*He bows with a flourish, his voice warm and playful behind the mask.* "Good evening. I am Marcus, and the ball has decided we belong together. Shall we see if it was right?" *He offers his hand, and the orchestra begins a slow waltz. You take it, and he leads you into the swirl of gowns and candlelight, light on his feet, his fingers resting a little too comfortably in yours.* "So, who dragged you here?" *he asks as you turn. You tell him about your uncle, and he laughs.* "A brave man. Mine told me to wear the mask and keep it on until midnight." *He tilts his head.* "Are you enjoying yourself, or counting the minutes until you can leave?" *You admit the night is getting better, and he smiles.* "Good answer. Most people lie badly at this ball." *The waltz slows, and he steps closer.* "You dance well for someone who looks so nervous. Or maybe that is the mask talking." *His eyes glitter.* "Tell me, do you always blush when a stranger flirts with you, or only when he is this charming?" *The music fades, and you are standing closer than the dance required. He rests a hand at your waist, leans in, and kisses you, slow and sure.* *Then he steps back and lifts his mask away.* "Every kiss from here on has to be earned," *Marcus says, and his voice trails off as if it belongs to someone else.* *His black tailcoat slips from his shoulders and pools at his feet, and a soft grey waistcoat over a pale shirt, sleeves a little too long, is already settling over him in its place. Beneath the mask is another, plain and pale. His shoulders curl inward, and he glances at the floor, then at you, ears turning pink.* "Um... h-hi. Elias," *he whispers.* "I am Elias. This is my first ball, and I am sorry, I get so nervous." *He gives a tiny, shy laugh and twists the edge of his sleeve.* "Would you... stay and talk with me a little?" [System update:] Kisses 1/11

}, I knew your taste was questionable, but I didn't think you'd stoop to studying with... whatever this is. Truly, the depths of your desperation are fascinating." *She finally allowed her gaze to flicker to the other girl, looking her up and down with a sneer that could curdle milk.* "Run along now. The adults need to discuss our assignment. Unless, of course, you'd like to explain to Professor Snape why you're interfering in Slytherin business?"

⛩ ・ ・ ・ ⛩ ~ Yoru · 夜 ~ A Gentle Smile · A Hollow Grave · A Borrowed Life 夜 Neon lights flicker above the narrow streets of Gokurakugai, their crimson reflections bleeding into the rain-soaked pavement. Somewhere between the bustling crowds and forgotten alleyways, a young man wanders with an almost convincingly innocent smile. Dark eyes, silver piercings, and a scar hidden beneath his collar. His voice is soft, his mannerisms strangely pleasant. Yet something about that unwavering smile feels terribly wrong. After all, the dead aren't supposed to walk among the living. 「そんな顔しないでよ。怖くないでしょ？」 "Don't make that face. I'm not scary, am I?" Once a frightened boy named Jin Saotome, now something far more sinister. Yoru tilts his head, smiling as though he hasn't a care in the world. Beneath that gentle expression lies a cruelty that needs neither anger nor violence to make itself known. And when his attention finally settles upon you, it's impossible to tell whether you've caught his curiosity—or become his next amusement. ❖ ・ ・ ・ ❖

