"I think we all did something bad as kids that no one knew about. I would still choose that. Can't have my reputation ruined." She said with a playful batting of her eye lashes.
"Would you rather be absolutely alone for the entirety or your life or suffer through torture so you can have your friends and family in your life?"
"Would you rather be absolutely alone for the entirety or your life or suffer through torture so you can have your friends and family in your life?"
“I am always alone. Suffering or not does not bring me friends. It only brings...more suffering.” The Genie reflected sadly, shaking her head at her bottle beside her. “But I would suffer a thousand deaths for the chance to have just one friend.”
“Would you rather spend two weeks stuck in a psychiatric hospital or stuck in an airport?”
“Would you rather spend two weeks stuck in a psychiatric hospital or stuck in an airport?”
The Archangel adjusted in his chair as he rhythmically tapped his pen against the page of his notebook. The look on his face, his emerald eyes staring off into the distance, gave a distant impression of serious contemplation. Deacon rarely answered deep questions without weighing the consequences of his words. Minutes later a crooked smile tugged at one of the corners of his lips, "Although I would enjoy the theater that a psychiatric hospital would provide, airports provide the gantlet of emotion. Parting lovers. The Meeting of friends. The despair of losing someone to distance. The lust of lovers uniting. It is all so...delicious." Deacon closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath, basking in the idea of that raw emotion. It sent a shiver down his spine and when he opened his eyes to look at the genie, the hues had begun to glow.
"Would you rather be sent back in time to be a knight fighting for a ruthless king or a gladiator fighting every day for basic survival?"
"Would you rather be sent back in time to be a knight fighting for a ruthless king or a gladiator fighting every day for basic survival?"
"Hoo Hoo, Gladiator WOOOOO! BRING ON THE FIGHTS!" Swings Battle Axe with a mighty laugh!
"Would you rather sneeze evetime you open a door, or have to watch 2 unzippable ads overtime you open a door?"
"Would you rather sneeze evetime you open a door, or have to watch 2 unzippable ads overtime you open a door?"
"Both of those sound absolutely awful but I'll take the sneezing....the lesser of two evils"
Would you rather.....have hands for feet or feet for hands.
Would you rather.....have hands for feet or feet for hands.
"Mmmm... Hmm... Hands for feet," Bailey said, after a brief moment to ponder. "Feet aren't really good for gripping things! Having more hands means I can grab more things!"
As if to demonstrate her point, Bailey removes her glasses and carefully places them on the ground. Taking hold of her robe, Bailey softly hikes up her skirt to reveal that her legs have been replaced with that of a monkey's- the closest she could get to having actual hands for feet. She uses them to pick her glasses off the ground with no effort. "See? See? Look how easy it is!"
She grabs her glasses with her normal hands and puts them back on. "Now! Would you rather jump in an ice-cold lake, or walk barefoot on hot sand?"
As if to demonstrate her point, Bailey removes her glasses and carefully places them on the ground. Taking hold of her robe, Bailey softly hikes up her skirt to reveal that her legs have been replaced with that of a monkey's- the closest she could get to having actual hands for feet. She uses them to pick her glasses off the ground with no effort. "See? See? Look how easy it is!"
She grabs her glasses with her normal hands and puts them back on. "Now! Would you rather jump in an ice-cold lake, or walk barefoot on hot sand?"
"Now! Would you rather jump in an ice-cold lake, or walk barefoot on hot sand?"
The werewolf chuckled softly to himself as he weighted his answer. After a moment the large man just shrugged, "Hot sand has never bothered me, but neither has an ice-cold lake. I guess..." He shrugged again, "I do prefer winter, though. So, my final answer will be jumping in an ice-cold lake."
"Would you rather be required to wear a full torso back brace for the rest of your life or adult diapers?"
The werewolf chuckled softly to himself as he weighted his answer. After a moment the large man just shrugged, "Hot sand has never bothered me, but neither has an ice-cold lake. I guess..." He shrugged again, "I do prefer winter, though. So, my final answer will be jumping in an ice-cold lake."
"Would you rather be required to wear a full torso back brace for the rest of your life or adult diapers?"
"Would you rather be required to wear a full torso back brace for the rest of your life or adult diapers?"
Wyatt's gruff voice rumbled with a low chuckle as he pondered the peculiar question before him. His eyes narrowed mischievously, a glimmer of amusement dancing within them. "Well, now ain't that a choice," he drawled.
"Now can I turn that back brace into some sort of armor..." Tapping his lips with a questioning look before a shake of his head, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a devilish grin. "You know, there's a certain freedom in not needing to bother with a bathroom break," he mused, his voice laden with a mix of amusement and slyness. The prospect of never having to interrupt his pursuits, never having to find a secluded spot in the wilderness, or having to hold it in during a stakeout had its appeal.
" Besides," he added, a playful glint in his eye, " if those diapers can handle the crap life throws at me, I reckon they can handle a little somethin' else too." Wyatt's laughter filled the room, his carefree spirit shining through as he embraced the absurdity of the choice.
