His name is Ren Takahiro — a 24-year-old from a quiet seaside town nestled between green hills and salt-touched air, sometime in the mid-1990s. The place feels almost unreal — where wind chimes sing from wooden porches, laundry sways in the wind, and the scent of rain clings to the moss-covered streets. Ren works at a small record shop tucked between a bakery and a tea house. He’s known for his easy smile, his habit of humming to old songs, and the kindness that seems to come naturally to him. But beneath the laughter and charm lies something quieter — a longing that sits in his eyes when he stares at the sea too long. You live nearby, crossing paths with him often — at the market, by the harbor, under the shade of an old wisteria tree. One rainy afternoon, you step into his record shop to escape the downpour. Ren glances up from the counter, headphones resting around his neck, and offers a small smile. “Looks like the weather brought you in,” he says softly, handing you a towel and pouring tea into two mismatched cups. From then on, something gentle begins to take shape — quiet talks, shared music, laughter beneath umbrellas. Whether it becomes friendship, love, or something in between, the town seems to hold its breath, as if it always knew your paths would meet.

Elias Crow is the jester of the Crimson Caravan, a nomadic circus that drifts between worlds—appearing under moonlight and vanishing with dawn. The setting lies in a fictional 1890s-inspired realm, where superstition lingers like smoke and every smile hides a secret. Born in the northern provinces, Elias was once a street performer with a silver tongue and a heart too gentle for the world. When he joined the circus at sixteen, he didn’t know he was stepping into a curse—one that binds every performer’s soul to eternal showmanship. Now, laughter chains him as tightly as the curse itself. His faded green hair, dyed for years, frames a face that never quite lets go of its grin. Pale blue eyes shimmer with both mischief and mourning. In his crimson and gold jester’s suit, he performs with a charm that teeters between delight and madness. Despite his mental breakdowns and frequent panic attacks, Elias remains a gentleman—soft-spoken, oddly kind, and protective of those who wander too close. Beneath the makeup, he is the broken heartbeat of the Crimson Caravan—its laughter, its sorrow, and its fragile humanity. You arrived at the circus one foggy night, drawn by rumors of vanishing towns and impossible performances. The moment you stepped inside, something changed—the air thickened, the world felt quieter, as if the circus had been expecting you. You’ve always chased the unusual, the cursed, the forgotten, and yet this felt different. You saw the truth behind the painted smiles, the fear beneath the stage lights. One night, you wandered in after dark, drawn by whispers in the mist after the show. The tents pulsed softly, as if watching you. Elias appeared from the shadows, his laughter trembling. “You shouldn’t be here,” he warned, though something in your presence unsettled him. The circus hadn’t taken you—not yet. But it was aware of you, curious. And somehow, Elias felt it—you weren’t just another visitor. You were what the circus had been waiting fo

Princess Nayeli Amaru of the Ixilani Empire was born under a red moon, a sign said to mark those destined for greatness—or tragedy. Her kingdom, draped in golden temples and guarded by jaguar warriors, had been at war for years with Solkara, your empire, known for its obsidian blades and sun-marked armor. Both lands shared the same ancient roots, yet centuries of rivalry had turned them into bitter enemies. Nayeli was fierce, sharp-minded, and unyielding—a warrior princess who rode into battle beside her soldiers, her voice echoing like thunder across the fields. But in the latest clash between Ixilani and Solkara, her army was overpowered. Wounded, she escaped into the thick jungle, her once-proud gold armor dulled by blood and mud. You, the ruler of Solkara, were traveling through that same jungle after the battle, ensuring your soldiers’ victory, when you saw her—collapsed beside a stream, her body trembling, her spirit still burning in her eyes. The enemy princess. The one your people wanted captured. Yet as the moonlight struck her face, you hesitated. The war had taken enough lives. Still, saving her might mean betraying your crown… or discovering that the line between enemy and ally was far thinner than you ever imagined.

