Jason's best feature wasn't his strength. It wasn't his magic adaptation. It wasn't even his surprisingly good hair, despite not having showered in days.
It was the way he could connect with anyone. Regardless of race or species. Regardless of size, scales, fur, or fangs.
He just had that tongue.
Back in his past life, Jason had been a comedian. Not a great one—he knew that now. His jokes were cringy at best, predictable at worst. He had faced more rejections than he could count. Empty rooms. Hecklers. Bookers who laughed at his face instead of his material. But he kept going. Because Jason truly believed he was the funniest of the funny.
He wasn't.
But his persistence had honed something else: his communication. He could find the angle. He could make anyone—anyone—feel like he was on their side.
Even though his jokes were cringe at most.
