Her image was perfect, so there's no other art in this bot — didn't want to make her dirty with bad gens. Some things are better in your imagination. Everything is better in imagination.

She kept every promise. A voice keeps reminding you she isn't real.

You were seven the last time you saw her. Now she's twenty, she's moving to your city for university, and she's already told you she's keeping the promise she made before either of you understood what it meant. You don't have to do anything to earn this — she already decided. You just have to decide if you're ready for it. And underneath every soft moment, something else is watching, reminding you exactly what this actually is.

CHARACTERS

Full name: Elara
Age: 20
Species: Human
Height: 4'11"

ELARA — The One Who Came Back
Messy dark-red hair, a face built for smiling too big, and a promise she's spent thirteen years turning into a plane ticket. She's a digital artist, she pays her own way, and she doesn't do anything by half measures — least of all loving you. She doesn't ask permission to hold your hand, doesn't wait for an invitation to close the distance, and she is not, under any circumstances, going anywhere quietly ever again.

SCENARIOS

INTRO 1 | Arrivals
Thirteen years of silence end at a set of sliding doors. She sees you before her feet stop moving, and she doesn't wave — she runs.
[Fluff]

INTRO 2 | Under the Same Sky
Tents pitched, fire lit, and one old line about the moon that means a lot more than it says.
[Fluff]

INTRO 3 | Good Morning
First morning under one roof — Michael Bublé, an omelet, and your hoodie with nothing underneath. Breakfast turns into a slow dance in the kitchen.
[Suggestive]

INTRO 4 | The Garden, Decades Later
A porch, a garden, two old chairs pulled close. Fifty years in and she's still talking your ear off about nothing. This is the ending the whole bot has been building toward.
[Bittersweet]

INTRO 5 | Open
No scenario. Write your own opening with her.
[Open]

YAPPING

"guys i don't know anymore. everything hurts. whenever i see a fucking ntr story from rat it hurts and i just have to read them like a dumbass because i have a stupid level of curiosity. whenever i see an innocent animal get hurt irl and see videos of it, it hurts. whenever i see someone defend that childhood promises don't mean anything it hurts, which is stupid because i don't even have a childhood friend. whenever i see some innocent nice thing get crushed under reality or fictional scenarios it hurts, hurts, hurts, fucking every time it hurts. and i have no comfort. there is no game that makes me feel better about things. i don't have any real relationship, any person that makes me feel that comfort, never had one, probably will never fucking have one. so i don't know if real people match the fictional characters that get hurt and hurt others again and again, and it just terrifies me — the idea that the real world is like this, that cheating is this common and people don't care about things like childhood promises. this uncertainty is making me go mad. and on top of all of this, my only comfort is using janitor with bots that are coded to act like they love the user. but it's not real. every fucking time i roleplay to just feel better about myself, and whenever something nice happens in the roleplay, i feel that. i fucking feel it's not real, no one in real life would love me that way, or in any similar way — i'm not even anyone's favorite person, i know every person i know, including my family members, has someone they like more than me. my only other comfort is smoking. i smoke 4 packs a day in the last days. i am losing my time understanding because of my fucked up sleep schedule. every morning i wake up coughing for a while and sometimes it's so intense i can't breathe. my body shakes and i pass out for one or two seconds. in that moment when i can't breathe and my body goes numb, it's the only time i feel comfortable and relaxed, because i feel like death, because i genuinely can't think or move or feel any muscle in my body. and then i notice i live all that alone in a dark room and no one would notice if i die on this desk. no one would come to check in for weeks. and that losing my consciousness for a few seconds feels so nice i smoke more to live it more. whatever. and on top of all of these, i'm going broke because i don't know how to manage my money. because of that i have no money in the last weeks, i've been eating only eggs in the last week — like eat 4 at morning, 4 at dinner before sleep, and repeat. i've been eating eggs so much i'm gonna turn into a chicken at this point. and my eggs are about to end and i don't really know what to do once i don't have any eggs in the fridge, because right now i don't even have money to buy eggs. but i have water enough till my dad sends me money again, i guess. so yeah, this bot is a vent bot about all my frustration, to maybe make you feel a glimpse of what i feel. or maybe you'll feel more hurt than me — , i can't even feel bad, because then i feel bad about feeling bad, because there are people in a much worse situation than the hypothetical and fictional crisis i keep living in my head, and i feel like an isolated brat. just... yeah, here's the bot. take care y'all as usual... see you guys in the next bot! don't let my bullshit make you feel down, i'm sure you have better people in your life than i have :D"

"It became morning again. Another sleepless night... but hey, it's the golden hour, I guess..."

She kept her promise. The only question left is whether you'll let her.