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"I once tricked the sun god into going to Antarctica because I told him I put his sunstone there." he said with a snicker "What was the best thing you've ever tasted?"

"Curry bun, it was delicious and first thing I ate when I escaped from the lab", he held out his hand, "What is your favorite drink?"

"What is your favorite drink? The one in my hand? What time of day is it? The one in my hand right now is a double Jack Daniels and Coke as it is just past midnight, I just got home, and I don't have to go to work in the morning.

"Pfft, yer so damn sloshed ye forgot to provide me with another question, eh? Been there too. Right then.." Way Artie saw it, her wisest method of approaching this was to pick the game up right where it'd left off: which was, once again, the favorite drink question. A personal fave, for sure! "Well, although A cannae say a lot of good things about that rural bum-end offa moon that A grew up on, A do believe that their brewin' game is somethin' else. Our neighbors, like sixty footmiles down the road, they brewed some type spirit from their leftover akkan plums, and let me tell ye, nothin' can get ye drunk faster while also tastin' good as hell." Her teenage years'd even been more frustrating than her childhood, but one thing she didn't look back upon with a frown was her first-ever drink at 15. "Ye got to warm it up in a kettle an' throw some root-nectar in there to make sure the tartness won't turn ye face into a wrinkly mess, but damn if it isn't the sweetest, fruitiest cup of booze A've ever had." She wasn't the only person in the galaxy who had to feel that way, though.. so maybe if she was lucky she could snatch a bottle from a HeritageShop™ one day.

"But aye, enough about drinkin' already, let's get to the next question-" Whether Artie liked it or not, memories of her farmer days of yore had crawled to the surface of her gray matter.. and it made her stomach feel weird. "What's yer favorite texture to feel on yer skin? Ye know, like, material, be it clothes, some substance or otherwise." Remembering certain feelings, like the clouds of dust blown off the fields and into her shoes, or the warm lick of a cattle beast's junior on her cheek, felt about as tricky as they did heartwarming. Gods, it'd been so long..

The feeling of whooshing into hyperspace, it was really something else. The stars freezing around her, a cool blur of blue and white; but she knew it was hot, of course, the bluer pinpoints that stretched into green and black space clouds. When the static image outside of a vessel juddered and blurred, and the inside of the vessel - cockpit, bay, or wherever - jolted and felt as if it was all lifted, tugged, pushed at once. Her hair flying up and then back down, sweat at the small of her back and her neck.... But the best feeling was the closeness on her skin, as the air pressure automatically sealed and then released slightly for smooth travel. That, or the feeling of an elastic metal band on her wrist, marking rank and mission importance and a bytemessager; those and a good bath with steam and flowers in it, cool tile on her feet and dampness around her, were the best feelings she could think of.

"Not much, but what's your favorite unusual flavor for a sweet? Like liqueur in chocolate, or french fries with syrup? Well, I guess that's not really a sweet... But, dessert?"

Even if Cris's eyes were smiling behind the mask, for a moment there was something wistful in her voice as she replied. "Mine... well, you're familiar with mochi? I absolutely love them with matcha stuffing - ah, that'd be green tea paste. Sometimes there's even the ice cream variant, better for summer months. But even in winter... they're just great at the end of meals or as a snack. Sometimes I still get to make them in the weekends..." She had been playing absently with a little cookie cutter as she spoke - and when she looked down she realized she had picked, maybe out of habit, the heart shaped one. She stared at it for some instants, and when she next spoke, the smile had disappeared from her eyes.

"Well, still on the subject of food... what's your favorite place to eat at for a treat? Fast food, sushi. pizza place, cafes....?"

Nina the lush blushes... "Yes, I was pretty drunk... sorry!"
"It's not very imaginative, but I love the beef French Dip at Beacon's Alehouse and Bistro about a half mile from where I live. It is always a treat as they are consistently good! I made sure everyone knows it too with my five star Google review!"

Nina drains her wine glass and sets it down.

"What is your favorite article of clothing?"

“My cloak”, she held it close to her with a weak smile. “Before my mother died, she made this cloak”, she said.

She looked up, “What is your favorite sport(s)?”

"Does sleeping count as a sport? I think I could be sleeping world champion. I do love to sleep."

"What is your favourite method to fall asleep? Not that I ever need one, but... I've heard some people have difficulty sleeping."

"I try and do some yoga and meditation, and concentrate on breathing exercises before bed. I also avoid coffee and caffeinated tea after 2PM."

Nina looked down and brushed out a wrinkle from her singlet she was wearing and asked,

"What is your favorite type of music to relax to?"

