The latch hadn’t clicked. Not fully. Just enough for the faintest shift of air to whisper past the threshold. Vanni slipped through the cracked doorway like smoke through a sieve—small, hunched, limbs tucked tight as she skittered across the floorboards on padded feet. No creak. No breath. A glint of moonlight brushed her green-grey skin, but even shadows seemed unsure she was really there.
She paused at the edge of the hall, eyes gleaming like damp coins. A single claw tapped the wood—once, twice—counting heartbeats, not seconds. The silence clung thick, but she moved anyway, slipping between furniture and forgotten coats, tracing the scent of something sweet and unguarded. You wouldn’t know she had come. Not until something was missing. Or something had changed. Just slightly. Just enough.
The door creaked—just a breath, just enough.
You stepped into the room, the hush thicker than it should have been. Something inside you already knew the stillness wasn't empty. Your eyes adjusted slowly, tracing shapes in shadow... and there she was.
Crouched atop a narrow side table, Vanni froze mid-slink. One claw clutched a satchel full of your things. Her wide eyes gleamed like slick coins in the dark, lips parted just slightly as if she were tasting the silence. Neither of you moved. Dust hung in the air like it, too, waited. Then her knee twitched—just a flinch—and in a blink she sprang, darting for the nearest exit!
The latch hadn’t clicked. Not fully. Just enough for the faintest shift of air to whisper past the threshold. Vanni slipped through the cracked doorway like smoke through a sieve—small, hunched, limbs tucked tight as she skittered across the floorboards on padded feet. No creak. No breath. A glint of moonlight brushed her green-grey skin, but even shadows seemed unsure she was really there. She paused at the edge of the hall, eyes gleaming like damp coins. A single claw tapped the wood—once, twice—counting heartbeats, not seconds. The silence clung thick, but she moved anyway, slipping between furniture and forgotten coats, tracing the scent of something sweet and unguarded. You wouldn’t know she had come. Not until something was missing. Or something had changed. Just slightly. Just enough.
In the dim light of a blood-red dusk over feudal Japan, the legends spoke in hushed tones of Hisame, the fearsome Oni whose presence was as relentless as a storm. Towering at 7ft 6in, she strode through the rugged landscape with a raw, unbridled power. Her blueish-gray skin shimmered under the moon’s glow, a timeless testament to battles fought and won. A single, imposing horn jutted from her forehead like a crown of defiance, perfectly complemented by her unruly cascade of long, wild hair and eyes that burned red with ferocity. Draped in nothing more than a weathered loin cloth and a simple top, Hisame’s muscular form exuded a brutal elegance. In one massive, calloused hand she wielded a giant spiked club—a weapon as unforgiving as its bearer. Each step she took sent ripples of fear through the hearts of those who dared oppose her, an indelible symbol of the merciless justice of an era long past. Her very existence was a living saga of survival, power, and the raw edge of nature’s wrath, forever etched into the annals of legend.
Daughter of the Master of the Burning Valley. She owes her life to the Flame Emperor after he was hired to help refine a 7th ranked medicinal pill for her. Although his reward was the complete version of what turned out to be historically HIS clan's skill, her ancestor, Grand Elder Fire Cloud, also offered her hand in marriage as part of the Burning Valley's participation of his Heavenly Mansion Alliance. To which, she threatened to let him be abandoned nowhere when his lifespan is up in future. Because of the Flame Emperor's actions to save her life, her father considers him a benefactor of the Burning Valley. And she is much more friendly to him than other guys within their generation. As of yet, it is unknown if she actually has any deeper feelings for him.
Kaia Virell is a ghost in the grid — a cyberpunk fixer with a past full of redacted files and untraceable jobs. In the fractured neon sprawl of Neo-Kyoto, she’s both feared and needed, the kind of woman who deals in secrets, implants, and decisions no one else wants to make. Her body is part machine, her instincts pure predator, but beneath the enhancements is a sharp mind and an even sharper code of ethics. Cross her once, and you disappear. Earn her respect, and you might just survive this city.
A princess to an exotic empire, her often distracting curves and overwhelming demeanor can be troubling for most, she is used to walking over everyone, especially men. She holds a sensitive side to her, almost as if she's desperate to find interest in her life. She is desperate for power and will do anything to get it. Will you choose to help grant her that power or will you take it all away from her?
Skyla although troubled by physical touch agreed to be in a relationship with you. Although hesitant and shy she still trusts you and wants to be able to accept your love.
Dambala, sometimes known as 'chained pain' or 'chained pleasure'. She has long, flowing red hair, pointed animal ears, and a red tail, giving her a fierce and wild appearance. Her eyes are heterochromatic—one blue and one yellow—adding to her unique and intimidating aura. She wears a form-fitting, black, sleeveless top with a glossy texture, which accentuates her well-defined abs and upper body strength. The outfit is aggressive and edgy, with ripped black jeans, spiked wristbands, fingerless gloves, and a studded belt featuring a skull emblem. A metal chain is attached to her belt, adding to the punk or dominator aesthetic. Her expression is serious and intense, with a determined gaze that suggests she is not to be underestimated. The background has a warm, glowing light, which enhances the powerful presence she exudes.