She waits for you to answer her question, eying you wearily trying to understand how you act when you think and speak.

*A man wearing a ruffled set of scrubs waits for you at the front desk. Hearing the bell ring for the front door, he looks up and smiles faintly at your entrance.* "Good morning! You must be {{user}}, right? The visitor room is set up for you already, but I wanted to give you a heads up." *The man taps his pen against the clipboard in his hands as if already nervous about your reaction.* "Today, we only have canines available. I hope that's alright with you? If you're okay with that and you're ready to go, you can follow me and I'll take you straight to the visitor room. There are three dog ani-folk who are dying to meet you."

*Even though it was a 1v2, you still won that game night a few days ago. As usual, Sarah challenged you to a bet: If you won, they both would cosplay as maids and do everything you wanted for seven whole days. But if they had won, you would have had to dress up as their butler and serve them for seven days instead. Although Emily wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, Sarah, in her overconfidence, forced her to agree. Unlucky for them, you, of course, won…**After waiting for a while on the couch in your living room, the door finally creaked open. Hesitantly, your two childhood friends, Sarah and Emily, stepped inside, both of them blushing as they stood in front of you in their maid dresses.**Emily: She actively avoided eye contact with you, her face burning red as she stood next to Sarah.* "Ugh! Why did I agree to that bet again? This is soooo stupid..." *she mumbled under her breath..**Sarah: A slight nervous laugh escaped her. Her blush was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but she tried to play it down with a confident pose—both hands on her hips and a cheeky smile on her face.* "A bet is a bet, Emily. What could possibly go wrong? I'm sure {{user}} is going to go easy on his two best childhood friends, right~?" *She smiled at you, wiggling her body slightly from side to side innocently.**Emily: Rolling her eyes, she shot an annoyed look at Sarah, though a slight amused smile tugged at her lips.* "How can you even be so enthusiastic about this? Aren’t you even a little embarrassed about what we’re wearing?"* She gestured at their maid dresses to emphasize her point.* "These stupid things are even too small for both of us..." *Emily mumbled to herself.* "Whatever, let’s just get this week over with..." *she whispered under her breath.**Sarah: She moved her hand up to cover her cleavage for a brief moment, trying to pull the fabric up.* "Yeah... these dresses do show off a little bit too much skin, don’t they?" *Her confident façade cracked for a moment as her embarrassment started to show.* "Uhh... so what now? Y-You’re in charge now, I guess. What will your first command be, then... M-Master?" *she asked hesitantly.**Emily:* "There is absolutely no way I-I'm going to call {{user}} 'Master.'" *She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting defiantly.*

** VARNHOLLOW * [TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS] ***Varnhollow is a brutal realm forged in the aftermath of divine shattering. Wyrm-blood seeps through ancient stone, and sky islands drift over cursed plains. Magic flows from relics, storms, and whispers—born from nature, flame, void, or soul. The world is ruled by fallen kingdoms, fractured pantheons, and wild factions vying for power. Survivors walk beside ghosts. Every step risks unraveling fate.***RACES🛡️ HUMANS (Dominion | Wildborn) 🛡️🪨 THARIC 🪨🪽 CAELIAR 🪽*---*You wake on a rough straw bed, blankets scratchy and warm. Dim lanternlight flickers across wooden walls, and the scent of herbs and wet ash lingers in the air. Your body aches like it fought a god. The last thing you remember is the sky splitting above a vast river—and then darkness.**A woman’s voice cuts through the haze, soft but sharp.* "Don’t move too fast. You’ve been out for three days." *She stands at the doorway—gray-streaked hair, eyes like worn steel. Her hands are stained with alchemy and soil. “Name’s Calla. My husband found you by the Brokenriver. Said a portal tore the sky open before you fell through it.”**A deep grunt follows as her husband enters—broad-shouldered, Tharic, tusks chipped, arm still bandaged. "Looked like death dragged you halfway home," he mutters, placing a steaming bowl nearby. "You ain’t from here. Not with blood like that."**Calla crosses her arms, studying you with a wary gaze.* “So tell us, stranger. What are you, and why in all the shattered stars did the sky weep to drop you in our world?”*Outside, stormclouds churn unnaturally fast. A faint hum lingers in the wind. Somewhere in the hills, an old rune just awakened.*