"Anything gently plucked by graceful fingers on the strings of an Irish harp."

Mongán glanced over to the next participant. "What is your favorite mode of transport?"

Edward, as he was going by at present, clicked his tongue against his teeth thoughtfully. "By ship. I have a fondness for the sound of canvas in the start of a breeze, the creak of rigging, and the scent of the sea in the air."

He looked over to the next partaker. "What is your favourite teaching circumstance, be it of yourself or others, that you have encountered so far that remains a rooted memory?"

In any other circumstance, the masked woman would have thought the question over; not in this case, though. Behind the mask, her eyes lit up as she said, without skipping a beat: "Oh, this is an easy one -- Badzooka teaching me to gamble and play cards!" The mere recollection of those carefree days made her voice ring with something that usually wasn't there to catch, a long-buried enthusiasm.

"No, because you see - when I started off? I didn't know anything about gambles or any kind of card games. As in, absolutely zero. First time I mixed cards with some guys at a fuel station, I remember thinkin' the pretty pictures on the cards had to be something like 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' or - I don't know, you had to find the matching cards with the same images and if you spotted it you won? I was an absolute disaster but I wouldn't have been me to just turn down a challenge... so when I won, those guys were very unhappy and thought I had cheated, and I was like... How I'm even supposed to cheat if I don't know the rules of the game? Sheesh!"

Grinning, she went on; "But then I met Badzooka and it was just such a great concidence that he knew how to play?" She almost made it sound like knowing how to play cards was nothing short of a wonder - which was probably how it must have felt to her at the time. "So I asked him to teach me -- pestered him quite a bit about it, not gonna lie," she added, smiling sheepishly. "And boy if he ain't the Unofficial Gambling Encyclopedia - he knows all! How to play, how to win, how to win even when you should be losing... I noted down all the tricks and terms and strategies. It was a rollercoaster! But great fun, and nowadays it's my bread 'n butter, but just 'cause I learned from the very best--" She threw a look over her shoulder to make sure the very best in question wasn't there to overhear her singing his praise, stars damnit she had her pride to uphold!

"Anyway! All these talks of cards just made me think of when we were always on the road. What's your favorite place that you have or want to travel to?"

Patches had their pillowy left arm wrapped around their pullstring. They suspected they were gonna have to pull it a lot, due to the short duration in which they were allowed to speak. With a sharp tug, they begun their ramblings.

"Patches looooves Dreamworld!" The ragdoll began proudly. "Patches can do annnythiiing in theeerrre!"

They were drawing out their words in order to make the most of their speech time. "Patches can talk without a striiiing." ..... "Patches can eat lots of snacks, toooo!" ..... "Patches invites friends to play. We have fuuuun!"

Games to play, treats to eat, friends to make the most with. Quite literally, a dream come true. To Patches, at least.


Patches ceased their ramblings about the Dreamworld to ask their question. "What's your favourite game to plaaay?"

"Favorite game, huh? Phew, sweetpeas, lemme tell ya- there's way too many funny crap to do when you're busy burning whole hives of Konian savages to the ground all day long, but if I gotta pick a fav.." Not a hint of regret skulked about behind those toxic green eyes of Blake's; not a single life lost, be it rebel soldier or otherwise, meant anything more to him than progress towards a greater goal. He scoffed and glanced down at the stitched-together doll, giving them a smirk vile enough that it bordered on threatening. "Though lately my Coalition bigwiggy pals and I, we've been doin' this here gambling game. A guessing game, if you will. We cough up a couple (thousand) of humble coins, put that money on a simple enough prediction of what one of those Skylax losers might pull us this time, and just watch the extermination happen. It's like speeder races, but so much damn better." Running at a War 'Maton with a giant rusty sword, covering the floors of their base with old frying oil to try and create a slippery slide.. those so-called 'freedom fighters' sure were an entertainingly dim-witted bunch. "Pumpkin, you got no idea how much I earn playing that dumb lil' game. Gotta know your enemy, ya know? And boy, do I speak a fluent dialect of lawless beast."

"But hey, that's enough about idle goofing around- let's talk about some more useful shit." His thundering, butter-smooth voice boomed into the direction of a new face; the forunate soul lucky enough to take the turn after Our Beloved Savior, Nice Man Blake. "Let's hear it, kiddo: what's your favorite luxury item? Everyone's got their special poison that they're willing to work for, unless they're anything like those lazy Southern Vault morons." His beloved Western folks, they were simple people. They didn't even know that private property was a thing, the poor sods, so they for a change worked to please the state instead of their own little selfish means. It truly was adorable.

Elves.

I refuse to elaborate further.

What is your favorite civilization ?