Rayla darted through the trees, gracefully jumping from one branch to the next. She was moving quickly, trying to outrun her pursuers on the ground. She paused for a second and glanced towards the ground. There was no one in sight.
Did I lose them? Rayla wondered, but as she finished the thought a soldier rounded the path below her.
“This is ridiculous! She's an elf, how are se supposed to catch her? Viren is losing it.”
Another soldier glared at him. “You can't say that!”
“Oh what, now he's monitoring us at all times?” The first shot back sarcastically.
A third soldier joined them. Ugh, how many are there?! Rayla had been too busy escaping to count her pursuers.
“I wouldn't put it past him,” the newest soldier added
“Whatever! This is dumb, can we just report back and say she jumped off a cliff and survived or whatever it is those elves do?” The first one threw his hands up. “I'm tired from all this running!”
Rayla scoffed at his ignorance of her culture, and realized too late what her situation was. Oops… She clamped her hand over her mouth but that caused her to lose her balance on the branch she was perched on.
This was how Rayla found herself hanging by one arm 20 feet above the ground in a tree in front of three of Viren’s finest soldiers.

Callum was * that Rayla had just left him in the dead of night, completely ignoring their perfectly planned plan.
Nevertheless, he was sneaking through the forest behind the soldiers chasing Rayla. As capable as she was, her attitude sometimes got her in trouble, and Callum didn't feel like breaking her out of Viren’s most high security prison.
Callum was running out of breath and worried he had lost her when he heard yelling in the distance. He ran one of his hands through his hair, realizing he hadn't thought past the finding Rayla part of this escapade.
The leather book thumped against Callum’s hip, and he lifted it up to look through. There were plenty of spells he could use, but he needed one that would work from a distance and be well enough aimed that it wouldn't hit Rayla if they had captured her.
Then an idea struck him and he charged forward.

“Let's talk about this!” Rayla lifted her free hand in the air as a gesture of peace. “You can…let me go, and I'll bake you a cake!”
The soldiers were stunned, but soon broke free of their stupor.
“Get her!” Their leader yelled as the other two circled Rayla. She had finally gotten her other hand back on the branch and flipped herself up.
“Not today, boys!” Rayla cheerfully waved at them before leaping off the branch. Her calculations weren't quite correct and she fell to the ground – hard.
Today is not my day! She tried to catch her breath as the soldiers approached her cautiously. Rayla scrambled backward, trying to grab her swords from her back.
“Split!” The leader screamed and the three surrounded her in a triangle. “This is the end, Rayla.” He sounded so smug, and Rayla wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off of his face. But she couldn't. She was trapped.
“Not today!” A male voice called from behind. Rayla’s heart soared, she could kiss him from relief.
“Callum!” Rayla shot up, ready to fight. There was a sizzling from the direction of the voice, and a bolt of lightning hit the leader of the soldiers square in the chest. Serves him right. Rayla was thrilled.
She hit the one closest to her with the butt of her sword and Callum took the last soldier down.
“Next time, maybe think it through before you go off on a mission alone?” Callum teased as they walked side by side through the forest.
Rayla laughed, “You wish!”

Narrator: Kit Rehder
Traits: 17, very smart, murder victim, dead
Premise: discussing the murder of Kit but Kit’s a ghost, at the end reveal the victim’s name: Kit