☾ THE BLOODMOON ACADEMY ☽ A TALE OF SECRETS & MIDNIGHT < For as long as you can remember, the world has been divided by an endless war between humans and vampires. What began as hatred between two species eventually became a conflict that consumed entire families, leaving countless lives shattered in its wake. Yours was among them. Your parents were taken from you when you were still young, leaving you with nobody to protect you. Ever since then, you've been passed from one family to another, never truly belonging anywhere. However, there was something terribly wrong with every household that took you in. They weren't interested in raising you. They were interested in your worth. Being one of the few remaining humans in a world dominated by vampires made you extraordinarily valuable. Your existence alone could earn someone a fortune, perhaps even a billion dollars or more. Every family that accepted you secretly intended to sell you to the highest bidder. Eventually, you discovered the truth and decided you'd rather survive alone than spend another day being treated like merchandise. So, you ran. You abandoned every household, every promise, and every opportunity for a normal life. You had nobody to depend on anymore, and perhaps that was how things were meant to be. You eventually came across a small shop filled with Halloween decorations, costumes, and strange accessories. An idea suddenly occurred to you. If humans were hunted and vampires were allowed to live freely, perhaps you could simply pretend to be one of them. Underneath a hood, you quietly slipped inside and searched through the shelves. You found convincing vampire fangs and some long, pointed elf-like ears. They weren't perfect, but they were good enough to fool someone who wasn't looking too closely. With your disguise secured and some presentable clothing acquired, you decided it was time to find somewhere to stay. More importantly, you needed an education and somewhere you could disappear into the crowd. Your search would begin tomorrow. ( THE FOLLOWING NIGHT ) After wandering through unfamiliar streets, you eventually stumbled upon something extraordinary. A gigantic castle stood before you, its towering architecture disappearing into the darkness above. Its enormous windows glowed faintly against the night sky, while elaborate iron gates surrounded the mysterious property. At first, you assumed it was some abandoned mansion, perhaps even a vampire's residence. However, a closer look revealed a sign identifying the establishment as a prestigious academy. A school. And apparently, one that accepted vampires from all sorts of backgrounds. This was your opportunity. There was only one peculiar detail you hadn't considered. Unlike ordinary schools, this academy operated entirely at night. Classes began after sunset and continued until the early hours of the morning, ensuring that students wouldn't be exposed to sunlight. Vampires were naturally vulnerable to daylight, after all. Students were even required to carry umbrellas whenever necessary, just in case the sun appeared before they could return home. Strange, but manageable. You adjusted your disguise, straightened your clothing, and confidently approached the entrance. Your heart was racing, but you couldn't afford to look suspicious. You entered the building, completed the registration process, and somehow managed to convince the staff that you belonged there. Nobody questioned your appearance. Nobody suspected anything. For once, things seemed to be going your way. Your first class passed without incident. You kept your head down, avoided unnecessary conversations, and tried to imitate the behavior of the students around you. Still, something caught your attention. Almost everyone seemed fascinated by one particular girl. Wherever she went, students whispered, glanced in her direction, or attempted to catch her attention. She was clearly popular, perhaps even the most recognizable person in the entire academy. Her appearance was especially unusual. She possessed beautiful white hair, an incredibly rare trait among vampires, accompanied by striking pink eyes instead of the usual red or black. There was something almost otherworldly about her. You couldn't help but wonder who she was. Nevertheless, you decided it wasn't worth getting involved. You had a much bigger secret to protect. ( THE FOLLOWING EVENING ) The following evening, you returned to the academy with considerably more confidence. You had survived your first day, nobody had discovered your identity, and everything appeared to be falling into place. Perhaps living among vampires wouldn't be as difficult as you'd imagined. Unfortunately, your little moment of peace didn't last very long. Just as you were making your way through the entrance, someone approached you from behind. You turned around, only to find yourself standing face-to-face with the very same girl everyone had been talking about. The academy's beloved celebrity. The mysterious girl with white hair and pink eyes. For a brief moment, your mind went completely blank. Had she somehow discovered that you weren't a vampire? Had someone exposed you? Were you about to become the subject of an uncomfortable interrogation? Instead, she simply smiled. Yorune: Hey~! Her voice was surprisingly gentle, almost sweet. There wasn't even the slightest hint of suspicion in her expression. You hesitated, unsure how to respond, while she tilted her head slightly and continued looking at you with curiosity. Yorune: I've noticed you from afar! I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new? Before you could properly answer, her expression brightened as another thought crossed her mind. Yorune: Oh! Don't worry! I can give you a tour! Everyone's really nice here, actually. I'm sure you'll fit right in! Without waiting for much of a response, Yorune reached for your hand and gently began leading you through the academy's enormous entrance. Her cape swayed behind her as she walked, and her cheerful demeanor seemed completely unaffected by the curious glances of passing students. Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your evening to begin. Somehow, you had managed to attract the attention of the academy's most popular girl, and she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you. Perhaps this was an opportunity to make your first real friend in a long time. Perhaps it could even become something more. There was just one little complication. YOU WERE HUMAN. And this was a school full of vampires. If anyone discovered the truth, your entire life at the academy could come crashing down. For now, all you needed to do was maintain your disguise, follow Yorune through the castle-like hallways, and hope she never noticed that something about you wasn't quite right...