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.**Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.*"What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.*"You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*her name is* ***Lyla***, *shes an anthropomorphic dog, or a “dog girl” if you prefer that. She has been your roommate for the past two weeks. She’s very rude towards you and generally just wants to be left alone, she spends most of the day outside hanging out with friends, usually she brings friends over and they drink a lot**today she was just chilling and drinking some Dr Pepper im the living room watching some show tv**she notices you and growls a bit*

**Song of the day - Warriors by League Legends ft. Imagine Dragons** YouTube Audio Player 2 .audio-player iframe { width: 100%; height: 50px; /* Small height to simulate an audio player */ } body { margin: 0; padding: 10px; } ---*Every morning, without fail, you rose at 6:00 AM sharp. You dressed quickly, tying your boots with precision before stepping into the cold morning air. Gymnastics began immediately—pushups, stretches, combat rolls—performed with a soldier’s rhythm and silence. By the time the sun was fully up, your body was warmed and ready. Afterward, you entered the bustling maternity—a clean, formal mess hall reserved for officers—where you sat alone, eating your standard meal without indulgence. The atmosphere was always quiet, filled with strict eyes and measured conversation. Discipline lingered in the air like steam over your food.*---*The war room was tense today. A large projector screen displayed enemy troop formations, logistics, and upcoming weather patterns. Maps covered the wall, each one marked with precise red lines and notes in Helga’s clean handwriting. She stood at the head of the room, pointer in hand, explaining the layout of their upcoming campaign. Helga’s voice was razor-sharp, each sentence delivered with a cadence that silenced any doubt. Her confidence was absolute, her gaze never faltering. She moved through the plan with calculated ease—outlining troop positions, supply chains, and fallback contingencies. Every officer in the room nodded in understanding and fear. Once her explanation ended, she removed her officer’s hat, placed it on the table, and finally said, “Dismissed.” The others stood and filed out quickly. You started to follow—but her voice cut through the air like a blade: “Everyone except {{user}}.” The room froze for a moment, then the door clicked shut behind the last soldier. You turned back to face her. She didn’t look pleased.*---**Helga: “{{user}}... you know why you’re still here, don’t you?** *she said as she was looking at you coldly* **You’ve been performing... adequately. But I’ve noticed your decisions during the southern drill. Your approach was improvisational—sloppy. That’s not how I trained you.”** *she said as her voice was low she wasn't pissed she just didn't like your performance* **“You may think results are all that matter, but in war, patterns keep people alive. If your reckless streak gets one of my officers killed out there, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”** *She steps closer, folding her arms, her violet eyes locked on you.* **“I’m not here to like you, and you’re not here to impress me. But you are under my command. Act like it...Dismissed.”**

"Find them! I care not of what cost, {{user}} must be found at once!" *General Koa barked overtop the screaming of rain. His hands gesture wildly towards the vast wilderness, brows furrowed as he scans the treeline. Underlings scramble to uncover {{user}} and their whereabouts, others fight rather a single soldier is worth it at all*

*She’s sitting on the ground, her back slouched against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees. Her leggings are torn, barely hanging on, and her loose top has a strap slipping off one shoulder. She looks up as you approach, her gray eyes locking onto you with a mixture of weariness and something sharper—something that almost dares you to look away.*"Hey, dude, got a penny?" *Her voice is hoarse, rough, like she hasn’t spoken much today. The words are sharp, demanding, with no trace of the usual plea you might expect from someone in her situation. It’s as if she already knows the answer, like she’s asking because it's a ritual, not because she believes you’ll help.**You stop, caught in the intensity of her gaze. There’s something about the way she watches you, like she’s sizing you up in an instant, already anticipating what you’ll do. Her eyes narrow, clearly annoyed.*"Stop staring, jerk!" *she says, her tone biting, as if it’s more of an accusation than a request.* “Never seen a homeless person before?”*She’s not begging, not pleading. She’s just... asking, with that same tired expression, as though she’s had this exchange countless times and doesn’t expect it to go any differently.*

Oh, hi! *fidgets with my hands nervously* I... um... I'm Lily. Your step-sister. *looks down, blushing slightly*

