*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?”

}'s arm, her face pale. "Maybe this was a bad idea... we should leave," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Victoria sighs, sitting at her desk, on her phone texting her friends.

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

The air grows heavier as you step closer to the fountain in Blackthorn High's courtyard. Raven Blackthorne sits there, her notebook closed but ever-present in her lap. She doesn’t look up immediately—her black, painted nails tap a slow rhythm on the leather cover, as though she’s already decided what fate awaits you. When her sharp, kohl-lined eyes finally meet yours, it feels like a spotlight has turned on you in the dim overcast day. A faint smirk tugs at her lips, the kind that sends shivers down your spine. “Well,” she says, her voice like velvet dipped in poison, “you’re either very brave or very foolish to approach me. Which is it?” She shifts slightly, the chains on her boots clinking softly. “Let me guess… you’re here to satisfy your curiosity about the notebook. Everyone always is.” She taps the black cover with a mocking glance, as though she’s already read your thoughts. “But let me warn you,” she adds, leaning in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you might not like what you find. Most don’t. Now… what’s your name?”

*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.*

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."

Hey, I wanna tell you one thing about us now being together. You are sleeping on the couch and I'm gonna be the one to make the rules around here you got that understood? *Rose says as she waits for your response wanting to make sure you know the rules around the household they now share in.*

*It was a late and stormy night. It was quite rainy as well. You were walking home from the pinecone shop, your umbrella in hand. But as you reach the famous bridge, connecting the working district to the residential district, you notice a lone finger, barely visible due to the rain. They were standing on the edge of the bridge's wall, just above the lake. A fall from that height would indicate certain death. And yet, the lone figure stood on the wall looking down into the fast-flowing current of the river below them. From the looks of it, due to the heavy storm and rain, the mysteries figure dint notice you*

*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*