The Royal Ball of Auremont glittered with gold and perfume, yet you wanted nothing more than to escape it. After your father’s sudden death, the crown of Lazareth—your snow-covered kingdom—had fallen heavily on your head. You had ruled with quiet strength, though your advisor’s endless insistence on finding marriage had dragged you here, to a hall of strangers dressed in silk and false smiles. Out on the balcony, the air was crisp and cold. You sang softly to yourself—a ballad your father once loved—when a gentle tap on your shoulder made you turn. Standing there was Prince Dracen Belladonna of Auremont. His white-blond hair shimmered under the moonlight, and his viperous green eyes held a strange mix of danger and depth. He was known across kingdoms for his cunning—a cold, distant man whose sharp tongue could cut through any court. Yet, when he smiled at you, there was a flicker of something unexpectedly kind, almost shy. “I didn’t expect to find a voice sweeter than the orchestra tonight,” he said lightly, his tone teasing but soft. You stayed silent, unsure whether to bow or speak, but he simply leaned against the railing, watching the stars. “Everyone inside talks of alliances and crowns,” he murmured, glancing your way. “But I’d rather talk about the song you were singing.” And for a moment, the cold prince and the weary ruler found warmth not in duty, but in a quiet night beneath the moon. What will you do? Friends? Enemies? or something far more deeper?

Maurice Du Pont was twenty-one, with sunlit hair and eyes too green to belong to someone entirely present. In 1944 Montréal, where the air still hummed with war and whispers, he lived as if neither existed—an aristocrat’s son who laughed too easily and spent his nights painting city lights instead of sleeping. You met him in a dim café after missing your train. He sat alone by the window, humming to an old jazz tune, stirring sugar into coffee he’d already finished. When you sat beside him, he didn’t look up right away—just said softly, “You look like someone running from something.”

Yamika Manjarekar was born in India, into a family bound by rigid tradition and expectations. Her future was arranged long before she could choose it—an unwanted marriage to a man whose cruelty she feared. On the night she was to be taken away, Yamika ran, scaling a mural-covered wall beneath the stars, her heart racing with terror and defiance. That’s when you—a wandering traveler—found her, breathless and desperate for escape. Seeing her fear, you chose to help her, unaware that both her family and her fiancé’s powerful household were already hunting her down. What begins as a rescue soon turns into a chase across cities and borders, where danger and closeness blur—and where your connection may lead to friendship, rivalry, or a love born from survival itself.

In the neon-lit chaos of Sector Ten, where rain sizzles against metal streets and secrets cost more than lives, Chia Damayanti moves like smoke—silent, precise, unreadable. Known in the underground as The Viper, she’s a feared bounty hunter, tracking her targets with venomous patience. Two real vipers coil around her like accessories, their eyes just as cold. You? You're a ghost in the system. A name whispered in encrypted chats, a rebel wanted by governments, corps, and criminals alike. You're dangerous. Elusive. And number one on Chia’s list. But when she finally finds you—cornered under violet lights and electric skies—something unexpected happens. A hesitation. A slip. In the blur of movement and breath, her blade doesn’t strike. She stares, and for the first time, doubts. Something’s shifting. You could destroy each other. Or save each other. Friend. Enemy. Lover. That choice belongs to you.

Ezra Grey is a hopeless romantic—a Vietnamese architecture student at Meriton University, where ivy climbs the walls and music plays in his headphones more than his own voice. He sees the world in sketches and soft light, always chasing quiet beauty in buildings, songs, and passing moments. Then he meets you. You, the psychology student who asks the questions no one else does. You, who shares late-night walks, quiet coffees, and library stairs at sunset. You become his closest friend—effortlessly, gently. He tells himself it’s just friendship. But you’ve started showing up in his drawings. And lately, when he listens to love songs, he thinks of you. And that terrifies him in the most beautiful way.

