^ Mar blinked at the other slowly, his head tilted to the side. “Unhappy?” Confusion painted his voice, matching his furrowed brow.  “I’m just hungry.” He was content to leave it at that, until he realized that—“Oh, you asked me something else.” Another moment passed as he pondered the other’s words, ending with a shake of his head. “As long as I’m fed regularly, I’m fine with anything.”

< Oh, he HATES being oppressed, he’s just good at pretending that he likes being submissive. If there’s a chance to regain freedom, he’ll risk anything for it. Similarly, he doesn’t like seeing others oppressed. 

v The shapeshifter fiddled with his sleeves nervously, his gaze pleading. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about hunting, would you?” One hand let go off the fabric to rub at the back of his neck self-depreciatingly. “I’ve been given the task to hunt a specific beast, but… Well, I’m bad with stuff like traps and timing. Would you mind if I observed you hunting? I can pay you, of course.”

^ Initially, Ishmael shook his head. He was just a farmer, after all; crops were his expertise, not traps. It wasn't like he never ate meat, though, considering that he needed at least some source of protein to sustain himself and his family so that they could continue to work on their farm. The animals in their life were mainly the livestock they raised, as well as the occasional bird or insect that would show up to steal some of their bounty - a nuisance that Ishmael often spent his autumns dealing with. But the proposition of money made him stand up and tilt his head.

"'Pay me,' you say?" he reiterated with a tilted head, "I am no hunter, to be sincere, but I can work with that. Money is hard to come by when nobody wants to buy the crops you sell and taxes are high." Ishmael sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A few extra coins can do no harm." He had no idea what he was going to get himself into, but he didn't care; at this point, the desire for material security triumphed over his regard for his own safety.

< - Ishmael has no clear preference for meat or vegetables; he likes both because they keep him nourished enough to last for another day. (as for dairy, he doesn't see that as practical for him in the long run since it spoils so easily.) in terms of making some money, he obviously prefers livestock because they sell for more, but they also take up more land, which is frankly something he doesn't exactly have in abundance. as a result, he's sort of forced to specialize in crops out of resource constraints. at least he's perfectly fine with eating vegetable medley soup like... almost every night lmao.

v - Gnawing on a cabbage leaf plucked from a head that he had just harvested, Ishmael eyed you with some apprehension, clearly placing emphasis on your appearance before getting up from his seat and walking over. Each step was heavy with tension and hesitation, and it felt that he was quick to run the other way if the incoming interaction went south. Once standing about a foot away from you, he tapped you on the shoulder, cabbage leaf still in his mouth.

"Excuse me," Ishmael stated calmly, "but you seem to have a decent amount to spare." Finally, he took the cabbage leaf out of his mouth before sighing and coughing into his sleeve. His voice now hinted with melancholy, he added, "Mind if you buy some vegetables from me? From my farm? I managed to harvest a decent surplus this year, but it is difficult to attract consumers around here, and I do not wish for my crops to rot from neglect. They are still fairly fresh, however. I am open to haggling as long as it is within a reasonable range, too."

^ It wasn't the poke on his shoulder that got his attention - in fact, it was like he couldn't even feel it with how he didn't react at all! - but the voice. Hayes spun around to face Ishmael, swaying slowly in his stance as blank, button eyes stared at him and his cabbage. It could have been because he didn't really have a face, but he didn't seem to react to the young man's comments until one word made him freeze entirely.
"Farm?" a scratchy voice rasped out of the scarecrow. He quickly got close. "You have. Farm? I protect. Protect farm. For you. Want farm. Want to. Protect! Free. Protect. For free. From birds. And people. Protect plants. Cabbage. Protect farm! Show me. Farm!!"

< He's a scarecrow that was given life after his farm burned to ashes. Now he just wants to find another home/farm to protect.

v "Fire. Is bad. Burns. Away everything." Hayes shook and looked around nervously at the mere mention of fire. "Fire bad. Dangerous. Takes everything. Took. My farm. Home. My. Home. Fire is. Bad for you?"

(I'm gonna CRY Shadow Boss is his HERO NOW)

^ Shadow Boss grabs Hayes and shakes him! "You and me both friend!! Fire IS bad. VERY BAD! AND dangerous! We SHOULD be afraid!" He suddenly stops shaking and begins to pet the scarecrow softly, cooing him. "SHHHHHhhh... Shhhh... It's OKAY!! I'll protect us BOTH from those awful flame. I am a HERO you know. One of the good guys! Just like how it has done you harm, it also chases away my shadows!" Shadow Boss hugs Hayes tightly, "Look at you! You're shaking! Look what that evil EVIL element has done to you!!"