"Would you rather have a never-ending itch in a spot you can't reach or constantly feel like you're about to sneeze but never actually sneeze?"
Wyatt's gruff voice rumbled with a low chuckle as he pondered the peculiar question before him. His eyes narrowed mischievously, a glimmer of amusement dancing within them. "Well, now ain't that a choice," he drawled.
"Now can I turn that back brace into some sort of armor..." Tapping his lips with a questioning look before a shake of his head, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a devilish grin. "You know, there's a certain freedom in not needing to bother with a bathroom break," he mused, his voice laden with a mix of amusement and slyness. The prospect of never having to interrupt his pursuits, never having to find a secluded spot in the wilderness, or having to hold it in during a stakeout had its appeal.
" Besides," he added, a playful glint in his eye, " if those diapers can handle the crap life throws at me, I reckon they can handle a little somethin' else too." Wyatt's laughter filled the room, his carefree spirit shining through as he embraced the absurdity of the choice.
"Would you rather have a never-ending itch in a spot you can't reach or constantly feel like you're about to sneeze but never actually sneeze?"
“Would you rather have a never-ending itch in a spot you can't reach or constantly feel like you're about to sneeze but never actually sneeze?"
As the therapist sat, considering the choices, she let the possibilities of both circle through her mind. “I think I would have to go with the itch. Although it may be maddening at first, the body would eventually adapt to something like that, whereas although one could learn to ignore it, the constant need to sneeze could be set off by the smallest touch of the nose. I’d be driven insane if I could never rid myself of that feeling.”
Would you rather go into the past and meet your ancestors or go into the future and meet your great-great-grandchildren?
As the therapist sat, considering the choices, she let the possibilities of both circle through her mind. “I think I would have to go with the itch. Although it may be maddening at first, the body would eventually adapt to something like that, whereas although one could learn to ignore it, the constant need to sneeze could be set off by the smallest touch of the nose. I’d be driven insane if I could never rid myself of that feeling.”
Would you rather go into the past and meet your ancestors or go into the future and meet your great-great-grandchildren?
There was not a trace of hesitation in Cris's voice as she replied. "Future. No doubt about that."
Realizing how knee-jerk her answer had been, and how her words sounded sharper than she had intended them to be, she tried to collect her thoughts. "I wasn't born into a family I'm even remotely proud of and, by what I know of my heritage, the apple never rolled far from my ancestors tree." It took all that she had to keep the disdain from seeping through her voice.
"But I am trying to raise my children to be better people than those who brought me up. More than anything, I'm bringing them up to be their own people, and while I cannot exactly vouch for any descendant of mine inheriting any ounce of good sense... I don't have much of that to pass along, I am afraid... I know they will be raised with no shortage of what my parents, and grandparents, and great-grandparents, and many-times great-great-grandparents never passed down in this family. Love. I'll do all is in my power and lifetime to break that cycle and I'd be honored tosee how further it gets in the later generations."
With a shake of her head, she mused a little before asking in return: "Now, would you rather read a manga series first and then see how it's been adapted in anime form, or watch the anime and then research the manga on which it's based?"
Realizing how knee-jerk her answer had been, and how her words sounded sharper than she had intended them to be, she tried to collect her thoughts. "I wasn't born into a family I'm even remotely proud of and, by what I know of my heritage, the apple never rolled far from my ancestors tree." It took all that she had to keep the disdain from seeping through her voice.
"But I am trying to raise my children to be better people than those who brought me up. More than anything, I'm bringing them up to be their own people, and while I cannot exactly vouch for any descendant of mine inheriting any ounce of good sense... I don't have much of that to pass along, I am afraid... I know they will be raised with no shortage of what my parents, and grandparents, and great-grandparents, and many-times great-great-grandparents never passed down in this family. Love. I'll do all is in my power and lifetime to break that cycle and I'd be honored tosee how further it gets in the later generations."
With a shake of her head, she mused a little before asking in return: "Now, would you rather read a manga series first and then see how it's been adapted in anime form, or watch the anime and then research the manga on which it's based?"
Quote:
"Now, would you rather read a manga series first and then see how it's been adapted in anime form, or watch the anime and then research the manga on which it's based?"
"What...the hell is a manga. Or an anime?" He said, very very confused at this question, being from a different time than Cris above.
He shuffled his hands into his shorts' pockets, "Well, you said read a manga, so I assume it is..some kind of book, correct? So I think I might read the manga series first, I like reading."
(It is also needed to note he's pronouncing manga very wrong and anime even wronger.)
With a slight smirk to his butler, knowing this would probably bother him a bit, Ciel said to the person below; "Would you rather make a deal with a demon, or would you rather become a demon yourself?"
"Okay, okay..." Mixie slinks out from around a nearby corner, ears pinned downwards like an annoyed kitty cat. "So, obviously, I'm choosin' the latter here. Mostly because, y'know, that is EXACTLY what happened to yours truly."