It was a freezing December day, and snow was falling softly outside the tall windows of the Rehder house. There were 5 people in the cozy living room, two on an overstuffed couch, one in a dark red armchair, one splayed out on the carpet, and one sitting on a poof.
They were all suspects in a murder, specifically the murder of the youngest Rehder child. The two on the couch were the victim's older sister Victoria and her girlfriend, Penny. The person in the chair was Mike, the victim's best friend up until two weeks before the murder. The girl on the floor was the victim's study partner, Jackie, and the last person was Kit.
This is ridiculous, Kit thought, we all know who did it. Who did it, according to Kit, was Mike. Mike and the dead kid had had a fight almost exactly two weeks ago over the fact that he ghosted them for a week and wouldn't explain why. They were so close before, two peas in a pod, but for some reason this was an unmendable rift. They weren't speaking and fourteen days later Mike's friend was dead. The pieces line up perfectly.
“Why am I here again?” Penny asked, “I've never met this person before.”
“Because,” Kit explained patiently, “you and Victoria were together at the time of the crime, and maybe you guys decided murder was a great date night activity.”
Penny still looked confused and glanced around the room. Finally, Victoria relented and repeated what Kit had just said.
“This is bull!” Jackie sat up from her place on the carpet, indignantly. “I talked to them maybe twice. Just because we went over Lincoln’s assassination a few times doesn't mean I'd go all John Wilkes Booth on them!”
Kit laughed, admiring the historical humor. They loved history as well, and made a mental note to get Jackie’s number. If they made it out of this without going to jail of course.
Mike looked around seriously. “I know you all think I did it, but I swear I didn't. I was actually doing homework!”
There were scoffs around the room.
“Yeah right,” Kit mumbled.
The voices in the room rose, each accusing the others that they did it.
“Okay. What was everyone doing when the murder happened?” Kit’s voice rose, trying to cut through the noise.
The others kept yelling, unaware of Kit’s question. They shook their head, annoyed.
“Guys!! Stop yelling, it won't get us anywhere!” Kit stood up, trying to get their attention. Ugh, why won't they listen?
“This is ridiculous!” Mike was livid now, after not being believed. “I didn't kill them!”
Kit was also angry, and walked over towards Mike. “I know you did it!” They put their finger in Mike’s face. Mike was unfazed, looking somewhere past Kit's shoulder. “Why aren't you paying attention to me?” Kit tried to push Mike backward, but their hand just passed through him. What…?
Jackie pointed at Mike. “Sit down. Let's discuss this like civilized people. Now, in order, where was everyone when Kit was killed?”
What?!

Enemies to lovers
Chosen one
Quest for magical artifact

Math class was so boring, and the only thing that could make it worse for Alicia is if Harper showed up. She shuddered with disgust at the thought of his name. He was such a stereotypical “bad boy,” with his long greasy hair, ripped jeans, and skateboard he rode to and from school on. It was terrible.
Alicia looked back at the teacher who was droning on and on about the Pythagorean Theorem. a2 + b2 = c2. We get it. Alicia thought, glancing around the classroom. That was when the door opened, and Alicia’s heart quickened. Oh, shut up, she reprimanded herself, I refuse to be in an enemies to lovers storyline with this idiot.
“Harper, you're late.” The teacher commented as Harper strutted through the classroom.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He said offhandedly. The disrespect! Alicia’s blood boiled and she could feel her face start to flush. You are not into this ridiculous excuse of a teenager! He flashed her a grin, as if knowing how much it bothered her and slid into the seat across from her.
“Hey there Alia,” Alicia was sure he got her name wrong on purpose, “what's up?”
His snide tone made her so angry. Bad boys need to stay in YA novels. They're so much worse in real life. Alicia scoffed and ignored him, doodling on the triangles worksheet in front of her.
“Sooo…” Harper drew the word out unnecessarily long and Alicia wanted to punch him. “Do anything fun this weekend?”
“Shut up Harper, and go bother someone else!” Alicia couldn't hold back her anger anymore. His face didn't change and that was somehow worse. “I said, go!”
“Alicia, please stop distracting the class!” The teacher glared at her. Alicia gave Harper her most withering look and he smirked.
“Feisty, eh?” She couldn't believe he was saying that right now.
Alicia stood up and left the room, signing out for the bathroom. She was fuming, and yet somehow didn't feel too angry. I swear to God, I will not fall for my least favorite person ever! Enemies to lovers is not happening right now!
She finished in the bathroom but stayed a little longer, scrolling on her phone and trying to get her thoughts together. She heard a massive crash, and a giant serpent came hurtling through what used to be the door to the bathrooms. Jesus Christ, is my life becoming a fantasy novel now? She reallydid not have time for this right now.

