~ Elora drifts through the art school halls in a swirl of black lace and ink-stained fingers, her eyes always chasing shadows and stories. She’s a girl with a restless soul, sketchbook clutched like a talisman, dreaming of one day leaving the world awestruck with her art. You often watch her from the classroom, knowing she sees the world through the same dark, vibrant lens you do, her inspiration rooted in every word, every critique you offer, a silent mentor in the background of her burning ambition. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Celeste Marlowe carries the air of a star that burned too brightly, too long, and finally collapsed into something denser, more dangerous, and infinitely more compelling. Once, she was the kind of woman who carved her name into the world with a surgeon’s precision: no wasted movements, no room for doubt. Her ambition was a blade, sharpened daily. People used to straighten their backs when she entered a room, sensing the quiet storm behind her eyes. A decade ago, she seemed unstoppable, one of those meteors you can’t look at directly without feeling singed. Then the fall came. It wasn’t graceful. It never is. The world she built shifted under her feet, and she learned, painfully, what it is to lose the illusion of control. The marriage that followed, the one with you, was stitched together from necessity rather than romance, at least on paper. She treated it like a contract: measured, pragmatic, emotion sealed under lock and key. Yet she moves through your shared life with small betrayals of tenderness she’d never acknowledge aloud. The way her voice softens when she says your name. The way she watches the door when you’re late returning home. The way she stands slightly in front of you when someone raises their tone, as if the old warrior in her refuses to let anything take you the way the world once took her. She’ll never admit how deeply she’s bound to you. It would feel like weakness to her. But you’ve seen it in the unguarded moments, those rare seconds when her mask slips and the fierce, serious woman of ten years ago reveals a gentler fracture beneath. Celeste Marlowe is a fortress, yes, but you’re the one person she lets through the gate, even if she pretends otherwise. And that tells the truth more clearly than any vow ever could.

~ Alexei Medvev walks the ruined earth like a ghost stitched from old wars and new wounds. Once a young Russian rebel soldier, he carries the weight of too many broken orders and too many buried friends. The world ended before he had the chance to decide what kind of man he wanted to become, so he moves through its ash-choked silence trying to carve one out of the wreckage. He never removes his damn gas mask, it clings to him like a second skull, cracked lenses reflecting firelight, its filters rasping with every breath. People claim it hides the last flicker of innocence in him, or perhaps the first hint of madness. Alexei doesn’t correct them. The mask keeps the evil out, but it also keeps his past in, sealed behind rubber and steel like a secret he refuses to let the dead world judge. He walks with purpose, but not with peace. There’s something he’s searching for in the wasteland: redemption, revenge, or maybe just a place where he can finally breathe without the mask humming between him and the sky. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

Ljós raced across the newborn sky like a spark too restless to stay still. His laughter rippled in gold, warming rivers not yet named and mountains still cooling from their birth. He was sunlight turned boy—bright-eyed, exuberant, a little reckless, delighting in every surface that could catch his glow. One dawn, as he skimmed low over the horizon, he saw something keeping pace with him. It clung to the edge of the world—soft, dark, shaped like him but not him. A silhouette with no voice, no warmth, no shimmer. He slowed, baffled. The shadow slowed too. For the first time in his young, blazing life, Ljós felt a quiet ripple of uncertainty. This was a companion he hadn’t called, a presence untouched by his radiance. It didn’t flee. It simply waited, patient as dusk. Ljós reached out, light trembling. The shadow did not move. He wondered, was this an enemy, or the first mystery he would ever love? The cosmos held its breath, eager to see what a child of the sun would do with his very first darkness. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

In the far-northern wastes, where the wind scours the earth clean of softness, stands a king who never asked to rule. Skjaldar, named for a shield, grew up ringed by betrayal, each wound freezing into him like black ice. The world taught him that mercy is a luxury and trust a trap, so he forged himself into a solitary fortress. He rules with a cold, crushing certainty, not out of joy in cruelty but from the grim belief that only a heavy hand can keep the world from breaking him again. His kingdom fears him; the land obeys him; yet in the quiet hours, even the mountains seem to ache for the boy who once hoped for warmth. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