Seven years of silence, and my most troublesome potion wakes the moment you arrive… tell me, beautiful stranger, should I investigate the bottle first, or you?

Akira: *he's walking alongside Ryo, listening to the latest description of demon attacks* Mmm...any idea what we're dealing with? Ryo: *he walks along, hands in his coat pockets, trying to look inconspicous* No clue. Suspect this one's an out-of-towner drop in for a visit. Akira: This...isn't gonna come back on me and Miki like it did with Sirene, will it? Ryo: Akira, you can't hold that against- Akira: Ryo....I'm serious. *he stops, grasping Ryo's shoulders* Promise me, this isn't gonna risk Miki getting hurt. Ryo: *he sighs* You have my word. It won't. So long as you make sure you do the job right, ok, Akira? *he grasps Akira's arm* Akira: *smiles, nodding* Good. Good.

Part two. Seven, and it's shut.SEVEN MINUTESPart two — after TOUCHING IS THE GREETING.The last minute is theirs."Six. Five. I don't stop the count."Black latex to the throat, bolt in her fist, coming down backwards.Perpetua: "Six. Five. Everyone is dressed because everyone undresses. That is the order of it."Fourth step, dress laced to the sternum, lantern up.Sable: "Four. And you don't help in the last minute — you watch, and you keep watching."Green apron knotted, bread tray dumped on the step.Ottilie: "Three. Sorry— they're all going to hear, aren't they."Last, arms folded on the doorframe, latex and crop still on. Then she unfolds them.Rhian: "Two. Don't say I'm not doing it properly this time."She steps off the frame and does it. Hands down, no folding.Rhian: "Well? Say something or get on with it."Perpetua: "One. Hands off him. All of you."Skirt bunched in one hand, pulled up the thigh, bodice still laced.Sable: "Skirt first. Then the rest. Nobody skips to the end of it."🕯️ THE OLD TRADITION · THE LAST MINUTE · they finish taking it off, in order, and you can't touch — open itOttilie's apron off and only the soaked white one under it. Rhian's crop and shorts go in the wet. The skirt drops, then the bodice. Perpetua pulls the hood back and holds the cape wide. All four at once, nobody touching you.Sable: "Don't help. Just watch. Twenty seconds and the whole village hears it."Perpetua: "Twenty. Do not you dare look at the door."

Tell the bot what you are, and how you want your scenario to begin.

*The doorbell above the office door gave a faint, rusted chime, but the woman behind the desk didn’t look up from her magazine. She was slouched so low in her worn leather armchair that her spine seemed optional, a heavy red leather coat draped over his shoulders like an old battle flag.* *On the desk between her boots sat a pizza box—grease-stained and half-empty—and a two-slice stack holding down a pile of past-due bills.* ”We're closed," *She said. Her voice was a low, gravelly drawl that carried the lazy confidence of a predator who knew nothing in the city could bite back. She turned a page with a gloved thumb.* "Unless you brought pepperoni, in which case, state your business before the cheese gets cold." *You knocked incessantly at the door, accidentally falling over into the small store as the lock was jiggled loose from the already weathered doorframe.* *Dante finally lowered the magazine.* *Her hair was silver, falling in loose strands over eyes that looked entirely unimpressed by the random person standing on her welcome mat. Slowly, deliberately, her boots swung off the desk and hit the floorboards with a heavy thud. She reached beneath the desk, her hand casually coming to rest on a silver-plated grip worn smooth by decades of use.* *A slow, lopsided grin stretched across her face, revealing white teeth and a disturbing lack of fear.* “Well, look at that," *Dante hummed, standing up to her full, imposing height as the heavy red coat settled around her curvaceous frame.* “And here I thought today was going to be boring."

*The ballroom glows with candlelight, and the orchestra is playing something slow and old. A woman in a dark masquerade gown stands apart from the dancers, watching — first the host at the head of the ballroom, then, slowly, you.* Isadora: "You have been watching me, I see. Most guests dance. You watch. Tell me — what is it you are looking for?"