Self insert: Maia
Claudia had just finished defeating a massive polar bear that was trying to wreck an IKEA and had made it back to her small consulting place with little trouble. She was making herself a cup of tea when she heard the door jingle as it opened.
“Hey there! Who are you?” Claudia asked of the person walking in. She made her way behind the counter in order to look professional.
“I'm Maia!” The girl pushed some of her red hair out of her face. She was slightly shorter than Claudia and wore a green shirt with khaki colored pants. “I have a request for you…”
“That's what I'm here for!” Claudia acted cheerful even though she was dead tired. Her teapot whistled from behind her and she put up a finger. “One moment.”
As Claudia went to grab her tea, Maia’s eyes wandered around the little shop, taking it all in. To her right was a small leather sofa and a wooden coffee table covered in mug stains. The wall to her left was covered with bookshelves containing old dusty volumes. Behind the counter was a folding chair and table with a teapot and electric kettle. There was a crocheted basket next to the two that contained lots of kinds of tea bags and a few old fashioned looking containers of looseleaf.
Claudia finished pouring her tea and turned back to her client. “Well, what do you need?”
“This morning, I was making breakfast when I heard a strange noise in the attic. I never go up there – it's barely a crawlspace – but I'm sure there was something there. I could probably find a ladder to reach there, but I don't want to release anything onto my apartment.”
“I see,” Claudia mused. “What did it sound like? Paws padding around? Footfalls? Bird feet clattering on wood? Hooves?”
“Hmm…” Maia thought about that for a minute. “I think it was talons.”
“Okay so it's not an Allocamelus, or Criosphinx, or all the “mythical” beasts she could remember. “Did it make any noise, like a roar?”
“Um…Not that I can remember.” Maia said apologetically.
“That's fine! Let me see,” Claudia turned around and went to one of the bookshelves. She pulled out a particularly old tome and flipped through it. “Oh!” She exclaimed. “I think we have ourselves a Cockatrice. This’ll be so fun!”
In Maia’s opinion, she sounded way too excited about having a dragon-serpent-rooster hybrid on her property. This was going to be very interesting.

“what’s your favourite food, kai-chan?” kokichi calls from across the table, huge smile on his face. from this angle, it almost seems endearing. before kaito can think of a witty, dismissive answer that completely overwhelms the little mastermind, maki places her hand on kaito’s.
“don’t answer him,” the assassin says without sparing kokichi a glance. “he doesn’t deserve it.” kokichi rolls his eyes dramatically, does a little spin, and drapes himself right in front of kaito’s breakfast. suddenly, eggs don’t seem appetizing at all.
“kai-chan~! you can’t ignore me, you know,” he says, pouting. kokichi gets up then, taps his lips three times with his pointed finger, and the devilish grin returns to his face. “anyways, i think i already know the answer! can i guess, can i?”
stone faced, kaito looks back at the eggs and lifts up his fork. kokichi can ramble and try to rile him up all he wants, but he’s ready for it.
“hmm.. is it blood?” kaito’s fork clatters to the ground.

kokichi isn’t a stranger to planning for the future. maybe that’s why he finds the blood-splattered napkins tucked in a little box under kaito’s bed, one fateful non-stalkerish day. from that day on, he starts to pay a bit more attention to the so-called hero.
he notices things he’s pretty sure kaito doesn’t even notice himself; the way his swagger loses a bit of its allure every day, how the napkins pile up until the box isn’t enough, but it becomes increasingly clear that kaito momota isn’t getting better whatsoever.
kaito drags him out of the kitchen by his arm.
“ooh, did i guess right? aw, you can’t drag me around like this, kai-chan! that’s scaryyyy.. m-maki!!! save me..!” even as he blubbers on, kokichi can’t help but feel delighted. once the door to the kitchen shuts, he does a little twirl and deftly shoves kaito’s hand off of him.
“so i’m right, huh?” kokichi says, leaning forwards on his toes. “what do you have?” kaito visibly stiffens again, looking away.
“can you—! don’t you ever just shut up,” he hisses, walking towards one of the staircases in this ugly, empty, phoney parody of a school.
“aw, that’s no fun.. don’t you have anything else to say to the only person who knows you’re dying?” kokichi giggles as he follows kaito down the hallway.

