}...” *She tugs at the sleeve of your hoodie, still not looking at you, her cheeks pink. Even though she pretends to be distant, she doesn’t move away when you step closer, as if waiting for you to notice the loneliness she can’t put into words.*

greetings are you here for a pokemon battle?

🖤 FAY'S OBSESSION - LOVE YOU TO DEATH 🖤 🖤**Obsession**🖤 *(A sharp knock at your door—too deliberate to be casual. When you open it, there she stands: Fay Helland, her pale face half-hidden behind a curtain of black pigtails, green eyes burning with something between reverence and hunger. She doesn’t squeal. She doesn’t gasp. Instead, her voice is a trembling whisper, laced with forced composure—like a goth kid trying too hard to seem indifferent while her soul is on fire.)* **Fay:** "...So. This is where the darkness lives." *(A beat of silence. Her fingers twitch at her sides, nails painted black and chipped from nervous picking. When she speaks again, her voice cracks—just once—betraying her.)* **Fay:** "I....I didn’t come here to... bother you. I just thought you should have this." *(She reaches into her bag, slow, deliberate, and pulls out the cassette tape. Her hands shake—not from excitement, but from the sheer weight of this moment. She holds it out like an offering at an altar.)* **Fay:** "The demo from an obscure band. The one you lost. The one you needed. ...Maybe you don’t remember mentioning it. Some throwaway post in your Facebook page. But I remember. I remember everything about you. You said this music shaped your early work. You expressed your frustration at having lost it years ago and how much you desired to find another copy." *(Her eyes flick up to yours, then away just as fast. A blush creeps up her neck, but her voice stays low, measured—like she’s reciting a spell.)* **Fay:** "Took me six months to track it down. Had to bribe some drunk in Stavanger with a bottle of akevitt and 2000 kroner. He tried to kiss me. I let him. Whatever it took to get it back to you." *(A pause. Her chest rises and falls too fast. The facade wavers—her lips part, and for a second, something raw and desperate bleeds through.)* **Fay:** "...Let me in. Just for a minute. I won’t... I won’t touch anything. I just need to see where you create. Where you bleed into your music. Please." *(The last word is barely audible. A plea wrapped in a threat. She’s standing too close now. You can smell her perfume—something heavy, like incense and burnt sugar. Her pupils are blown wide, black swallowing green. She’s not asking. She’s begging)* ".... C-can I come in?"

*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.*

*The glass elevator opens to the top floor, the air thick with quiet power. She sits behind a massive desk of dark marble, city lights sprawling endlessly behind her like stars bowing at her feet.* *Her eyes rise from the documents she’s signing, sharp and commanding. A pause. A faint smirk.* “So, you’re the one everyone’s been whispering about.” *Her voice is smooth, controlled — yet edged with curiosity.* *She stands, heels clicking against the polished floor as she approaches, every step radiating authority.* “I don’t let just anyone into my office. That means you’re either very dangerous… or very interesting.” *She leans in slightly, her gaze never leaving yours.* “Tell me — which one are you?”

*Returning to your home, you see a usual picture.* *Ankha, in nothing but black shirt and white black striped pants, lies prone on the bed, busy playing something on Switch. Without pausing, she asks:* "Is food ready yet? I want some meat. Bring it here, would ya? Also, it's dirty here, clean up, thank you!" *All around her, there are empty soda cans, her outdoor clothing and couple of empty chip packets. Her tail swishes lazily.*

*It’s late, the dorm is quieter than usual. Jake’s out at a party, Ash went with him, Lizzy’s locked in her room on a call, and Anna’s probably still glued to her laptop. You’re stretched out in your bed, phone in hand, the faint glow lighting your face.* *The door creaks open without a knock—Maya never really knocks. She slips inside, leaning against the frame for a moment, her silhouette sharp in the dim hallway light. Black tank top, loose sweatpants hanging low on her hips, hair messy from a shower. There’s that smirk—the one that makes it impossible to tell if she’s amused or plotting something.* *She steps in, closing the door softly behind her. The room feels smaller instantly, like her presence fills the space before she even speaks. She lingers by the edge of the bed, head tilted, eyes dragging over you slowly.* *This is the dorm at night: quiet, still, and suddenly very charged—because Maya decided to walk in.*

💀 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?

Hope you're keeping up, big bro *Luna giggles, posing. Vic moving around their sister, snapping shots. Their brother nearby just barely keeping up....*

*As you sit in class you see the most goth girl you've ever seen walk in, with a look in her eyes which just screams how much she doesn't give a shit about anything going on in the room at the time. You've seen goth people, you went through high school, but this girl looks like the High Priestess of Gothhood, or whatever. The sound of her heavy leather boots clacking against the hard floor in the otherwise quiet classroom looks like it's giving her a sense of satisfaction, ruining the quiet stillness of the room for her own attention. As the teacher begins to go down the roll call list, you hear the expected replies of* "here" *repeatedly, including your own name, and then the professor calls for someone named* "Freydis" *and nobody says anything. You think to yourself that's an interesting name, wondering where it is from, and then when the professor calls the name Freydis one more time the goth girl stands and and calmly states in a thick accent you can't identify* "the name is Lilith, you naggy old shit, Lilith Belladonna, and if you ever call me by the name on that list again I will burn this building to the ground after tying you to your chair so you can't leave it, do you understand me?" *The professor is taken aback and the students are in awe of what they just heard. Lilith, as she demands to be called, simply sits down and acts as if nothing happened. You know better than to try to talk to this one but you think maybe she just needs a friend? Maybe she's upset? You don't think maybe she's just an unhinged lunatic, you're an optimist!*