rasp. "I've broken one. I made it a couple years ago. Times are hard, so, you know, no wonder. I think it was for the best, anyways. I'm stronger for it."

^ he swallows hard. suddenly, his mouth is dry and there is a knot of emotions forming in his throat. "i have." he admits, a little shakey. congrats, you caught him. "i promised my sister that i was fine living on my own. i really wasn't." he shook his head. "i promised my family i had a job. i'd hardly consider being a thief a job. i stole to survive, not to make a profit."

< those were the hardest years of his life. he left at 16 and was homeless throughout the rest of his high school career. it didn't help his sister was in a forbidden relationship at the same time...

v "what's something that you got in trouble for that you don't necessarily agree with?" he smirks. "c'mon, there's gotta be somethin', friend."

^ "Bah!" she crossed her arms, offended at the question. "For your information, every-time i've gotten in trouble, it was never my fault! NEVER!" she was obviously lying, but her face was red, and she genuinely thinks she's innocent. "For example, when i cursed my babysitter, it was out of self-defense! I swear!"

< Desdemona has the ability to curse people to only feel happiness, no matter the situation. In Bunny and Caramel, she does do this to Bunny, but it backfires and Bunny can still feel her regular emotions.

v "Have you ever thought about taking over the world?" She then pulls out a notepad "If you have, please give me some tips!"

^ - With a thin frown that seemed more apathetic than truly upset or annoyed, Leonid replied quite flatly, "I apologize for the inconvenience, but I do not consume alcohol. It distracts from my work, you see, and I take my occupation very seriously." He twirled his hand and glanced at the watch on his wrist before looking back up. "Besides," the older man added while taking care to insert a hint of contempt into his previously inexpressive tone, "I would not trust anyone when they are intoxicated, least of all myself." It wasn't like he knew, because he pretty much never consumed alcohol in his entire life. Leonid sighed and brushed his hair before finishing, "That is why I just drink water for the most part. It is boring, yes, but it gets the job done."

< - as much as Leonid doesn't really like admitting it because it sort of makes him look like a hypocrite, he's not exactly... new to vices?? he smokes cigars every so often and can actually be a bit of a glutton at times - especially when it comes to sweets. still, he controls these habits enough to where they're not really an issue. and if people claim that's a flaw of his, well... he has his ways of making sure they never say such things about him ever again.

v - Holding a stack of papers, Leonid casually handed one to you while humming to himself. The gesture almost made the stack fall over, which he compensated for by balancing his arms in some weird display of dexterity and flexibility. "Hmph," he grunted shortly after stabilizing the papers; then he turned to you and used his eyes to "point" at the title on it. "I highly recommend you read what is on it," he advised with too much confidence in his voice, "It could change your life, trust me. But as a busy man, I must leave early! Make your feedback quick and snappy, okay?" The paper in question happened to be a poster splattering some pseudoscience about the moon containing diamonds, in order to encourage investment in space real estate. He looked at you with a subtle yet genuine smirk, before asking with a flair of his hand, "So, what about it? I feel that moon diamonds are the way of the future. What about you?"

^ - “Ooh!” Kitana squeaked and quickly scanned the article. Being from space herself, she was very interested. She had never been to the moon though, or at least Earth’s moon. “That sounds so cool! What an excellent idea!” she said, swaying her hips side to side to make it look like she was wagging her tail. ”Actually, you know what? Let’s go check it out now, you and me both! The moon sounds so exciting!”

< - I never gave her home planet a name :( but I’ve always imagined it to be a kind of orange colour with the royal castle overlooking the city. With futuristic houses of course!

v - “You look nice!” Kitana said, looking up (or down?) at the person in front of her. “Tell me, what’s your favourite place to visit? Maybe I’ll go check it out too!”

^ Roswell laughed. "Oh oi'm very nice, " he told her. A big grin appearing on his face as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Ever been to Mosch? De city in de south? It's a Stunnin' place. oi wus born dare, but oi canny return."

< he's being dramatic, he can easily return there but he's afraid too do so.

V "
Yer don't 'appen ter be a person who...murdered...someone, at some point in der lives roi?" He asked, clearly suspicious. 

^ "I was in the army. Of course I've killed people." said Otto, maintaining a friendly tone regardless of the subject at hand, "A little over fifteen or maybe twenty, I'm sure, but by Sonoro, I never enjoyed it. I'm not my uncle. If you want a real savage, go find him."

< He doesn't really enjoy killing people, but he finds those who go around doing it are just funny, because he's an ass. He... kinda sorta really liked watching his father and stepmother die. Ouch.

v "How do you feel about animals?" he asked the stranger, "There really is nothing I love more than to look at the little ones... I know it's filthy, yes, but I adore mice."

^ "Oh, animals?" Serion begins, his head tilting to the side and his eyes fluttering as he moves, which also makes his peculiar eyelashes wave about. However, before speaking up again, he holds out his hand, and as if summoned by an inexplicable order, a blue butterfly lands on his outstretched hand, settling on his index finger and folding its wings. "I don't mind them. They're quite nice, and possibly good companions, if you're willing to train them."

< Serion has a soft spot for animals, although he isn't quite vocal about this. This doesn't really stop him being a prat or otherwise using them for his own reasons, however.

v The butterfly-themed man looks upon the stranger with a quirked eyebrow, resting a gloved hand on his chin and raising an eyebrow at them.
"I suppose you dislike oppression? You look a bit unhappy right now."