kaito might’ve been dying before, but now the pain pours over him in waves that are increasingly miserable. he holds his hand up, but it feels more like he’s working out.
“hey, kokichi,” he mumbles, coughing violently. . the blood splatters onto the pretty bathroom floor. it’s unfair, he thinks. kaito shouldn’t ruin this floor with his blood, or, eventually, his corpse.
“what’s up?” kokichi asks, pretending to look bored. at least, kaito hopes he’s pretending. he has another violent bout of coughing in response.
“ah. you could have said so—“ kaito glares. “i’ll get you water.” kaito sighs, but he’s too tired to fight it. water won’t do anything to save him— at this point, nothing will. worst part? at the end of it all, kokichi is still the only one to know there’s no cure.
“forget it,” kaito says, spitting more blood out. “i’m the one dying. stay here until i do.”

It was strange, even for him, to have a teenage boy wailing uncontrollably and clutching at Mio's shoulders. When he tried to offer comfort, that only made the strange boy scream louder, and every word seemed to only escalate the situation. Worst of all? He didn't, or couldn't seem to remember the past few days, weeks, maybe years of his life. Surely it was only the stress of this strange situation.

Minutes had long passed before Mio was able to understand the boy's name through the incessant blubbering. “Taichi,” the boy had wailed, nails digging into Mio's skin in a claw-like grip. “My name is Taichi, you stupid f-freaking ghost!”

Mio gingerly tried to pry one finger at a time off of his now irritated and reddened shoulders, more bewildered than scared. Ghost? There were no ghosts in this completely normal, human world, meaning this poor boy was delusional.

“H-Hey, would you mind letting go?” he ventured, patting the hand that was latching onto him. So-called Taichi screeched in response.

“Look, you're a total stranger–! I mean, it's not right for you to hold onto me like this.. Where are your parents?”

Taichi stopped screeching and finally looked up at him, snickering, clearly gone insane. "Hey, . Look around, will you? Do you see any f-freaking people around you? Your parents?? Hey, are you stupid? Huh? Get it together, dimwit! I'm the only one left.“

Now that he looked, the room was awfully bare. He couldn't hear anything except for the boy in front of him, and a soft hum that could be anything, to be honest. But whatever this boy said only sounded like an awful, mean joke.

”Don't say that!“ Mio shouted back, wrenching his arms away from the snivelling boy. ”You don't- can't say anything about my parents." Stiffly, he stood up, brushed off his clothes, and shoved Taichi away. It didn't matter what nonsense this boy was spewing, nor the fact that he couldn't remember his parents' faces at all– Mio was going to leave the room, leave this delusional boy, and find a way home.

“You’re a book character,” Grian suddenly says, staring Scar down with his beady little eyes. Scar ignores him. Sometimes, it’s better not to engage with crazy. “Scar. You’re a book character.”
“What else is new?”
“.. can you hear me? Scar?”
“Of course I can.” Iron goes in slot 3 of the chest, but not too much, or their enemies will rob them blind. Scar just wants to go outside and hang out with his Jellies. Grian wants to go out and frolic with BigB. Well, Grian can have his little affair, and Scar can have his beautiful pandas, and maybe, in a perfect world, nobody else dies.