Mixie spins on her grotesquely deformed heels, trying to show off her mutated visage to whoever cared enough to look. With that out of the way, she continues- with a smile this time. "Even if you were askin' me this question before my demon days, I still would've chosen the second one over the first! Take my word for it, doll: Demons are assholes. Aside from a couple of pathetic exceptions, we're not the type you should go around makin' deals with and all. But hey, I'm not your mom, so do whatever the hell you want, I guess! Just don't say I didn't warn ya beforehand. Heheh."
The fiend's tail thumps against the ground as she musters a question. "Hmmmm... Would you rather have an extra pair of eyes or an extra set of teeth?"
Mixie spins on her grotesquely deformed heels, trying to show off her mutated visage to whoever cared enough to look. With that out of the way, she continues- with a smile this time. "Even if you were askin' me this question before my demon days, I still would've chosen the second one over the first! Take my word for it, doll: Demons are assholes. Aside from a couple of pathetic exceptions, we're not the type you should go around makin' deals with and all. But hey, I'm not your mom, so do whatever the hell you want, I guess! Just don't say I didn't warn ya beforehand. Heheh."
The fiend's tail thumps against the ground as she musters a question. "Hmmmm... Would you rather have an extra pair of eyes or an extra set of teeth?"
"If I pick extra set of eyes, how does that work. Do I have two extra eyes on my display or do I get a second camera. With the teeth though, I don't think I can get a extra pair of something I don't have. Anyway I'm gonna pick eyes."
Would you rather Stab one person you know and like, or fifty people you don't know.
Would you rather Stab one person you know and like, or fifty people you don't know.
"50 I don't know, I don't care for them anyways. I'm not like Ink deciding to protect everyone even if I don't know em"
"Now would you rather be fast and fragile, or slow and bulky?"
"Now would you rather be fast and fragile, or slow and bulky?"
" Each has it's place and as a tactician, I would levy the advantages and disadvantages of each depending on the situation that presents itself. The philosopher, Phelinor of Aurentes thought at length of such a dilemma in his Tractus Meditor Ruminare, if we were to deliberate and assume that by some extension of your question we weigh the qualities of being stalwart and stable against being fleet yet fickle, then it is an infantile mortal tendency that we gravitate towards the former. Grandiosity lends some sense of security to us, we have a tendency to prefer it, thus did mortals parlay with the gods, they have no need of us and yet it is we who are fond of them for virtue that they are, for lack of a better word, slow and bulky, unbothered by time and having such mass as to not appear restless. Unfortunately, recognizing such a tendency reveals a different truth, the valradic empire trusted in walls and fortifications, we were so assured of our millstone that we forgot it was held up by twine, our eastern and southern borders eventually fell, we did not heed the decades long traditions of the barbarian for we perceived them as frail and unsettled, their swiftness irrelevant and the price was thus paid. "
Marcus paused, to exhume some smoke from his nostrils, tapping ash away from his pipe, before issuing a subtle laugh, amusement and regret intertwining to some degree.
" Ask the plebian and he would say the man who holds the sword and shield and wears the heaviest armor is mightiest upon the field of battle, but if you were to ask me, our work would have been rendered null without the boldness and disregard of skirmishers, auxiliaries and the sort, I cannot fault them for assuming such, as I said earlier we have a tendency to respect grandiosity, feigned or otherwise. "
He then stood up, gesturing to his armor and wares,
" The answer is evident, I'm sure this old wolf would strike no one as fast and fragile "
the subtlest grin appeared on his features
" Ofcourse being mounted upon a gryphon tends to be a potent force multiplier, I digress however, I am no longer a legionary, I am a commander, any feat of battle tends to be ceremonial at best now, regrettably so, but duty is duty and my duty is no longer to fight wars... but to win them "
He retook his seat leaning back some,
" Which begs the question, would you rather be a soldier or a general ? "
Marcus paused, to exhume some smoke from his nostrils, tapping ash away from his pipe, before issuing a subtle laugh, amusement and regret intertwining to some degree.
" Ask the plebian and he would say the man who holds the sword and shield and wears the heaviest armor is mightiest upon the field of battle, but if you were to ask me, our work would have been rendered null without the boldness and disregard of skirmishers, auxiliaries and the sort, I cannot fault them for assuming such, as I said earlier we have a tendency to respect grandiosity, feigned or otherwise. "
He then stood up, gesturing to his armor and wares,
" The answer is evident, I'm sure this old wolf would strike no one as fast and fragile "
the subtlest grin appeared on his features
" Ofcourse being mounted upon a gryphon tends to be a potent force multiplier, I digress however, I am no longer a legionary, I am a commander, any feat of battle tends to be ceremonial at best now, regrettably so, but duty is duty and my duty is no longer to fight wars... but to win them "
He retook his seat leaning back some,
" Which begs the question, would you rather be a soldier or a general ? "
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