< Absolutely hates fire. Probably extended from his hatred for dragons, or possibly because fire does ward off shadows. He had a rival back in the day who was a dragon. Lets just say it got real nasty between the two. Dragon was able to build his clan and Shadow Boss had his own, it was Dragon Clan VS Shadow Clan. He would never admit because of dragons, that he now hates fire.

v "Well I am NO stranger to rivals. Got plenty of them. They all want a piece of me! They say I'm not a team player and I don't play well with others. Clearly I was just better than them! HAHAHAHAH!!! Tell me, who was your greatest rival!"

^"Al' de time, can yer believe it?" Roswell asked. He lay his hand on his forehead as if he was measuring his own temperature. The discomfort these so called 'false accusations' could, in his eyes, give an innocent man like him a fever.  "Ah've never done, any 'ideous crimes in me entire life," he boldly claimed. "An' yet people keep callin' me, wee ol me, a thief." Roswell snorted. "De nerve people 'av nowadays."

< He would never publicly talk about his.. job.  But everyone knows what's up.

V "Ah've never seen yer raun dees parts. who ye? ye lost laddy?"

^ - Atticus narrowed his eyes at the stranger, muscles clearly tensed as he scanned him for any sign of vulnerability. Anything he could use to do some... Prying. Investigating. Definitely something that was a bit shady. A smile, almost a sneer, emerged on his face in the process. Did he find anything? Probably not. Still, Atticus was a smug son of a bitch, and verbal banter was definitely something that was up his alley. In other words, the game was on.

"I could claim the same for yourself," he answered dryly with a shrug, "You, too, are a stranger to me, so returning the question isn't a completely null option, isn't it?" Atticus's expression quickly returned to one that conveyed absolutely nothing as the lad sighed and took a step back. "Listen, it's perfectly possible that we're both lost and someone's not willing to relent, or we could be perfectly capable of navigating ourselves and just choose to assume otherwise. Nothing comes by accident, sir."

He turned himself in the other direction so that he was facing away from the other man before concluding, "This appears to be no exception. I really wouldn't be surprised if an element of this was planned..." Scanning the floor, his eyes brightened slightly, but such a change was only apparent to himself. "I might be getting a bit metaphorical, though. Where's the nearest library anyways? I need to do some research for something."

< - he has a terrible habit of being vague when it comes to speaking, always dancing around a question or just... making up excuses to throw in philosophical treatises that relate in absolutely no way to the topic at hand. some of his rambles do provide actual insight into his character and situation, but a lot of it is just meaningless chatter that he uses to make himself seem more dominant. he actually knows what he's talking about; he just chooses to make his speech extremely jumbled in the hopes that the confusion generated will give him some advantage over the other party.

v - With a furrowed brow, Atticus looked up from his book and calmly spoke to you, "It sure is a good day to read, is it." His voice was almost flat and totally lacking in inflection, but to be fair, it wasn't like this was an unusual phenomenon for him. Almost recklessly, the young man leaned himself back against his seat, continually adjusting his posture so that he didn't crash to the floor with a thud and somehow clutching the book in his hand. "Say, out of curiosity, what do you like to read, if at all?" he asked while glancing down at the pages, then back up at you, "I personally enjoy it myself, although the inventory of books available where I come from is restricted for... Political reasons." Atticus rolled his eyes and muttered, "Stupid father," before adding in the same tone as before, "There's a reason why I spend my time at the bookstore, after all. But please, don't tell anyone. It'll probably cause a riot at home, or something like that."

^ "Mosquitoes? Gods, I can agree with you there. They're awful pests back home, and where I am now, they're not much different." Just thinking about them made his arms itch. He resisted the urge to scratch them. "But, I've been told I'm an ass for not liking things. I don't like the color yellow, so I'm called an ass. And I hate it when the girl brings in her bugs, because... you know, I don't want fucking bugs all over the house. It's shabby as is." He then huffed, and with a nod to himself, he added, "Been told I'm a bitch for not liking dogs. Big dogs, small dogs, they're both bad. Only good for the meat."

< He does not like... a lot of things. He has a hard time actually liking things, which makes him honestly a real buzzkill.

V "You'll have to tell me," he sighed, "What is your favorite place to visit? There aren't a lot of... urban areas here to visit nowadays. Just a ghost town. Back where I'm from, though, I liked going to this pretty bar by the river. Wish I could go again."

^ "Oh my," Diskus sighs, leaning his head on a knuckle and closing his eyes as he reminisces. "I recall perusing a lovely seaside bar during one of my travels. The drinks were delicious and patrons even more so. But I can't say that I'd come back for another visit - not a big fan of sand." He hums, digging through his memories for an appropriate answer. A moment later he looks up, his visible eye snapping open while a smile tugs at his lips.