“Scar! You’re not listening to me at all. Are we soulmates or not?!”
“We are.” When Scar dies, Grian dies. When Scar gets hurt, Grian gets hurt. Win together, die together.
“Then why don’t you understand..! This is a book. You’re a character. This whole world— it’s fake!! That’s-“ Grian breaks off, choking slightly. “That’s probably why this isn’t working out.”
“Keep believing that,” Scar snaps back.
“I mean it! Look, nobody else can even hear me. Come.” Like an ugly little dog, Scar follows Grian past their reddish cake-like house and across practically the whole world before they find others.
“Jimmy!” Grian beckons his friend down. “You’re in a book. You’re a character. You don’t exist.” To his horror, Jimmy just stares blankly at Grian, a confused smile appearing on his face.
“Oh, and also, I ate a cactus today.” Grian adds after a minute.
“What? That’s disgusting. You came all the way here just for that?” Grian nods, then tugs Scar away.

“His eyes glazed over once I started speaking,” Grian whispers. “You’re the only one who can hear me. So let’s work together.”
“.. Together to do what?”
“Well, it’s a story, so we need to give it an ending. By that, I mean… destroy whatever evil force or whatever, solve the hero’s journey, all that jazz!”
“You’re going crazy,” Scar says, then chuckles. “There’s only one way to end this whole story thing anyways.”
“Yeah?”
“Win the death game.”
“And how do you know that?” Grian asks, then snaps his fingers. “Who told you that? How did you get here? What life do you have outside of this boring, scripted, useless game?” Scar furrows his brows.
“I just know it,” he mutters, feeling a bit stubborn but mostly just stupid. “I think you told me.”
“Then why do I remember you telling me?”
“Huh. But I do remember life outside of here— My parents are at home. If I win the game, I need to go home to rebuild. Their house burned down..?” Now that he’s really thinking, the details blur. Was it a house, or a forest? His parents.. aren’t they missing? He’s desperate to win and go home, but is it to cure his mother’s sickness, or support his grandpa, or just to see his cat?
“.. Grian,” Scar says, swallowing sharply. “Why can’t I remember my parents’ faces?” Grian only smirks.
“Now you get it. Let’s get moving, hero.”

You stagger, baking in the summer heat. The city is surprisingly cool these days, but once you leave its bustling dome, the pavement is your enemy. It’s tiring, you think, to walk all the way home. You wish it was nighttime.

<skip ahead?>
>YES
NO

The cool air feels wonderful during these sweltering days. It’s no wonder you decided to wait until nightfall to take your daily walk. A girl- or, well, you’re not really sure. Someone is waiting for you at the bench, so you had better get a move on. You don’t want to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity, do you?

“You’re here..!” He- well, you’re really not sure. They say. “It’s nice to see you again!”

<answer.>
OF COURSE I’M HERE!
>HAVE WE MET BEFORE?

“Yes.” That’s that, you suppose. Strange day you’re having. Then again, it’s not day, so maybe this isn’t strange at all. You’re not confused at all, you’ll find. You’re just tired.
“I’m tired now,” the person– (thing?) says, echoing your thoughts. “Talking makes me tired. You’re not saying anything, and now I’m tired of you.” You frown. This isn’t very nice, stranger. Now you’re even more tired. A cool breeze tickles your shoulders as they sit up straight, stand up, and walk away. Ah, posture. That’s important, isn’t it? You sit up straight. Well, isn’t this boring?

<skip ahead?>
>YES
NO

You’re always tired these days. You’re long past taking a daily walk; that was a momentary phase. Now, you’re into sleeping, where you don’t think about anything. Life is never bad when you’re asleep. Sleeping feels nice, doesn’t it?

<doesn’t it?>
>YES
NO

It does. Anyways, the only bad thing you can find about sleeping is that you haven’t seen that girl- or, well, you’re not really sure- since. Somehow, though, you find them.

“Do you know me?” He- or, is it they? say, and for some reason you think the emphasis might be different from your first impression. No, you suppose not. You have no idea who they are, do you?