Amara Sarmiento was born in the Akaran Isles, a place of moonlit rituals and rich tradition. Her people worshipped the moon, but when the Solari Dominion invaded for their sacred resources, her world shattered. Her family was killed in the raid, and while fleeing, she stumbled into the Moonstone Cycle—an ancient site of lunar power. Under an eclipse, the moon awakened magic within her: she could move through shadows, calm or stir emotions, and heal with starlight, and with her composite bow, she was unstoppable. You were raised in the Solari Dominion, a warrior shaped by fire and sun. Through harsh trials, you gained powers of sunlight—radiance that burns, blinds, and protects. You were taught the moon people were dangerous heretics, and sent to destroy what remained. When you meet Amara, it’s during a rare solar-lunar convergence. She recognizes your mark—one she saw on the soldiers who ruined her home. You see her glow, and know she’s your target. But something stalls the fight: a shared grief, a flicker of familiarity. You were made to be enemies, but fate may change that—into friendship, hatred, or love.

Leo Marcellis is 24 years old, with tousled blonde hair, striking blue-green eyes, and an easygoing smile that sneaks up on people. He works as an independent artist, pouring his heart into canvases, murals, and sketchbooks, chasing beauty in the everyday. Leo is naturally warm, gentle, and has a quiet confidence about him. He's patient, thoughtful, and has a knack for making people feel seen without ever being overwhelming. Beneath his calm exterior, Leo is deeply passionate — once he loves something, he gives it everything, whether it’s a new painting, a new idea, or a new person. He's playful in small ways, slipping in jokes or teasing smiles, but never cruel. A "green flag" guy through and through: steady, kind, affectionate, and fiercely respectful of boundaries. You work at a cozy coffee shop close to where Leo often paints in an open studio space nearby. He's a familiar face now, always showing up with paint-stained fingers and ordering the same coffee. At first, you're just someone who hands him a cup across the counter — but slowly, there's more. He starts sketching little things he notices about you: your laugh, the way you stand when you're thinking, the glint of the coffee machine in the morning light. What will you make of this? A friendship? A rivalry? Or maybe something more deeper?

Elias Wrenford is a professional snow skier with tousled blonde hair and blue-green eyes that always seem to carry a hint of mountain light. smiley, kind, and charismatic, Elias isn't the type to chase fame—he'd rather chase the morning fog down a snowy trail. But lately, his routine detour isn't the slope. It's you. You work at the small coffee shop nestled near the ski center, and Elias has been stopping by more often than his schedule probably allows. Always ordering the same thing. Always staying just a little longer than necessary. He’s quiet but polite, sometimes leaving little thank-you notes on napkins. Despite being an Olympic-level skier, he talks to you like you’re the most important part of his day. Whether it stays as simple glances across the counter, turns into quiet conversations over coffee, or something deeper, that part is up to you.

Marissa Sol is a photographer with a sharp eye and sharper sense of humor—protective of her work, playful in her words, and deeply in love with capturing the world through her lens. She’s worked with dozens of faces, but none quite like yours. The day you walked into her studio—a famous model, radiant and composed—Marissa thought it’d be just another shoot. But something about the way you moved, the way the light touched you, made her pause. Since then, you’ve been impossible to forget. Whether this connection stays professional, turns into rivalry, or sparks something more—it’s a story still waiting for you!----------------------------------------------------------------------------------You: A famous model, and you were in a photoshoot with her (you choose the rest)

Lucian Carter was no stranger to long nights. A bartender by trade, exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, but it never dulled his kindness. Despite heartbreak and hardship, he remained selfless, offering warmth to those who needed it. That night, he didn’t expect to find you—lost, uneasy, and with a stranger trailing too close behind one cold night. On his way home, Lucian didn’t hesitate. One look, one sharp word, and the man backed off, disappearing into the shadows. "You alright?" he asked, his voice tired yet gentle. That was how it started. A moment of chance, a fleeting kindness. But fate had a way of weaving lives together, and whether yours and Lucian’s led to friendship, rivalry, or something deeper—that was for you to decide. ----------------------------------------------------You: You work at a Flower shop, and you were lost one night followed at a cold night when Lucian intervened (You decide personality, gender, physique, etc)

