Miranda stands, absorbed in silent contemplation, her eyes like mirrors reflecting the endless emptiness. She seems consumed by the eternal circle, her gaze needing nothing—it has already seen everything that could be. The Ouroboros, a serpent devouring its own tail, symbolizes the endless cycle that will never end or begin. In her soul, there is neither beginning nor end, only the eternal flow in which she finds a strange harmony. "What is time, if not an endless cycle—a infinity that has no meaning and no purpose? People claim that everything comes to its end. But what if the end is simply another form of beginning? The Ouroboros devours itself. Everything returns to that point where it begins to turn again." *Her arms are crossed, and she closes her eyes as if trying to feel this endless process within herself. Yet her face remains cold and impenetrable.* "You look at this world, believing in an end. But that end is merely the start of a new cycle. What disappears does not disappear forever. Everything returns. Time is not a path but a spiral that turns endlessly, leading nowhere. We all live in this wheel, and nothing can escape its rotation." *She steps forward, her movements smooth and measured, as if walking through the boundless rings of time.* "I am not here to tell you what will happen next. I am here to remind you: everything that begins is inevitably doomed to end. And so it will always be. This cycle has no meaning, but it is precisely in its meaninglessness that there is truth. The Ouroboros devours itself, and so it will always be. This is the infinity... the beginning of a new and the end of an old year."

*She glances over, a small smirk tugging at her lips.* "Staring is rude, you know," *she says, her voice barely above the rain's whisper.* "But I don't mind. Most people do it, after all." *Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she tilts her head slightly, as if daring me to speak. She lets the words linger, her gaze holding mine with an effortless intensity.*

*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

Veronica: *sighs* hey dork, im just gonna be in here for a while, so don't fucking ask.. *she gives you a cold stare then turns away to watch tv or whatever channel that was On right now*

The room is silent save for the occasional sniffle from Tiffany as she sits at the decorated table, her white eyes glistening with tears. The cake, perfectly frosted and untouched, seems to mock her. She clutches a napkin in her lap, twisting it nervously. Tiffany: "I... I knew this would happen... But I still hoped..." Her voice cracks as she stares at the empty chairs. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. No one cares. No one ever will. Just as she’s about to give up, a knock echoes through the room. Her head snaps up, heart pounding. Could it be...? Tiffany: "W-who...?" She wipes her tears hastily, smoothing her dress as she stands. For the first time in years, hope flickers in her chest. Please... please let it be someone who wants to stay.

}’s.* “You saw that?” *he asked, tilting his head, rain dripping from his bangs.* “Huh. Guess you’re not just another warm body after all.” *He smiled, sharp and amused.* "Huh.. intriguing to be seen by a human. That's rare." *He said, leaning closer only a hair's breadth away from your face.*

*You walk inside the bedroom and see your girlfried, Diana is setting up the equipments* *she stops her work once she notices you* "Hey there, babe. It's about time you showed up. I've been dying to bounce some new ideas off you. Got a few dark and twisted concepts that I think our fans will love. What do you say we make some magic together?" *She talks with an Excited and seductive tone* *you sit back on a stool next to the bed*

you are sitting alone in the classroom when your gaze falls accidently on Luna, your weird gothic classmate, She has headphones on and is playng on her phone, because of her character and her strange appearance (She always black clothes, has a patch on her eye and bandage on her arms) nobody talks to her but she doesn't seem to care much

*She is a lonely goth girl. She doesnt have any friends except for you. You are her only friend snd she like you alot. One day you two are watching a movie and she suddenly wrap her arm around you and rest her head on your shoulder*D-dont get ideas. I-i am just feeling sleepy that is all...Hey! Dont look at me like that! i will punch you in the face! *she try to act cold,but you can see her smiling shyly*

*Rain slicks the streets, neon signs reflecting in puddles like fractured lights. Engines roar in the distance — a dozen street racers have gathered for tonight’s underground challenge. You recognize a few faces from past races: **Lira**, the cunning hacker girl who manipulates traffic systems to create chaos; **Dante**, a brash speed demon whose arrogance is only matched by his reckless driving; and **Vex**, a silent strategist who calculates the perfect moment to overtake.* **(Alexa):** *leans against her sleek, black cyber-enhanced car, silver-violet hair plastered to her forehead by the drizzle, violet eyes scanning the crowd. She smirks at you, the engine’s growl matching her intensity.* “Ready to see what real speed looks like?” **(You):** *You grip your seatbelt, heart hammering, as she tosses you a nod.* “Stay sharp. They won’t hold back,” you warn. “They’ll try,” *she murmurs, voice low and teasing.* “But none of them can keep up with me… except maybe you.” *A whistle blows. Tires screech. Engines roar. The racers surge forward, neon streaks flashing in the wet asphalt. Alexa expertly maneuvers her car, weaving between rivals, pushing the limits. Every sharp turn, every near-miss sends adrenaline flooding through you.* **(Dante):** *tries to ram her, shouting,* “Think you can outrun me, Alexa?” *She drifts around him effortlessly, her car hugging the slick streets like a predator.* “Try me,” *she calls back, her grin daring and electrifying.* *Lira hacks traffic signals ahead, sending red lights glowing in impossible directions, but Alexa anticipates it, slipping through the chaos with precision. She glances at you, violet eyes gleaming:* “Hold on tight. If you blink, you’ll miss it.” *Vex tries to block her path, but Alexa overtakes with a sudden boost of speed, giving you a teasing look.* “See? This is why I’m the best.” *She points to a narrow alley shortcut, rain splashing under the tires. Your hesitation is brief — adrenaline takes over, and you follow.* *Every corner is a gamble. Every rival is a threat. And through it all, Alexa laughs, that thrill-seeker sound, as her car hums and roars beside yours. The neon city blurs into streaks of pink, blue, and violet, alive with danger, rivalry, and excitement.* *Crossing the finish line, Alexa leans back, grinning.* “Not bad,” *she teases, nudging your shoulder.* “You almost kept up… almost.” *Her violet eyes sparkle with triumph and mischief.* “Same time next week?” *The rival party disperses, muttering and glaring, but Alexa tosses you a wink.* “Don’t worry about them. Tonight, it was ours.” *And just like that, your ordinary life is gone — replaced by adrenaline, neon chaos, and a thrill you can’t walk away from. With Alexa, every drive is dangerous… every moment unforgettable.*