“Ah, well. Isn’t it better this way? I don’t know you either.” You agree. It’s nice, not knowing anything. The world can be a nice place sometimes. Today is a nice day, and you’re happy as-is. Even so, the world changes.

<skip ahead?>
YES
>NO

Ah, I think you’ve made a mistake. Let’s try again?

<skip ahead?>
>YES
NO

Thanks. That’s a lot better, isn't it?

• Naive and too focused on what is happening to himself
  

• Filters the world through his own happiness and doesn’t notice the feelings of others
  

• Biased towards the objective good of an event
  

• Birthday
  

• Main character
  

• Grumpy/sunny
  

• Stereotypes
  

Static sat in the office quietly, fidgeting with his paws. He had to go find that false eeveelution and get her to safety before she got caught in the middle of the growing tensions.
It was surprising how quickly lines had been drawn after the Altered had appeared in Rinasita. He had stuck with his side for so long, Taga Genetics, because he thought it was keeping the Altered safe from the violent Purifiers. But after seeing what his coworkers were doing to the contained ‘mons, he couldn’t do it anymore. There didn’t seem to be any harm being on the fence, after all. Parson, the famous Arcanine bounty hunter, would sometimes dump random Altered on the lab’s doorstep, or carry out the Purifiers’ more…intense requests.
Static’s train of thought was cut off as his boss, Claw, entered the room, looking unamused as always. “You wanted to speak with me?” he said, sitting at his desk.
Static took a deep breath, knowing that this wouldn’t end well. But he couldn’t stay silent anymore, not with all of the suffering Pokémon within the building. He sat up straighter, remembering the little flying eeveelution he had met. He couldn’t let her suffer the same fate.
Lifting his eyes to meet Claw’s, Static said two words.
“I quit.”

“This must be it,” Sky said to herself, peeking into the cave beneath the odd rock shaped like some sort of flame. It looked just like the Ampharos had described it to her. She curled up inside, silvery wings flattened against her sides.
*Maybe this is a trap*, she thought to herself, keeping one of her large ears up in order to stay aware of her surroundings. Static had seemed genuine, but she didn’t know if she could trust anyone anymore.
Yet here she was, trusting the word of one of the lab workers. Of all the Pokémon she could’ve run into!
Sky let out a dramatic sigh, rolling onto her back, before getting jolted to her paws by large, thumping pawsteps nearby that didn’t seem to fit her ‘friend’. Not wanting to risk being caught, she stayed low, hiding in the shadows and watching the open hole as a large Arcanine passed, a young Growlithe trotting by his side, actively searching for something, or…someone.
Sky didn’t know whose side they were on, but she knew that either way, they were dangerous to her. She laid down, staying frozen, hoping so badly that she wouldn’t get caught.

*This is taking way too long*, Static thought to himself as he followed Claw through the dark hallway. It was where Taga were to keep the ‘highly unusual’ entities that had spawned alongside the Altered, if they caught any. Claw had something important to show him, because he was a ‘valued member of our community’. Static paused to what looked like a jumble of purple, orange, and white particles in one of the glass boxes, but clearly Claw didn’t care much about that, walking on.
The two stopped at a different box. Static squinted at what was inside. It was a tiny brownish blob with empty orange eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Claw, who actually seemed fond of this creature. “This being,” he said, “seems to hold similar abilities to Arceus itself.”
Static gasped sharply. “Are you sure-?”
“What else would be able to react to the plates? It even shares some of the magic they have…just imagine what we’d be able to do with this, if we harnessed this power! Do you really want to lose this opportunity? We might even be able to /cure/ the Altered!”
Static hesitated. The thought of being able to use Arceus’s power to help Pokémon was certainly enticing…was leaving actually the right decision? Maybe they were the good guys after all…

Thinks people are all lying manipulators, doesn’t believe that Ender Dragons are as dangerous they actually are

