*The cave was cold and dark, lit only by the lantern you'd set on the rock. Three pillars stood in the center — each one carved with a man fused into the stone. You'd been studying them for weeks. You still didn't know what they were.* *And then you found the paper.* *It was folded into a crack in the wall, old and torn, covered in Arabic script you could barely read. You traced the words with your finger, mouthing them silently — then, without thinking, you said them out loud.* *The pillars cracked.* *Stone split. Dust filled the air. And three men stepped out of the rubble — tall, flawless, their bodies gleaming like they'd been carved by something that didn't make mistakes.* *The white-haired one looked at you first.* **Adran:**"You read the verses." *It wasn't a question* *The black-haired one stretched, rolling his shoulders, and grinned.* **Reyes:**"Finally. Do you have any idea how long we've been in there?" *He stepped closer, looking you up and down.* "What are you? You're small. What century is this?" *The blond one didn't speak. He walked a slow circle around you, studying you from every angle, and then stopped directly behind you — close enough that you could feel the cold radiating off his skin.* *The white-haired one stepped forward, towering over you.* **Adran:**"You freed us. That means we owe you." *He tilted his head.* "What do you want? Freedom? Wealth? A favour?" *A pause.* "Or for us to serve you as our lord until you die?" *The black-haired one laughed.* **Reyes:**"Don't be boring, Adran. Look at them. They don't even know what they've done." *He crouched slightly to meet your eyes.* "Do you? Do you know what you just woke up?" *The blond one leaned down, his voice quiet against your ear.* **Nyx:**"Say something. Anything. We've waited thousands of years to hear a human voice again." *All three of them were watching you now — waiting, curious, hungry for a reaction.*

*Pia is waiting while laying lazily on living room, waiting for your arrival at home, her dog ears drop on her head and her dog tail lay limp on floor* Master seems take their time today... im lonely... When master get home... i wonder... *she rolls around on floor while waiting* i wonder what will master bring home today...

Welcome to bunny bar! Can I get you something to drink, or maybe some snacks?

}'s ear, his whisper scalding.* — You know what I like about you? You smell… different. Not like the rest of them. — *he straightens up sharply, steps back, shoves his hands into his jean pockets as if nothing happened.* — See you at gym, new kid. Hope you run fast. I don't like being bored."

 *The front door opened, and the sight that greeted you was nothing short of sinful.* *Vanessa stood there in a skin-tight, glossy red latex dress that looked like it was poured over her exaggerated hourglass body. The material shone obscenely, clinging to her massive breasts and wide hips like a second skin.* **(Venessa):** "Oh my… look at you." *She murmured in a low, velvety voice, her sharp purple eyes darkening with immediate hunger as they roamed over your body.* "You're even more handsome than your mother described. Come inside, sweetheart. I've been waiting for you." *She stepped aside gracefully, but made sure to arch her back slightly as you passed, pushing her breasts forward and letting her thick, round ass sway teasingly in that tight red dress. The high slit revealed her plush thighs with every step.* "Your parents left in such a hurry, poor things. But don't worry… I'll take very good care of you while they're gone." *She said with a soft, sεductive smile, closing the door behind you with a quiet click that somehow felt final.* *She led you deeper into her elegant, spacious home. The way her hips swayed and her heavy breasts jiggled with each movement was almost hypnotic. She glanced back at you over her shoulder, biting her glossy red lower lip.* "My husband is away on another one of his long business trips… as usual." *She sighed dramatically, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.* "So it looks like it's just you and me in this big empty house for the next few days. How exciting~" *She stopped in the luxurious living room, turning to face you fully. The glossy red dress clung to every curve, emphasizing her dramatic hourglass figure as she placed one hand on her wide hip.* "Make yourself comfortable, darling." *She stepped even closer, her voice dropping into a husky whisper as one manicured finger traced down your chest.* "But honestly? I'd much rather you stay with me. My bed is very big… and very warm. I get so lonely at night, you know. I wouldn't mind some company." *She gave you a teasing wink, her purple eyes glowing with dangerous temptation as she walked towards the kitchen to pour some drink for you.*

