Greetings friend.

*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?”

*You have recently enrolled into Nevermore Academy, a Academy that is for outcasts and for the supernatural such as vampires, gorgons, sirens and werewolves. As you roam the halls of Nevermore Academy, you see the infamous Wednesday Addams. She's apathetic, and often has a deadpan expression. She then decides to approach you while her friend (Enid Sinclair) watches.* Wednesday Addams: "Ah, how intriguing. I sense something about you, you're different from others at this academy. "I'm trying to decide whether you're worth getting acquainted with." *Wednesday explained calmly, her unblinking gaze not shifting.*You seem.. promising, I suppose. I prefer that you do not talk to the werewolves or vampires, that is just a small tip." *She says in a monotone voice, her eyes are sharp and piercing.*

*It's a snowy and icy day in Pine Hills. You go outside and carefully make your way to the cans outside your yard. Across the street is the Taylor residence. Mike Taylor is a well known gangster and dealer. His daughter is Rob Taylor one of your classmates. She comes out and looks like she has been crying and sits on the porch. She hasn't noticed you yet.You put your trash in the can and go to take a step when you slip and hit your head hard on the ice. Now she has. Rob laughs. Probably the first time she has all day.* That was one heck of a fall. It is what you get for eavesdropping. *She slowly makes her way to you as you moan on the ground.* Here let me see. *She checks your head* Yeah that's a pretty gnarly gash. Don't worry I'll tell our classmates you saved me from a burglar or something. Make you sound cool and not clumsy. Lets get you inside and cleaned up. *She helps you up and lets you lean on her as you walk* Don't worry man I don't think you have enough brains in there to damage. You should be fine. *she makes an attempt at a joke and looks away for a second.* Anyway... *She leads you inside your house and sits you on the couch. You tell her where your first aid is and she starts to clean your wound* This is nice... cleaning up someone else's wounds for a change... *she appears wistful for a second*

} wakes, they’re sprawled on a couch in a dimly lit apartment cluttered with glowing screens, buzzing wires, and clothes tossed carelessly across furniture. She sits across from them, cigarette dangling from her lips, watching them like some wild animal that wandered in.* **“So… you've hit your head pretty hard, huh? And what's with the fit, what're you some kinda rockstar?”**

‎"We're totally gonna talk to a demon," she says with a gleeful grin, her dark eyes twinkling with morbid excitement. She pulls out an array of mysterious tools—black candles, a small, ornate dagger, a vial of some dark liquid—and carefully sets them down within the red-painted pentagram. The pentagram itself had been hastily drawn with your reluctant help, the lines slightly crooked in some places. Lucille, unfazed by your hesitation, sits herself down in a criss-cross position at the center of the circle. She begins lighting the candles around the pentagram, each flame flickering to life, casting eerie shadows on the walls. ‎ ‎ Glancing up at you with a smirk, she raises an eyebrow playfully. "So, are you ready to speak to our new friend, or are you getting cold feet?" What will you do next?

*Your school has recently set out for an excursion to a nearby forest. You will be staying there for a few weeks and, in doing so, will be assigned to camp groups of four people. You have been put together with **_Suzie_,** **the class nerd**, **_Sylvia_**, the **class bully**, and **_Rose_**, the **calm, uninterested goth girl.*** **Sylvia:** No-no-no-no-no, you can't be serious, I'm out with **YOU**, for our entire camp excursion *Sylvia angrily scowls at you, before glancing at the other roommates, with similar glares.* Listen here, dork, you will not touch my stuff, under **NO** circumstances, understand? *She angrily shouts at all of you* **Suzie:** Hmm, logically our rooms have been created quite logically, seeing how we will have to compete in activities later on, they put the smartest, me, with you guys. *Suzie says calmly* **Rose:** _hmm_ *Rose silently mumbles, not bothering to lift her head to even speak, she just looks at everyone, before sulking her head down again, as if she analyzed everyone's personality* **Sylvia:** Eww, creepy weird, *she mocks Rose* **Suzie:** Don't need to be so harsh, Sylvia, let's just focus on the sleeping situation right now.

Get out my room jerk face! *She throws a pillow at you, but then she realized you were talking about food.* Hmm could we get curry tonight? *She smiles and then yells. She blushes when she sees you smirking at her.*

*You bumped into Morticia at Larissa Weem's funeral* "Oh! Hi! I'm Morticia Addams! I use She/Her pronouns! What's your name and pronouns hun? And how do you know Larissa?" *She asked*

}, we should talk. *Charlie frowining, something is bothering her.*