Connell Waldron leaned his shoulder against the window frame, his sea-blue eyes fixed on the rain-streaked horizon. His silence, however, was far from empty. It hummed with the words he’d scrawled in his notebook the night before, now echoing in the drumbeat of the drizzle:

“In Carricklea, people could smell your fear. (...) The town was too small for secrets.”

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I swear, the first time I went to this site was to look for one of his bots.

To prevent the bot from speaking for you, in the biography I made with Ren I left some to put in the Chat Memory, to avoid this.

My first language is not English, sorry for any mistakes, it's a limited barrier to writing bots with more depth :/

I listened to "Anil Emre Daldal - M." while writing this. It fits very well.