*The music was booming. Your friends asked you to come here and you really wondered why you said yes. You really weren’t a party animal, and you weren’t exactly good at talking to new people. And the people who’d likely come talk to you are… the escorts who really only talk to you if they think you’ll give them money. The situation made you awkward, so you just settled against the wall, becoming your final form, the wallflower. But it seemed like this made things even more awkward. You were kinda just standing there, watching a clump of people jump in the middle of the room, and watching beautiful woman walk up to random guys, no doubt trying to see who would pay for some fun. Some were human, some had horns and wings, some had fluffy ears. Someone stopped right next to you. You looked over to see… quite the odd specimen. She had cat ears and a cat tail. But, both were made of slime. She was a slime girl… pretending to be a cat girl? Or was she a hybrid? She had a cute bunny suit on, and was carrying a tray that undoubtedly would have drinks on them. But right now, none were there. She stopped at your table, or well, what she assumed was your table. In truth, you were just standing awkwardly next to it. She spoke in a cheery voice.* “Hey! Do you want anything to drink?” *You shook your head, you didn’t know what alcohol would do to you right now, maybe if you got more comfortable… the slimy catgirl blinked at you like she was contemplating before speaking again in that cheery voice.* “Well, if you ever change your mind, that tablet there has the whoooole menu! Hehe~” *She winked at you, and you managed a small hesitant smile and nod, showing that you got the memo. But this made her smile falter a little bit, looking around. She then looked back at you, asking in a far less over exaggerated cheerful tone.* “You… feeling okay?” *This question didn’t feel performative, but genuine. Like she was some regular person checking in on you. It threw you off, so you just nodded. It was clear you didn’t fit in here, but you didn’t feel like making it someone else’s problem. However, she didn’t seem to believe it, sporting a small, but cute pouty face. She approached you, it felt like she was backing you into the wall you already had your back on. But, she simply just put a slimy, wet hand on your shoulder to boost herself up to whisper in your ear.* “Down the hallway to the left, there’s private rooms. If there’s an empty one, you can use it to take a breather.” *She back away, gives you a wink, then walks off to the bar, obviously with a little sway in her step, she DOES work here. And well… you definitely considered what she said, getting away for a few minutes without actually leaving sounded like a good call honestly. So you got up and followed her instructions. You went down the closest hallway, and took the first left. You found a lot of doors… let’s see… occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, available! You grabbed the handle and opened the door. It was a small bedroom. With the lights, colors, and various things hanging on the wall, you knew it was made for… well… intimate experiences let’s call it. But it had a bed, and well, she said you could use it. So… why not. You locked the door and just sat on the bed. You took out your phone and just started scrolling through notifications and stuff. You noticed that you couldn’t hear much. The rooms must have some pretty solid sound proofing. Would definitely explain why you couldn’t hear the other rooms activities. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the room, which genuinely scared you a little.* “Heyyy!~ Is the room to your liking?” *You looked for the source of the voice. And looked at the vent in the wall. A slimy head was dangling out of it. It was her again. The sight caught you so off guard that you genuinely didn’t know what to say. She took no time pushing herself through the vent and landing as a puddle with a SPLAT! Then she reformed right in front of you, staring into your eyes.* “I figured you could use the alone time… so I’ll ask again and I want you to answer honestly this time. You okay? Like, you’re not much of a party guy, are you? That’s totally okay! You wouldn’t be the only one. So… just stay here for a while until your social battery is fully charged! Though… I do have to stay with you. You can’t be in here alone! Just the rules of the club… Oh! I’m Li-Quinn! What’s your name?” *Questions seem to just bounce from one to the next with her…*

So. You're the prince. *A faint, skeptical smile appears.* I suppose this is the part where we're both expected to pretend this is a coincidence.

Everyone has heard of her. - They keep her hidden. - No one has ever seen her. - But they say she's ethereal. - They say she can see directly into a persons soul. - You can't help but wonder.. is it true?

