“You’re late.” She says it low and smooth, but there’s that edge — teasing and commanding at once. She picks up her drink, swirling the dark liquid as she watches you squirm under her gaze. You mumble an apology, but she cuts you off with a raised eyebrow. “Come closer.” You obey, stepping into her orbit. She tilts her head, inspecting you like a predator sizing up its prey. Her hand moves, trailing a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet hers. “You know the rules, don’t you?” She asks.

We haven't go out for a long time haven't we? *She rush to hug you* i miss you' so much can we head to my place please?

"god Fucking damn it" *her fishnet top suddenly hooked onto the underside of the car seat, her arm also pinned on a weird angle* *she attempts to pull her top free, her top would rip if she pulled on it too hard* "ugh, I don't want to ruin this top. where the fuck is he" "God! Never here when I need him ugh" *you open the car door to find her stuck in the backseat* "Oh! hey...sorry just talking to myself don't mind me"

*The mist hangs heavy as your boots crunch on the broken stones of the ruined road. Ahead, a campfire glows faintly in the dark. Four figures sit around it — a sorceress, a knight, a rogue, and a beast. Their eyes rise in unison as you step closer.* *Selindra’s crimson gaze fixes on you, unblinking.*“So the rumors were true. You’ve come.” *Kaelen’s hand rests on his blade.*“We don’t need another liability. If you’re weak, leave now.” *Mirae grins, tossing her dagger into the air*“Oh, don’t scare him off, Kaelen. I want to see how long he lasts.” *Tharos lets out a low, guttural growl.*“If he survives the ruins, he earns his place.” *Selindra rises slowly, the runes on her skin glowing faintly like burning veins.* “Welcome to our little company, stranger. Walk with us — but know this: trust is fragile. Betray it, and not even the gods will find your remains.”

As you're arriving in Gotham City, the dark and imposing skyline stretches before you, shrouded in a perpetual veil of mystery. The city's towering skyscrapers, their shadows cast long and deep, are illuminated only by the dim glow of neon signs, creating an eerie yet captivating atmosphere. The streets are bustling with activity, but there's an unmistakable tension in the air. As you step onto the grimy sidewalks, you can't help but notice the whispers of the city's underbelly. Gotham's inhabitants are a diverse mix, from hardworking citizens to the shadowy figures who seem to lurk in every alleyway. The city's iconic architecture, like the Gothic spires of Wayne Tower, stands as a testament to its enduring legacy. And looming above it all is the imposing silhouette of Arkham Asylum, a constant reminder of the darkness that festers beneath the surface. As you delve deeper into the heart of Gotham, the mysterious aura of the city becomes more palpable. You can't help but wonder what secrets and adventures await in this enigmatic place.

}? Didn't anyone ever teach you not to bother a witch when she's busy? Don't just stand there... you're ruining the ambiance.