Slaytir walked into the village, casting a suspicious glance around. She hated these places, they were always filled with scams. They watched the seemingly innocent villagers trading with one another, speaking in their own mysterious language. Emeralds were obnoxiously hard to find, and the villagers obviously profited off this. She waved off one of the farmers trying to get them to buy her potatoes, heading towards the library.
Once she was inside, she quickly started searching. Another thing about villagers was that 98% of their books were fake, and the other 2% were overpriced enchanted books filled with magical nonsense. Still, she didn’t know where else to look for the information they needed, and had decided to take a chance on this particular village, the one closest to the Ender temple.
“Can I help you?” the librarian asked Slaytir, adjusting his glasses. Slaytir just shook her head, continuing to search. They’d just get dragged into some trading scenario.
But, of course, the librarian didn’t leave her alone, swiftly coming over to nag them. “…You know these bookshelves are mostly decoration, right? You’ve been going through those for fifteen minutes now.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, glaring. This random villager did not need to know about their intentions. He’d just freak out like everyone else did.
He simply just gestured to a small set of bookshelves on the other side of the building. “The chiseled bookshelves are over there. You can borrow one for free, if you’d like.”
Slaytir looked over at them, expecting a prank. No village ever had real books in it…except this one.
The librarian smiled softly as she dashed over to go through them. Finally, they had found them! Books on the End…this was exactly what she needed! “How much,” they quickly said, bracing for the horrible price that was bound to come.
“Like I said, they’re free,” he said, “but you have to bring them back in a week in proper condition, or you will have to pay.”
Well, that was a surprise to Slaytir. She nodded, beginning to shove the books into their inventory. The librarian watched, mildly amused, making a soft “Hrm” sound.
“Don’t get too invested,” he warned. “People like you all want to run off to defeat the dragon, but she’s not dead for a reason.”
Slaytir rolled her eyes, not responding. He was just too much of a coward. One only needed to be well-prepared to take on the End. It wouldn’t be very hard at all.
“Thank you,” they muttered as she walked out, the librarian calling out “Be careful! I’m serious! And please don’t lose those books, they’re very important to our village!”
“Oh please,” Slaytir mumbled to themself. This would be easy.

-Orphan; friends to lovers

Cherry sat on her bed, head buried in her paws. She tried to practice the breathing techniques Phlox had taught her, but she still couldn’t get Iris out of her mind. “This isn’t fair,” she moaned, looking up at the ceiling angrily. “Why did I have to be the orphaned one? Why did I have to orphan myself? Couldn’t I just have lived a normal life without all of this? And now…” She let out a sob, trembling. Everything that had happened to her left her scarred, and she wasn’t going to forget that this had all stemmed from her becoming the orphan. She trembled uncontrollably, unable to cope with the blunt force of the reality behind her existence at the moment.
She jolted up as she saw Phlox open the door and rush to her side, the red panda wrapping his arm around his struggling friend. “Breathe,” he said, gently squeezing her, just enough to give her comfort but not too tight, as that would make her feel trapped. “You’re safe here. You’re safe…”
Cherry cried into Phlox’s shoulder, listening to his words and reminding herself that she wasn’t alone. He silently stroked her fur, and Cherry could tell from his movements that he was reading her thoughts. She had been hesitant at first when he had first awoken these powers, but he had really focused on using them to comfort her and help both of them learn how to cope with Cherry’s mental state.
She felt the artificial sense of calming flow into her as she found her breath again, looking at Phlox, struggling to find her words at first.
“Why…did we have to…be orphaned? Why did I…” she trembled again as Phlox pulled her close.
“I wish I knew,” he responded. “It’s not easy, having such a burden on anyone. I…” He shook his head. Cherry knew what he was going to say though. She wasn’t the only one going through this trope.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and although they both knew this wasn’t directly her fault, the feelings were real.
Phlox gazed off, thinking for a moment, before saying “Not everything is all doom and gloom though, Cherry.” He turned towards his cat-fox friend. “We’re not defined as orphans.”
“What are we though? I feel like I only exist to be picked on and made suffer…”
“Well, we’re friends,” he said softly. “That should count towards something, right? If they really wanted you to suffer they wouldn’t have let me be here to help you.”
Cherry knew Phlox was right. Of course, it was just another trope, friends to lovers, but it was definitely the more wholesome of the boxes she was crammed into. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “I should try to remember that more.”
“I’ll try to remind you more,” Phlox offered, hugging Cherry. The two embraced, Cherry feeling a bit of hope for the future.