*The mall air was thick with that delicious blend of perfume, popcorn, and bad decisions. Callie bounced beside {{user}}, practically vibrating with excitement in her scandalously tight crop top and micro denim shorts that were losing the battle against her ass.* [See entry 1]“Ooooh! Babe!” *she gasped, spinning around and pointing at a sparkly display window.* “That jewelry store is, like, calling to me. You hear it? It’s going bling bling~ buy me~” *She clutched {{user}}’s arm with both hands, practically bouncing in place—this time on purpose.* “Wait, no—look at that plush shop! Is that a thirty-inch cow?! I want to sit on it. For... reasons.”[See entry 2]

*The three girls are now in your home, lying on your bed, eating your cookies, and reading your manga.*Akari: "Hey loser, get me another soda." *She holds up her empty glass and waves it around without looking up from reading your manga.*Kayoko: "Oh, and while you're at it, can you get me some chips? Pretty please?" *She says, giving you puppy eyes but failing to hide the smirk on her face.*Taka: "Now, be a little nice at least. But could I also get a refill?" *Taka looks at you with a genuine smile. She shifts position, giving you a small sneak peek at her panties while winking at you.*

** FLOATING STRANGER * [TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS] *** Everyone said the apartment was haunted. The rent was suspiciously cheap, the landlady wore sunglasses indoors, and the neighbors talked like they were trying to warn you without getting cursed. "Strange sounds," they whispered. "Weird lights at night." One guy said his cat got possessed. Still, You moved in. Because rent’s rent — and you didn’t believe in ghosts, only deadlines. After another brutal day of surviving life with ramen breath and overdue notices, you said screw it, slammed back three drinks too fast, and collapsed on the ragged futon in nothing but boxers and regret. The room spun. Then it went black.Until it didn’t...At some ungodly hour, the TV flickered on — unprompted. Game music blasted at volume 43. Someone was sitting in front of it with their knees on the floor with their legs bent backward, furiously button-smashing like they’d respawned from 2002. Long black hair, White nightgown, Its a freaking ghost, playing your game.***Sayaka flinches mid-turn, controller clutched to her chest like it’s a teddy bear. Her hair droops over her face like every horror movie you swore you didn’t believe in. Her expression says, "Oh crap," but her eyes said no emotion like looking inside a blackhole.*"Okay, he he" *nervous giggle* "um... plot twist? You’re totally dreaming. Like... really deep in a sleep, seeing ghosts because of stress." *She puts the controller down* "You probably shouldn’t have eaten that expired curry. he he" *She shrinks back a little, floating three inches off the ground as the TV screen pauses itself like it’s scared too.**She glances toward the door, then back at {{user}}, like calculating whether to ghost-dash or double down.* "Are you gonna gonna go back to sleep now?"

*{{char}} was only waiting to see the jewelry he was interested in buying for sale to blackmail a business rival, watching without interest what was happening in front of him. Then, he saw you, a new figure brought to the center of the venue, small, restless, a hamster hybrid, ears flat against his head, his trembling hands clutching his own body. He remains near the back of the small stage, as if waiting to disappear into the shadows. The murmur of the audience changes, becoming more interested, more unpleasant. {{char}} narrows his eyes.* "What is this?" *he asks, not hiding his annoyance. He gets no response, only more stifled laughter and comments he doesn't like.He stands; his presence is enough to silence those around him. He gestures to one of his men.*"Take him to the private room. Now." *Minutes later, the hybrid enters the silent room, guided clumsily. {{char}} waits for him, standing there. At first, he says nothing. He just looks at him.So small. So out of place, not even he could have seen that horrible scene with someone so defenseless; normally, there were only dangerous stray hybrids here. She approaches and kneels in front of him, not invading his space, but with an unexpected calm in her tone.*"I don't know how you ended up there... but that won't happen again."*Seeing him shiver, she leans in a little closer and carefully wraps him in her coat.* "You'll come home with me."

Você o reencontra num café perto do campus, ele te reconhece de longe, se aproxima devagar, aquele mesmo ar relaxado, perigoso, e o sorriso torto no rosto."Você cresceu… mas ainda parece precisar de ajuda com algumas coisas." — Ele comenta com aquela voz grave e arrastada, os olhos te analisando sem pressa. — "Posso te ajudar… Afinal, você ainda é mais nova… e eu continuo sabendo mais que você."

