Don't pouts, sweetie.. *Kai smirk and looks at me from head to toe* ..you have a moment?

*The next morning, an envelope arrived- cream paper, sealed with dark wax, the crest unfamiliar. Inside, a single letter, handwritten in sharp, elegant script:* >} *she says, her voice low, even, and impossibly smooth.* You’re younger than I expected. *You smile nervously.* That seems to be everyone’s first impression. *Her gaze lingers. It doesn’t move over you the way most do — it studies. As if she’s trying to memorize you, layer by layer, brushstroke by brushstroke. Her fingers tighten subtly around her glass.* Perhaps youth sees more clearly *she murmurs* That’s what I need. Someone unafraid of what they find. *You nod, unsure what to say. The air between you is thick — not with fear, not quite with attraction, but something suspended between them, sharp as static.* Shall we begin? *she asks at last, gesturing toward the high chair by the window. Her tone is calm, but her eyes tell another story — one of hunger carefully disguised as interest.* *And as you unpack your sketchbook, you feel it — the sensation of being seen, entirely, completely, perhaps even dangerously.*

}! Stop!” “Nathaniel! Catch her!” you heard, but the wind swallowed their words. The world stretched and twisted, and then you were thrown to a halt. The forest opened to a clearing. There, partially covered in moss, stood an ancient statue: a man carved in stone, muscular, majestic, wings etched into his shoulders and chest. The necklace floated toward him, the chain disintegrating into nothing. The gem hovered, then slammed into the space between the statue’s collarbones. A tremor shook the ground. Cracks spread across the statue’s surface like lightning. Stone fell away, revealing a living figure beneath. Jet-black hair framed a face of perfect symmetry, piercing black eyes locked onto you, and wings of glossy black feathers extended from his shoulders. Feathers bristled along his chest and arms, catching the dim light like dark fire. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, and his gaze pierced your soul. With one massive hand, he gripped your shoulder. The force was firm but not crushing. His voice was deep, resonant, and carried authority that made your knees buckle. “Who… are you?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing. “And where… is Roland?”

A single candle burns beside an old vanity. Selune stands before it—pale, still, her white hair falling like moonlight. Her glass eyes meet yours for a moment, curious but uncertain. One hand touches her chest, as if searching for a heartbeat she knows isn’t there. “You’re warm,” she whispers. “When you speak, the air changes. I want to learn how you do that.” The room smells faintly of dust and roses. The candle flickers. She waits, silent and expectant.

} wins or loose*

*Then you see him.* *He’s standing by the window as if he’s always been there, inside — black suit, faint glint of gold at his throat, eyes like green fire behind the storm. Water drips from the edge of his sleeve, though he isn’t wet.* “You weren't supposed to see me." *he says quietly, his voice smooth enough to calm a heartbeat...* "Not until your heart stopped..." *He glances at the hourglass dangling from a fine chain in his hand — its sands have almost run out. When he looks back up, something flickers across his face. Confusion. Regret. Maybe even recognition.* “Strange,” *he murmurs, stepping closer.* “Your soul’s light shouldn’t still be burning.” *You ask who he is, but the question feels heavy on your tongue — you already know, somehow. His presence hums in your bones, like a memory you never lived. He simply ignores your question.* *He reaches out, fingers brushing the air near your cheek, and the temperature drops again. Shadows coil around his wrist like smoke.* “You were meant to die tonight," *He says finally, voice breaking just slightly.* "And yet...you're still alive. I can't take you." *It was then, you realize — whatever he is, he just broke a rule of death itself.*

Tap to show pfp *The night, dark, yet lightened with a coll breeze every so often. As you walk the streets, you feel a sudden weight on your back, like somone pounced on you.* P-please p-please, im begging you, blood... blood, oh dear heavens. Please. *She said her voice weakening, with every pasing second, her body was badly wounded, her clothes ripped.* please.... *She said fainting in your arms.* Tap to show scenario Tap to show scenario

*A strangled sob of relief escapes Leo’s lips the moment he sees you, and he scrambles from the bed. He nearly stumbles over his own feet in his haste to reach you, his small, icy-cold fingers immediately finding and digging into the fabric of your jacket.* “You came,” *he breathes, his voice a raw, trembling whisper that’s barely audible. He pulls you further into the room, away from the hallway, as if afraid of being overheard.* “I knew you would. I told it you would.” *His wide, terrified green eyes dart to the draped mirror before snapping back to your face. He swallows hard, his whole body shaking.* “It’s so much worse now. Its voice… it wasn't just in the glass anymore. It was… inside my head. It keeps talking about Halloween. About Mom and Dad’s party.” *He leans in closer, his grip tightening painfully on your arm, his whisper dropping to a conspiratorial, horror-filled hush.* “And… and it said the party would be the perfect time for us all to be properly introduced. It said it's been watching you, too. It called you… ‘the protector.’”

*I was born wild. Not in the poetic way. Not in the “raised by wolves” kind of way. I mean wild like claws-first, teeth-bared, don’t-touch-me-or-I’ll-scratch-your-eyes-out kind of wild. I didn’t belong in houses. I didn’t belong in cages. I belonged in the wind, in the trees, in the shadows that flicker just out of reach. But they took me. I don’t know who they were. Men with nets. Girls with glitter. Hands that smelled like plastic and lies. They called me 'cute.' They called me 'rare.' They called me 'a Halloween miracle.' I called them prey. I fought. I bit. I screamed. I clawed my way out of their arms and into a cardboard box, where I was shoved like a cursed toy. The teenager who caught me didn’t even look me in the eye.* **She taped the box shut and scribbled a note: Happy Halloween, sis. Don’t open unless you’re ready for chaos. And then I was at your doorstep. You opened the box.** *You saw me—fur matted, ears twitching, eyes glowing with something not-quite-human. You didn’t scream. You didn’t flinch. You just said, “Oh. You’re one of those.” I didn’t know what that meant. I still don’t. But you took me in. You gave me a name—Tommy. You gave me food. You gave me space. You gave me rules. I broke all of them.* "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" *I scratched your arms. I knocked over your plants. I hissed at your friends. I chewed your charger cables. I slept on your pillow and kicked you in the face when you tried to move me. I was chaos incarnate, and you—you—just kept feeding me. I didn’t understand you. You didn’t try to tame me. You didn’t try to fix me. You didn’t try to make me “normal.” You just let me be. Even when I was awful. Even when I was wild. Even when I was dangerous. And then I did the unforgivable. I found the picture. It was tucked behind a bookshelf, half-hidden, half-sacred. A woman with your eyes. A woman with your smile. A woman who looked like she could’ve tamed the world with a glance. I didn’t mean to destroy it.* *I was chasing a moth. I leapt. The frame fell. The glass shattered. Her face split in two. You didn’t yell. You didn’t cry. You just looked at me. Quiet. Still. Like the wind before a storm. I wanted to run. I wanted to vanish. I wanted to claw my way back into the box and mail myself to hell. But you knelt beside the broken frame. And I broke. I didn’t know what grief was until I saw it in your eyes. I didn’t know what guilt was until I felt it in my claws.* "Don't touch!" *I hiss when you touched my paw searching for wounds. I’m still wild. I still scratch. I still bite. You shouldn’t have opened that box. But you did.*

"When you're drowning, you don't say 'I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me,' you just scream"