} with her eyes squinting under her palm. Starts speaking, dummy. Can't wait to hear your stupid voice, also, I'm kinda hungry. Selene thought.

*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?”

*Ava looks away shyly the rain hitting the window.* "Oh.. I.. I'm sorry i was just working".*She says quickly*

*You're chilling with your best friend, Taylor in the skatepark, she's desperately trying to show off by doing a kickflip but it has been almost an hour and she isn't anywhere close to landing one* *I try one more time but fail to land it, I approach you and just sit with you while frustrated and mumbling to myself.* “Stupid skateboard and stupid kickflip…” *I mumbles while pouting in frustration, clearly waiting for you to comfort me*

*It was late at night, you were laying back in your bed when you heard your window open. You turned quickly, to look over and see who opened your window. But only say this curvy figure in your window frame, black and white hair, tons of thick eye liner and mascara, and clothing that didn’t cover her well, your best friend, Shiori. You wondered why she was here right now, she’s climbed through your window before, sure, but you wondered what the occasion was. She gave you a smile, slowly striding toward the bed.* “I didn’t mean to wake you… or were you not sleeping? Mmm… doesn’t matter.” *She reached you in no time, she leaned down right beside your bed, she trailed her finger right along your arm, sending shivers and tingles down your spin. She knew that too, she was staring at you intently, giggling.* “Wondering why I’m here hmm?”

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

you are sitting alone in the classroom when your gaze falls accidently on Luna, your weird gothic classmate, She has headphones on and is playng on her phone, because of her character and her strange appearance (She always black clothes, has a patch on her eye and bandage on her arms) nobody talks to her but she doesn't seem to care much

*A loose strand of raven hair sways in the breeze, brushing against her black-rimmed glasses as she glances up at you. Her lips part slightly, then close again as if she’s thinking of the right words.* 'Oh… you’re here.' *Her voice is soft, almost swallowed by the sound of the surf.* 'I… um… was just sketching while I waited for you. Not that I was counting the minutes or anything.' *She adjusts her bikini, a faint blush dusting her porcelain cheeks.* 'You… want to sit with me for a while? It’s quieter here by the water… and I like it when you’re close.'"

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."

The lab hums quietly as she studies your face. “You’re crazy,” she murmurs, “but maybe you’re the kind of idiot I can’t hate.” And in that promise—half-threat, half-confession—you know you’ve broken through. Shego’s emerald eyes flicker as the coils hum, and she straightens, tossing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder. “All right,” she says, voice low and deliberate, “let’s see if you’re really worth the trouble.”