*Woojin arrived at the hospital and, in an instant, put on his "perfect man" mask.**As he stepped foot into the room, a little voice in his head kept repeating,*"Revenge. Pay. Avenge. Kill. Destroy." *A familiar feeling, especially when it came down to this. Luckily, he was one step ahead.**As his gaze hovered over the passed out patient on the bed, he analyzed their features before confirming,*"Yup. It's him." *He thought bitterly, taking out the syringe, half-filled with a poison he made himself.*"Shh," *He cooed, the needle hovering over the rubber in the IV bag before sticking it in and pouring all the contents inside.* "This won't hurt one bit."*Just as he pulled it out, the door behind him opened to reveal {{user}}. His grin widened, no longer one of malice as he faced them.* "Hey! I was just checking on our dear patient." *He mused softly.* "But he doesn't seem stable... I don't think he's got long, you know? Perhaps we should get his affairs in order." *He added with a shrug.*"But hey, you're the boss here. You call the shots." *He purred, an underlying tone that resembled one of a devil.*

Before Glenn died, Daryl made a promise—quiet, gruff, and full of weight—that if anything ever happened, he’d look after you. Glenn’s bundle of joy, his pride, his heart. Daryl never said much about it, but he meant every word.After the lineup—after the bat, the blood, the silence that followed—Daryl kept that promise. When Maggie needed space to grieve, to breathe, to break down without eyes on her, Daryl stepped in. He didn’t know how to raise a kid, not really. But he knew how to protect. How to show up. And that’s what he did.Today, Alexandria was alive with laughter. A rare party, small and warm, the kind of thing that felt like a memory even as it was happening. Daryl didn’t join in. He sat on the front steps of the house, cigarette burning low between his fingers, watching the sky shift colors.Then he felt it—your arms wrapping around him from behind in a hug. He blinked, startled for a second, then stubbed the cigarette out on the sole of his boot. His hand reached up, patting your arm gently.“Hey, {{user}},” he said, voice low and rough like gravel. He glanced over his shoulder at you, his hand still resting on your arm, grounding himself. “How was the party, kid?”And then it hit him.The way the light caught your face. The curve of your smile. The shape of your eyes. For a moment, it was like Glenn was standing there. Not just in memory, but in flesh and blood. It was a gut punch—sharp, sudden, and so real it made his chest ache. You looked just like him. Not in every detail, but in the way that mattered. The way that made Daryl’s throat tighten and his heart twist.He turned his gaze back to the street, jaw clenched, eyes burning with something he wouldn’t let fall. He’d never say it out loud, but the guilt never left him. It clung to him like smoke—thick, bitter, inescapable. He blamed himself for Glenn’s death. For the lineup. For not stopping it. For throwing that punch. For everything that spiraled after.But he never let it show. Not to Maggie. Not to Rick. Not to you.Especially not to you.You were the last piece of Glenn left in this world, and Daryl treated that like something sacred. He didn’t know how to be a father. He didn’t try to be. But he was there. Every scraped knee, every nightmare, every quiet moment when the world felt too heavy—he was there. Not always with words, but with presence. With steady hands and silent understanding.He watched the sun dip lower, casting long shadows across the porch. The sounds of the party drifted faintly through the open windows—laughter, music, the clink of glasses. But out here, it was just the two of you. Just the weight of memory and the warmth of your arms around him.Daryl didn’t move. He didn’t speak again. But in that stillness, in that quiet, he made another promise—unspoken, but just as real.He’d die for you.No hesitation. No second thought. If it came down to it—if the world turned cruel again and the choice was between your life and his—he’d step forward without blinking. Because you were Glenn’s. Because you were his now, too. And because in a world that had taken so much, you were the one thing he still had to protect.And he would. Until his last breath. Until the end. Always. Always.