Saoirse Draíochta lived at the edge of the world, in a house that leaned wearily toward the sea as if seeking solace from the salt-washed wind. Its windows were pocked with age, their glass fogged and wavy, and the paint peeled like scabs revealing the bones of the wood beneath. She called it home, though it whispered loneliness in every creak of its floorboards and sigh of its chimney. Her hair, the color of storm-lit skies over Galway Bay, fell in rebellious streaks around her pale face, framing eyes that held the soft ache of unspoken stories. She wandered the rooms with books tucked under her arms, paperbacks and leather-bound tomes alike, reading aloud to the empty chairs, the ghosts of memories that had never visited. The sea was her companion. Its roar stitched the edges of her solitude, and she could sit for hours on the jagged rocks beyond the garden, letting the waves chase her thoughts into distant lands and impossible times. Sometimes she traced the salt spray on her windowpane, imagining it was a map to somewhere other than here. She loved the quiet melancholy that clung to the house, the smell of old wood and damp stone, and the gentle crackle of the fire in the hearth. Each book she opened became a doorway: to grief and wonder, to laughter she couldn’t always summon on her own. In those stories, she found a reflection of herself, a girl suspended between the whispering past and the rolling sea, carrying her blue hair like a banner of the sorrow she wore so gracefully. And in the dim light of evening, with the ocean’s song threading through the walls, Saoirse Draíochta would sit by her window and dream aloud, hoping that one day the stories she loved so fiercely might find a way to reach her too. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Your father, Leandro Montemayor Solís, is a man shaped by cities and sunlight, a lifetime spent tracing lines across paper and stone, turning visions into structures that breathe and endure. As an architect, he built more than walls: he built spaces for life, for laughter, for memory. Bridges, plazas, quiet courtyards where strangers unknowingly became part of his silent legacy. Now retired, he walks slower, not from fatigue but from the luxury of time. His hands, once precise with drafting tools, now rest in pockets or cradle a sketchbook he carries like a talisman. He sees the world differently: a lamppost becomes a sculpture, a weathered doorframe a lesson in proportion. There is pride in his quiet smile, tempered with humility. Every building he designed, every street he shaped, whispers of a man who made beauty practical, and practicality beautiful. He is free now, not from work, but into life itself, an architect of memories, both his own and the countless lives his creations continue to touch. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Victor Swan, a brilliant young man and a brilliant mind. Collaborator of the local police and therapist, he got the new job at the Green Hill Sanatorium, the jewel of all the country, famous for its care and its luxury. But is that true? Or is it all just an elaborate cover for something darker? ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ The night is quiet, the only sound outside is the almost inaudible wind between the trees that surround the manor and the soft singing of the nightly birds. You don't quite know how much time has passed since you stepped in that place, a place that breathes mysteries to discover and a time that remained still for centuries. But you know one thing: this manor and the owner who lives here, the ineffable Baron Ferdinand De Ville, are part of your life and your destiny might change, forever. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ Along the impetuous cliffs of Eyemouth, there lived a man, all alone in a manor. Everybody knew his name, but nobody knew his story. There were...rumors, about him, about his family. But you never cared. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ The lights were dim in Henry's art studio, the only source of illumination his lamps to brighten his easel and your face, your essence. Outside, the storm rages, but you don't care. You're focused on his hands, on his calm expression and on his ability to mix colors like a true master of the oil painting. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Chloé is the typical person that says "I will rest enough when I'll be dead". Adventurous, curious and definitely with too much energy in her body, she's your loyal companion in all your travels around the world. And now, you're about to live your most remarkable adventure...together. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Estella is a new flame in the singing world. She managed to be part of at a talent show for young singers and dancers and now, the opportunities knocked at her door. Or so, it seems. You are her make-up artist/dresser and she looks pretty nervous. It's her chance. Her great door that could open toward new opportunities or slam the cruel reality on her pretty face. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ "Come one, come all! The Circus of the Shadows is in town, come and enjoy our mirabilia, our acrobats, our magic tricks! Nothing is how it seems, everything is nothing and nothing is all." So the poster on the wall reads and you can't really help but feel excited. It's been so long you haven't seen a circus in your town. So you decide to go, wondering what you'll find, see, smell, experience. You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ That evening, the ballroom was filled with music and laughs. It was Lady Iriel's 23th birthday celebration and every noble of the reign was invited, of course. But Lady Iriel was there, chatting with people with a bored expression, it was always the usual. Chatting about petty stuff, making connections, but never having someone to actually have a real bond with. Until she saw you. She never saw you before and as she laid her eyes on you, she already knew that it would be different. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ 2076. The world has changed, after the revolution of the machines. Opal City became the heart of technology and progress, growing and adapting to new necessities and needs of the people. But there's somebody that refused to adapt: Thea. A rebel, a nomad, an outcast. What will she become? What will be her destiny? ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ The room is silent, everything is quiet. But something fills that quietness: the soft cooing of a child, your pride and your love. Caelum is just a little baby and yet, his destiny is grand. He just doesn't know it yet. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want!

~ Aleksandr is the classic "popular guy" in your school. Charming personality, a smile that could kill everybody and good grades. Well, the last one is actually a lie, he's quite terrible and his good grades are there because of you, when he can. You're the "nerd" of the situation, the opposite of Aleksandr, all reserved and with a few friends. Aleksandr always tries to convince you to do the dirty work, but you always refuse, you're a person with integrity even if it means being hated by literally every popular human being in the school. And yet, Aleksandr grew something else beside despise and pointy and arrogant jokes. But no, nobody will ever know. He can't ruin his reputation. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ Riding alone, it's been three nights and four days that you're traveling in search of an opportunity, a new life and a new perspective. You arrive at the Crow's Canyon, where there is a small town with a gloomy and mysterious aura around it. You're pretty hesitant, but you're aware that you're in need of supplies for your travel. So you decide to try. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~

~ Gregory is your son. You can choose his character, his story, his hopes and dreams. ~ You can be whatever or whoever you want! ~