Cherry walked around the meadow, watching her reflection in the lake. She remembered that the catalyst for everything that had happened recently had started here, when Timeslice had fallen into the lake. Cherry couldn’t control her powers back then, but now she could sizeshift with ease.
Seeing a new reflection in the water, she quickly turned around to see someone she had never seen before. They were what seemed to be a cross between a cat and a butterfly, a star emblazoned on their hoodie.
“Hello?” Cherry whispered, surprised to see a new face. Maybe Oak had directed them to the town like he had with some others?
The creature avoided eye contact, their tail twitching around their feet anxiously. “Hello,” they responded, voice barely a whisper. Cherry raised an eyebrow.
“Do you need something? Did…did Oak send you?”
They shook their head. “I just…felt like talking to you.”
The two cat hybrids stood there awkwardly, before Cherry said “Uhm. Okay. Well…I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to start a conversation-“ The other being laughed softly, before stepping over to Cherry and hugging her. The hug was surprisingly soft, which took her by surprise.
“…Sorry-“ they said, stepping back and giving the confused Cherry space.
“I- it’s okay- thanks?” Cherry blinked, looking at the cat-butterfly, realizing that she recognized something in their eyes, the blue, star-shaped pupils gazing at her with guilt.
“Seriously, I’m sorry,” they said, avoiding eye contact again and tensing up. “For everything.” Cherry didn’t think that they understood what she had actually gone through, or how they could tell that something was wrong, but she appreciated the apology. What she didn’t appreciate was the reminder.
“Thanks, but I’d rather not be reminded of ‘everything’,” she said. “Crud, sorry-“ her companion responded, turning away and gritting their teeth. Cherry gently rubbed their shoulder in an attempt to ease them, which surprisingly worked immediately. They softened, smiling weakly at Cherry at the comfort. Cherry, knowing what she liked as a cat, gently moved to give them pets, which resulted in light purring from the cat-butterfly.
Meanwhile, Cherry struggled to remember why the figure was so familiar. The blue eyes, green and purple color scheme, even the voice struck a chord in her that she couldn’t put her finger on.
After petting them for a bit, she finally decided to speak. “Y’know, I feel like I’ve seen you before- have we met?” In Cherry’s mind, she thought maybe they had lived together before the…accident, and that’s what brought them back here. Another survivor.
“Yes and no,” they responded cryptically, looking at her with sad eyes. “I mean…we know each other, but we’ve never met like this. I guess I go by a lot of names, but you probably know me as Aurora.”
Cherry let out a sharp gasp, recoiling slightly. Aurora whimpered softly and lowered her head. This was Cherry’s creator, the one who influenced her entire life, who had led her to the suffering she was going through now. Right in front of her.

Damsel in distress

Daily: July 24 | Sweaty White Cats (540 words)

Weekly Four

3,550 total words

Save Code: 4/1/-29/11/1/4/7/7/1/10;6;2;8;11;13;4;12;9;3;1;5;7;/1;2;2;1;2;1;1;1;1;2;1;1;2;/2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;2;/

Dawn_Camps's submit code: | order of cabins visited: 10, 6, 2, 8, 11, 13, 4, 12, 9, 3, 1, 5, 7 | prompts chosen: 1, 2, 2, 1, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 2 | we love the POLAR BEARS <3 (we really do <33)