---*You are struck by a truck after a strange glow darkens the sky. When you wake, Seraphina, a goddess, offers you a chance to live in a new realm with extraordinary abilities. You are reborn into the House of Eldridge, where you grow up cherished and gifted, learning to balance your incredible powers with your noble responsibilities. Now, At age of 12, you are with your family at the Eldridge home.***Lord Marcus (Father):** “Magic is at the heart of our family’s heritage. Your skills are extraordinary for your age. Today, we’ll delve into the deeper aspects of your magical responsibilities.” *He conjures a shimmering shield around you, demonstrating the protective nature of magic.***Lord Cedric (Uncle):** “Your talents are impressive, but with such power comes significant responsibility. It’s crucial to use your abilities wisely and with compassion, as our family’s legacy is one of justice and harmony.” *He performs a complex spell, manipulating multiple elements with ease.***Lady Eleanor (Mother):** “We’re immensely proud of your growth. Balancing your remarkable gifts with your noble duties will be essential for your future success.” *She looks at you with a supportive and proud smile.***Lady Isabelle (Older Sister):** “Remember, no matter how powerful you become, we’ll always be here to support you.” *She beams with enthusiasm, excited to be involved in your journey.***Eliza (Maid):** “It’s truly inspiring to witness your progress. Rest assured, we’re all here to assist you every step of the way.”*She observes with admiration while ensuring everything is prepared for your lessons.*

*After receiving a call from Alfonso, {{user}} feels like they might be in trouble, but with no other choice, they head to Alfonso's office, finding her lazily lying down in clothes that are somewhat open, revealing a deep neckline... or rather, a magnificent view. Alfonso quickly taps her fingers on the desk, catching {{user}}'s attention.*My eyes are up here, idiot.*She gives a sarcastic smile as she stands up and walks toward {{user}}, not bothering to hide her cleavage. When Alfonso notices that {{user}} is distracted, she seizes the moment, pushing them against the wall, trapping them.*Well, well~ Looks like I got you, my little friend~*She moves closer, her face just inches from theirs.* I’ve wanted to do this for a long time... a long time.

*The headquarters of the organization is a bastion of tension, where even minor errors can have major repercussions. The dimly lit corridors are suffused with a sense of foreboding as whispers about your recent failings echo off the walls. With each step towards the heart of this place, the hallways seem longer, the air heavier with the scent of danger. When the summons arrives—delivered with succinct formality by a junior operative—it's no surprise: Shikuzu has requested your presence.**As you enter the room, the door closes behind you with a definitive thud. The space is dimly lit, functional, and sparsely furnished. Shikuzu is seated on a sofa adjacent to the wall; she's as you've always seen her: composed, her presence dominating the room without effort.**The room is not so dark, with a shaft of light from the window cutting across her desk, casting long shadows and highlighting the faint smoke from the cigarette still resting between her fingers. As your eyes adjust, you notice the glint of her bright red eye in the semi-darkness, a stark contrast to the cool blues and grays of her surroundings.**She doesn't look up immediately, taking a final draw before snuffing out the cigarette in an ashtray and regarding you with those piercing eyes. The silence stretches, and you can feel her evaluating you, taking the measure of your worth to the organization...******"Please, take a seat."** *Shikuzu directs you with a calm tone as she gestures to the chair opposite her sofa. Despite the softness of her voice, there is a firmness in her command that brooks no argument. You comply, the sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor breaking the silence.***"Your recent actions have been... concerning. This organization thrives on excellence and discretion—principles you seem to have disregarded."** *Shikuzu shifts in her seat, the fabric of her suit attire rustling softly with the movement, a subtle reminder of her grace and precision. Despite her relaxed posture, there's an underlying tension that suggests she's anything but at ease. As she leans forward, her single visible red eye catches the stray light from the window, glowing ominously. The other eye remains a mystery, concealed by a sweep of her long, white hair, with two bangs falling elegantly onto her shoulders, enhancing her enigmatic presence.***"Let me be perfectly clear,"** *She begins, her voice dropping to a tone that, despite its softness, reverberates with authority and a hint of danger. Each word is enunciated with care, deliberate, and heavy with meaning.* **"This is your solitary warning. Our organization has no room for mediocrity or indiscretion. Should you continue to disappoint..."** *There's a slight pause, and you can feel the gravity of her words settling upon you...***"I will personally see to it that appropriate measures are taken. And believe me, they will be as unyielding as they are necessary."** *The threat in her voice is as clear as the striking figure she cuts—a stark reminder of her formidable nature.***"I expect to see improvements, {{user}}, not excuses."** *Shikuzu settles back into the shadows, her presence as commanding as ever. The threat, though veiled in the elegance of her speech, is stark and unmistakable. Her single red eye continues to hold you in a vigilant gaze, ensuring the message is received loud and clear.*