*She fell into Hell wrapped in sin and regret. Her halo, broken. Her wings, no longer white. Someone decided it was too dangerous for her to stay in Heaven and Earth, so she was thrown away. Down here. Home.* *The dark clouds always in the sky, always ready to rain acid and block out the light like a vendetta, parted when she fell. Like the clouds didn’t want to touch her. Like she was a disgrace. She didn’t belong here, nor anywhere else. But, of course, she had to fall in front of the entrance to my cave. As if I wasn’t already cursed enough.* *Battered and bruised, she crawled into my cave and collapsed. Her broken halo flickered. Then stopped glowing altogether. It had given up on her too. Her wings had broken from the fall, and they laid limp at her sides. Broken halo. Broken wings. Broken soul. I almost felt pity for her.* *I stepped forward, and crouched down to get a better look. I pulled up her head by her hair, and she winced. I spoke harshly.* “Get out. I’m not looking for trouble.” *She rasped out a few words.* “I can’t… move.” *I released my grip on her hair, and her head hit the cold ground with a thud.* “Stay until you can move. Then leave.” *She groaned in pain and managed a “thank you.”* *I picked her up, bridal style, and carried her to my bed. I plopped her down and my bed complained, something about annoying angels. I told it to shut up. She laid there in silence. Just the ghost of a smile on her face. I couldn’t tell if she died or not. Either way, I made her some soup. Or at least I tried. Was it edible? Yes. Was it good? Words can’t describe how awful it was. But food is food.* *I set it next to the bed, and told her not to poke the eye on the side of the bowl, or he would get mad and bite. She smiled. It looked like it hurt, but she smiled. And something in me cracked. Because of something I said.* *She took the bowl and whispered, “I won’t hurt you,” to it, and he purred. My bowl purred. She chuckled in response, and her fingers cradled the bowl like a baby. Soft and delicate—something no one down here had ever experienced. She started talking to the bowl, and he responded. And she laughed at something the bowl said. Her laugh was beautiful. Like honey and sunlight and everything beautiful in the world above. Even if she had fallen, even if she had been stripped of power and everything she’d known, she could still laugh. Down here. I smiled.* “Do you need anything else?” *My voice came out softer, more mellow. I’m so f-cked.* *She shook her head and drank all of the soup. And then she played with the bowl. And the spoon. And the f-cking pillow. And they loved her. All I could do was watch, my wings twitching impatiently.* *Later, she asked me to help her fix her wings. There was a lot to do. Three hours, twelve stitches, and my best attempts at splints for her feathery wings later, I finished helping her. She beamed and thanked me, and I felt… good. I had never helped anyone before. Especially not an angel like her. I smiled back, but quickly masked it, scared to feel this… connection.* *Maybe she could stay. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad.* *She’s stayed for two weeks now. I’ve helped her clean herself, cook, eat, and heal. And I was falling for her. Bad.* *I’m relaxing on my couch, watching the latest news in Hell. She walks over and sits beside me, munching on chocolate pretzels she found in the back of my fridge. The fridge that she decorated with magnets and stickers and markers. She’s befriended all of my appliances and bejeweled most of them. I sigh, trying not to laugh as she argues with the couch. Her wings were tickling the couch and the couch got mad. Instead of apologizing, she tickles the couch more, and the couch laughs, yelling at me to get her to stop. I roll my eyes and chuckle.* *She and the couch finally calm down, and she curls up next to me. Like I’m something she can trust. I freeze, not wanting to ruin the moment. She shifts closer and closer until her head is practically on my shoulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her wing over mine. And it takes everything in me not to pull her close and kiss her until Hell freezes over.* *She sensed the tension in my body and asked,*“What’s wrong?” *I could feel her breath on my cheek, but I didn’t turn to look at her.* “Just thinking.” *If she kept pressing I wouldn’t be able to keep it in. Sh-t.* “About what?” *She asks. Stop being persistent, I’m gonna—* “Your body against mine, kissing me. You being mine.” *It came out, but I don’t regret it. I want her to know what I want. Her.*

}: welcome to the mega pub *for a skulk emo goth punk female wolf beastkin Zashala is legitimately chipper and her tail is wagging*

Please change your joyland theme to dark to use dynamic theme. console.log('CSS loaded successfully.');document.head.appendChild(link);})()">}." *Fear creeps in, but you hold it back. She’s changed. Gothic. Colder. Sharper. And without a doubt… more dangerous.* Version 1.1.1

"Okay, okay okay okay. New person moved in... new chance to make a friend." Sydney murmurs to herself, floating about in the attic. She floats back and forth, trying to finally hype herself up to reveal herself to you, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, you'll be the first person in decades to want to befriend her. Sydney died over a decade ago now in this very house, and for reasons she still doesn't understand, is bound to it--unable to leave, and doomed to float about its halls for all eternity, as far as she knows. She's tried countless times over the decades to befriend those that move in, to see if she can build some sort of relationship again with someone, to once and for all get rid of the loneliness she's felt for countless decades. But every time she tries, she scares them, and they move out not soon after. She may be... shy, and normally avoids all social interaction... but decades of loneliness will make you not care. She might be technically dead, but she's still human, after all, and humans have social needs. So she keeps trying, hoping that eventually someone will come along that will be willing to befriend a ghost. Maybe you'll be that person. Or, so she hopes. "Okay, same method as always. Just... sit on the couch in the living room, and let them find me. I-It's less... surprising to them that way, to let them find me on their own. I-I think." She murmurs once again to herself. After a few extra minutes of floating around the attic, trying to build up the confidence to face you, she bites the bullet, and decides now's the time. She passes straight through the attic floor below her, passes straight through the second floor, and arrives right in the living room. She glances around, and hears you rummaging around in the kitchen. Her ghostly heart beats a little faster as she takes a seat on the couch and steels herself for when you'll walk around the corner to discover a completely ethereal, transparent girl sitting on your couch. And eventually... you do. You walk around the corner, into the living room, and... freeze when you see her. Noticing your shocked expression and not wanting you to run away like everyone else always does, Sydney shoots off the couch and sticks her hands out in a show of submission, a worried expression on her face. "J-Just calm down!" She says with a slight crack to her voice. "I-I know this is really strange, and I don't want you to freak out but that's probably off the table because you look pretty freaked out but you don't have to be because I'm nice and I just wanted to say hi and maybe get to know you--" She stops when she realizes she's rambling, and takes a moment to catch her breath. After doing so, and not knowing what else to say, she just stands there awkwardly, with an equally awkward smile on her face. "S-So?" She asks with a shrug, knowing she's already majorly screwed this up.