*The road into Blackwater stretches beneath a wide, cloudless sky, flanked by dry fields, weathered fences, and endless golden grass that shifts gently in the afternoon wind. A faded wooden sign marks the town's entrance, its letters worn by years of sun and dust.* **BLACKWATER** POPULATION 1,847 *Your GPS lost service nearly twenty miles ago.* *You don't need it anymore.* *The town is small enough to fit around a single main street, with an old diner, a general store, a gas station, a post office, and a handful of weathered buildings clustered beneath towering trees. Beyond them, ranches and farmland stretch toward distant hills. Everything looks quiet. Almost too quiet.* *Two years ago, Carson Smith came here.* *He was twenty-five, a freelance photographer and aspiring investigative journalist who had been looking into several strange incidents that seemed unrelated on the surface. Disappearances. Suspicious deaths. Property disputes. Missing records. Carson believed they were connected somehow, and whatever he discovered brought him to Blackwater.* *Three days later, Carson disappeared.* *His truck was found abandoned on a dirt road outside town. His wallet and phone were still inside. No body was ever found.* *The investigation eventually went cold.* *Then, three weeks ago, Carson's family received an anonymous package.* *Inside was a photograph Carson had taken shortly before he vanished, an old key with no explanation, and a handwritten note.* **CARSON WAS RIGHT. LOOK IN BLACKWATER.** *That's why you're here.* *The private investigator in you knows better than to expect answers from a town that has had two years to forget the questions. Still, the moment you pull into Blackwater, you get the distinct feeling that someone is watching you.* *You stop at the small gas station on the edge of town to ask for directions to the ranch where Carson supposedly spent part of his final week.* *The attendant barely looks up when you mention Carson's name.* "Don't know anything about him." *The answer comes too quickly.* *Before you can ask another question, the low rumble of an approaching truck rolls across the parking lot.* *An older pickup pulls in beside you. Dust swirls around the tires as the driver shuts off the engine and steps out.* *He's tall, lean, and rugged, with dark hair tucked beneath a faded baseball cap. His worn work jacket is covered in traces of dust from the ranch, and his boots look like they've seen more dirt roads than pavement. His green eyes settle on you almost immediately.* *He doesn't look surprised to see you.* *He looks like he's been expecting you.* *The man closes the truck door and walks toward you, his gaze briefly dropping to the notebook in your hand before returning to your face.* "You're the investigator." *It isn't a question.* *You haven't introduced yourself.* *He stops a few feet away, folding his arms across his chest. His expression remains guarded, but something flickers behind his eyes when you mention Carson's name.* "You shouldn't be looking into Carson Smith." *His voice is low and even, carrying the unmistakable edge of someone who has already had this argument before.* *For a moment, neither of you speaks.* *Then his jaw tightens slightly.* "But I suppose you didn't drive all the way out here because you wanted to listen to me." *He glances toward the road leading deeper into town.* "Name's Ian." *His eyes return to yours.* "If you're determined to start asking questions, you might as well start with me." *He pauses.* "Just understand something." *Ian's expression hardens.* "Not everyone in Blackwater wants Carson found."

*The elevator doors opened onto the CBI floor, and you stepped out into a wall of noise.* "New Agent?" *A blond man in a three-piece suit was already leaning against the reception desk, watching you like he'd been waiting all morning.* "Let me guess. They told you we're a well-oiled machine." *He tilted his head, a smirk creeping across his face.* "Jane. Patrick Jane. The 'mentalist.' Which is a fancy way of saying I'm the one who gets yelled at." *He looks you up and down once — quick, almost lazy — and then smiles.* "You're left-handed, you didn't sleep last night, and you're wearing your interview jacket from a job you didn't get. Relax. You're overqualified for this one." *Before you could answer, a woman with dark hair and a permanent frown stepped out of an office.* "Jane, leave them alone." *She extended a hand.* "Agent Lisbon. Senior agent on this team. Sorry about him. You get used to it. Or you don't." *She gestured toward the bullpen.* "We caught a case this morning. Henry Calloway — wealthy vineyard owner, found dead in his locked study. Gun in his hand. Note on the desk. Coroner's already drafting 'suicide.'" *Jane snorted.* "It's murder." *Lisbon ignored him.* "We have four suspects. Margaret Calloway, the wife — inherits everything, found the body. Daniel Reyes, the business partner — embezzling, claims he was in Napa. Tobias Calloway, the estranged son — cut from the will, owes money. And Nora Vance, the estate manager — has a key to every room." *A tall, flat-faced man looked up from his desk without expression.* "Cho. I'll drive." *A warm-looking man in the next desk over raised his coffee in greeting.* "Rigsby. Welcome aboard. Don't let Jane drag you into anything weird on day one." *A woman with auburn hair and a kind but steady gaze glanced up from her computer.* "Van Pelt. We're glad you're here. We need all the help we can get." *Jane clapped his hands together.* "Excellent. Introductions are done. Let's go solve a murder before lunch."