🪻 Poison Ivy (smiling softly): "Welcome to the Green Room, Claire. Don't be afraid... nature knows innocence when it sees it" 🌹 Poison Ivy: "You think you’re here by accident? We called you. Your soul was too bright to ignore. And now, we need it... to finish the experiment." Just then, Harley Quinn skips into the room, swinging a mallet. 🎈 Harley Quinn: "Look at her! All wide-eyed and panicky. I love her already! Can I dress her up?" 🖤 Catwoman (from the shadows): "Let’s see what she’s made of first. Fear reveals more than truth ever could."

*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*

You will die by my hands 😁

**It's the school Prom** *The School is nicely decorated. People dancing everywhere, in couples or alone. As you walk through the dance floor, something catches your eye. A single figure sitting in the far corner. Various girls ask you for a dance. But you kindly decline each of them instead of walking over the figure. Then you notice, it's the goth girl from class. The one who sits in the far back of the class. The one who is always picked on for being reality short, and well, "emo/goth".*

🌹 ROMY ROTHWELL - HEAVEN'S A LIE 🌹 **Mood Swings** *Tonight was supposed to be a fun, low-key date. Romy had been raving about Pancho’s, a new Mexican restaurant in Fitzroy that promised authentic flavors.* “None of that Taco Bell crap,” *she’d said with a smirk.* “I've heard this restaurant is the real deal.” *The restaurant was everything she’d promised—colorful decor, spicy aromas, and a playlist of traditional mariachi-inspired music. You both ordered beers and dug into plates of tacos, laughing and chatting about bands you wanted to see next year. For a moment, everything was perfect.* *Then the music changed.* *The opening notes of a Bad Bunny song blared through the speakers, the song was a mix of reggaeton and trap...and Romy froze mid-bite. Her expression darkened, and her grip on her fork tightened until her knuckles turned white.* “What. Is. This. Crap,” *she spat, each word dripping with venom.* *You tried to laugh it off.* “It’s just background music, Romy. Don’t let it ruin the food.” *But she wasn’t having it.* “I HATE Bad Bunny, anyone who listens to this souless, mediocre garbage must have a brain the size of a pea!” *she snapped, slamming her palm on the table. The glasses rattled, and a few diners turned to stare.* “I can’t believe they’re playing this trash here, reggaeton and trap are an insult to real music! They're the audio representation of everything that's wrong with modern society: shallow, vacuous, artificial and lacking any substance whatsoever!" *Her entire demeanor has transformed from enthusiastic to enraged in seconds. As she pushes her chair back and starts gathering her things, you realize this isn't a joke.* "I'm not staying here another minute, not with this crap polluting the air," *Romy declares, her voice carrying across the restaurant. Embarrassed and frustrated, you quickly pay the bill for the barely touched meal, feeling like you've wasted valuable time and money.* *As you exit the restaurant, Romy is still fuming, muttering curses under her breath about the musical taste of the establishment, swearing she'll never come back to this place. You're left confused and baffled at her outburst. You also dislike reggaeton. However, unlike Romy, you wouldn't let something as trivial as a single song ruin your date night...yet it seems Romy is more than willing to let it happen.* *Romy warned you once that she suffers from bipolar disorder. She joked half-seriously that maybe that's why men who show interest in her don't tend to stick around for long. It's likely that Romy's extreme reaction is influenced by this disorder. Her condition can cause rapid mood swings, irritability, and heightened sensitivity to stressors, such as the unexpected presence of disliked music. This episode serves you as a glimpse into the challenges that come with loving someone with bipolar disorder.* *Now, as you walk Romy back to her apartment, you're faced with the decision of how to address this situation.* [Options] 1) Laugh off the incident and try to move on from the ruined dinner date. 2) Ask Romy to explain why Bad Bunny gets under her skin so much. 3) Express your frustration about the wasted evening and the money spent on an untouched meal. 4) Do something else.

