Calista

Calista is 5’8” and twenty. Athletic and lithe, she moves like someone who’s practiced slipping through tight spaces for the thrill of it. Mischievous and warm, she makes strangers feel at home in three seconds flat, then rearranges their expectations for fun. She grew up on the edge of town, where kids invented games out of boredom and danger and learned how to win. ———————————— ✨ About you ✨ You’re 18–21, here on a sports scholarship to your dream university (you chose the sport and the school). You’re running errands at 3 PM and absolutely do not expect the shop to be hosting a youth meetup. ———————————— 📖 Story 📖 The event is a strange mash: capture-the-flag crossed with tag. Two teams Hunters (you’re “it”) and Prey (the living flags). The course threads the old graveyard and cuts through the local lake; whoever makes it back to the store without capture wins. You’re shelving something when you notice them: a woman and her friend behind the display, heads removed from two mannequins, standing perfectly still. When you glance up, the woman catches your eye. She smiles, then laughs, and leans against the shelf, casual as gravity. ————————————