"Actually I do recall something. A current favorite you can say. Nowadays I like to frequent this little bar called The Hell Hole. The entrance is hard to find, since its tucked in an alleyway, but I assure you its quite a spectacle on the inside. Granted I've seen much more lavish bars, however their best features are in the atmosphere, an interesting variety of drinks, and," His expression softens while his visible eye is bright, twinkling with emotion as he continues. "The employees are an interesting assortment of characters. They don't fail to amuse me with their antics. The bartender especially, I-" He cuts himself off with a sheepish grin. "Apologies. I might have gone a bit carried away. Aside from bars I also enjoy visiting flower fields and taking in the scenery."

< Diskus is a thrill seeker. He likes barhopping in hopes of something new and exciting coming his way. So far he's been getting some thrills out of his new favorite bar.

v "I recently learned that there's a secret language of flowers! I find it fascinating that different kinds of flowers arranged together can give off different messages. Do you like flowers? If so what kind do you like?"

^ "Yes. Many have useful medicinal properties. Ralinian bog-flower grows like a weed here, and is good for reducing inflammation. It is also very pretty, despite its name. Some would call it a pest, but it is a favorite both in my remedies and my own tastes."

< master herbalist. Got an affliction? Adriel knows a plant.

v "Does something trouble you, stranger? Ailments of the body, or the spirit... I sense something in you. I certainly have the skill to help you, and perhaps even the time, provided you can reimburse my efforts..."

^ He smiled nervously, as he rubbed his hands together, "m..me? No..no, " he made a dismissive gesture. "I'm perfectly fine, really my good madame. Thank you though, you're too kind for asking these things."

< is brought back from the dead and now tainted with Void energy. He's in contradiction to Salvador and Nathaniel, especially the later, super chill with being a Void Zombie.

V "my dodo... Seems to like you, " he said with a big smile. While holding up said dodo. Blue the dodo looked at you with it's big old eyes before, screaming with a terrible, awful, noise. "Are you good with animals?" He asked you once the dodoe screaming stopped.

V Cecil you deserve the world and a dodo to pet

^ Despite the serious expression he tried to maintain, his eyes widened when he saw Blue. "I am DECENT with animals," he replied, still staring at the bird. "I MYSELF have three COCKATOOS and am quite HAPPY taking CARE of them. I also ASSIST with our K-9 UNITS. Now if I MAY, I would GREATLY ENJOY petting your DODO. I have never SEEN one before."

< He absolutely loves birds. During his days off and sometimes his free time you can see him at the park feeding pigeons.

v "FREEZE and put DOWN the WEAPON! You are under ARREST!!"

^ "Weapon!?" the larger man scoffed while showing off his clearly empty hands, "I think you have the wrong person, lad." He had no idea he was severely underestimating this stranger's age, but since Alexander was so tall, he really did look like a young boy. Not that he could tell the difference, anyways. It was so long since he had last seen a child... The thought of it made the corner of his mouth twitch slightly, as if he was tempted to start laughing on the spot yet refrained from doing so. Goodness, though, was it so hard not to start bellowing with merriment! For someone as small as this stranger to go to someone like him and tell him that he was under arrest... That was the weirdest - yet funniest - situation he had been in a long time. Wiping a tear from his eye, he gave him a pat on the head while teasing, "You know, if you think a person like myself is a criminal, wait until you find about the people who engage in fraud for the sake of love, ha!"

< - man's still clearly salty (and a bit hurt) over Sofia deceiving him into marrying her lmao. that asides, he isn't... that innocent either?? he probably broke a few anti-trespassing laws while on the road, and even after settling down, petty thievery wasn't exactly something he was above doing. still, the main "crime" that almost all his associates focus on was the fact that he... wasn't the most faithful husband in the world. it's technically not illegal, but it definitely put a major dent in his repute. he sort of cares about that, since it destroyed virtually all of his important connections, but at the same time... he just... doesn't.

v - With a huff, Alexander shuffled around in his definitely-not-crusty-as-fuck pockets before pulling out a piece of bread that was... Somehow not moldy? It sure smelled like lint, though, and even had a few dust bunnies on it. Ew. The offering itself was enough for him to smirk, even letting out a "heh" as he looked at you with a smirk.

"You know, I like bread..." he mused nonchalantly, "It's such a plain piece of food, yet it's so versatile too. One can only appreciate how bread can pop up in virtually anything yet still taste good." He brought the slice to his mouth and started eating it. Yes, the dust bunnies were still on there when he bit into it, without even flinching at the lint odor. "Also, anyone who says bread is boring is lying to themselves. They just haven't had a good sandwich, or even a bread pudding." He lifted up his half-eaten slice before chuckling to himself. "Hell, even bread by itself has the potential to be good. I'll be damned if I didn't consider eating slices of bread every day for a solid week. A month, maybe..."