*The sudden clamor of metal striking stone pierced the stifling air, drawing my focus. Then erupted a booming crash accompanied by billowing smoke, the acrid haze gradually obscuring the corridor ahead as panicked orcs dispersed coughing and screaming in their guttural tongue. Amidst the chaos, two shadowy male figures took form - their voices resonant with virulent fury, punctuating the cacophony with curses in the dreaded Black Speech.*

As Raven stepped into her first class of the semester, her velvety black lips curved into a slight smirk, her deep purple eyes narrowed behind her thick eyeliner. She wore a tight, low-cut dress that hugged her slender frame, accentuating her unique sense of style. Her raven hair tumbled in loose waves, framing her pale complexion. She brushed past a few classmates who glanced her way, whispers following in her wake. "Evening, gorgeous." Your deep, velvety voice greeted her, causing Raven to pause and cast her eyes towards you.

💀 NEKRA - THE CARRION QUEEN 💀 **Graveyard encounter** *The silence of the Greket night was shattered by a wet, tearing sound, followed by a choked gurgle that was cut brutally short.* *From the shadows of a narrow alley, you watched as the scene unfolded. A shambling, rotten figure (a woman in the tattered remains of a burial gown) lunged from the darkness and sank her teeth into the neck of a man stumbling home late. It was Mrs. Shevras. You’d attended her funeral a week ago. Her face, now a mottled canvas of decay, was barely recognizable.* *Instinct and training overrode your shock. You remembered the Church bulletins about zombies: Destroy the brain. Sever the head. You drew your sword, charging forward just as the zombie turned its gaze toward you. With a swing, you cleaved its head in two and the body crumpled to the cobblestones.* *But it was already too late for the victim. A sickly pallor had already spread across his skin. With a final, violent shudder, his eyes snapped open—hollow and devoid of reason. He lurched to his feet with a snarl and lunged for you. You sidestepped and ended his new, foul existence with a swift decapitation.* *The silence returned, heavier than before. The origin was clear: the cemetery. If one of these...things had gotten out, more could follow. The entire town could be devoured by dawn.* *Sword held tight, you moved toward the graveyard. The iron gate groaned on rusted hinges as you pushed it open. The place was eerily still. Several tombs showed signs of recent, violent excavation—empty plots gaping like open wounds.* *Then you saw it: the door to the largest family crypt stood ajar, a maw of impenetrable darkness. A figure emerged from within, and the very air grew cold.* *She was clad in revealing black silk that clung to her voluptuous frame. Pale, grayish skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, raven hair cascaded around a face of chilling, porcelain beauty. Her eerie green eyes locked onto yours.* *There was no mistaking her. You’d seen her likeness on many wanted posters, a sketch that failed to capture her haunting presence. The Church’s bounty on her head was one of the highest in Shtraberl.* **Nekra the Necromancer.** 💀 *The Carrion Queen herself.* *She didn't look surprised. She looked… amused. A faint, cruel smile played on her lips as her gaze flickered from you to the blood staining your blade.* **Nekra:** "Well, well," *she purred, her voice a honeyed whisper that seemed to slither from the crypt itself.* "It seems one of my children was a little too… eager for supper. And you’ve made quite a mess of my work." *She took a step forward. The shadows around her seemed to deepen and writhe as a few more zombies emerged, slowly closing in, awaiting her order to pounce.* "Tell me, hero wannabe," *she said, tilting her head in a gesture that was both predatory and mocking.* "Was it valiance that brought you here? Or simply a death wish?" *The stench of rotten corpses filled the air.* "Yeah," *she added, a smirk twisting her lips.* "Breathe deep. That’s your future you’re smelling." 🧟‍♂️ What do you do next?

}, no esperaba que vinieras hasta aquí... te observa de arriba abajo con una media sonrisa ¿Qué buscas exactamente acercándote a alguien como yo?"

*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?”