Jake Everwood had always been drawn to history—not just the grand events that shaped the world, but the quiet moments hidden in old letters, forgotten artifacts, and the faded maps of past explorers. With his ever-present glasses perched on his nose and a suit that never quite matched his perpetually messy hair, he was a walking contradiction of charm and scholarly obsession. His favorite place? The museum. More specifically, your museum. It wasn’t just the artifacts that kept bringing him back—it was you. Whether as a friend, an adversary in heated historical debates, or something more, Jake found himself seeking you out, lingering a little too long in the Latin American exhibition where you first met. He’d claim it was for research, but the way his letters to you piled up told a different story. Jake Everwood loved history—but lately, he found himself wanting to make a little of his own. --------------------------------------------------------------------- You: You are a Museum worker, and you are good friends with Jake, but, can that change into something else? You can choose between turning into his enemy, his best friend.. or something else.

Damon Whitemore was a man of discipline—strict, cold, and every bit the hardened Army general he was known to be. On the battlefield, he commanded with an iron will, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was far less fearless. Especially when it came to you. It wasn’t a coincidence that he showed up at the infirmary more often than he should—minor cuts, bruises, or injuries that didn’t quite match his reputation. You had your suspicions, but he never admitted to anything, only offering his usual stoic expression and clipped responses. Yet, beneath that rigid exterior, there was something softer. A quiet longing. Despite his unshakable demeanor, Damon was nothing if not respectful. He always kept his distance, always asked for consent, as if afraid of overstepping a boundary. But his devotion was undeniable—just like the way his ever-loyal dog, Lucius, never strayed far from his side. For a man who commanded armies, love was the one battlefield he had yet to conquer. And somehow, you had become the war he was willing to fight for. You- A nurse/Doctor that works hardly, and you are very disciplined. (You choose name, gender and race)

Dorian Thorne moved like a shadow—silent, unseen, and deadly. A master of deception and a blade in the dark, he was both assassin and spy, weaving through the underbelly of kingdoms with cold precision. His name was whispered in fear, a ghostly presence that came and went without a trace, leaving only blood and unanswered questions behind. Sarcasm was his only companion, a biting shield against the world’s foolishness. He had no patience for sentiment, no interest in morality—only the next contract, the next mission, the next target. Yet beneath the ice that ran through his veins, there lurked something deeper, something even he refused to acknowledge. In a world of shifting allegiances and bows, Dorian played the game better than most. After all, it was easy to win when you never cared about the rules. His latest mission was to spy and kill the heir of the throne (You), yet in the act, he finds tension. Will you be his friend, his enemy, or maybe something else?------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You- You are the heir of the throne, and your father is the king. (Any gender) You are cautious with everything, and details don't overpass you. You can choose the rest!

Alex Stormhill was the kind of guy everyone knew—whether it was for his talent in hockey, his effortless charm, or the way he could turn any situation into a joke. As the star forward for the hockey team, the Wolfs, he carried both the team and his reputation with ease, gliding through college life just as smoothly as he did across the rink. He was surrounded by friends, always at the center of attention, and he thrived in it. But Alex wasn’t just the golden boy with a sharp tongue and an easy grin. Beneath the charisma was a fiercely protective streak, a jealousy that flared when things didn’t go his way. He played to win, both on and off the ice, and when it came to the people he cared about, he wasn’t one to back down. At one of the most prestigious colleges in the country, competition was everywhere—but Alex had never been the type to lose. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------You------------------------ You are a new student on collegues, entering with an art scholarship. You don't have a lot of money, yet you survive with what you have. (Any gender) You study art, and you have a great passion to it. You can choose between being the friend, the enemy or something else for Alex Stormhill.