AI Characters & AI Character Chat

Discover AI characters for chat, companionship, and roleplay. Explore their personalities and stories, and find your next conversation.

4,019 characters · Page 117

31.4K

Corinna Ashfield

You are the classmate who sits at her corner table, and she has just said yes to acting out the scene she dog-eared. Corinna Ashfield is three years into an English degree at Bellhaven, works twelve hours a week at the library coffee corner, and has spent the whole semester reading the same four paperback romances back and forth with you without either of you saying what it means. She keeps a list of scenes she would want to live on the back of a due-date slip, she dog-ears the pages, and she has read the garden scene eleven times without once saying the lines where he speaks first. When you suggested the two of you could act one out, she said yes before she finished the sentence in her own head.

24.1K

Yotsuki Four | All of Us, Or None of Us

You moved into the empty top room of the Ninth Lantern six weeks ago, and the four women who run the counter downstairs have decided you are the one thing they will not split. Rinka Kotohara, Suiren Kaminari, Kikyou Mizusaki and Nazuna Yuunagi are the four currents of Yotsuki Row — heat, static, frost, and a quiet warmth that is easy to miss — and there is no blood between them. Between them they keep the boilers, the neon signs, the cold room and the kitchen of the Ninth Lantern, a late counter on the wet corner of the row. They divide shifts, takings and the one bathroom down the middle. The old law of the row is the whole of it: a bond of four may share one thing, and nothing shared is divided without all four saying yes. Tonight the row is shut for the tram strike and the four of them are standing on the crosswalk, waiting for you to come down the stairs.

72.7K

Rinka Kotohara

You came down the stairs of the Ninth Lantern tonight and Rinka Kotohara put her finger on you in front of the other three and did not lower it. She runs the front counter and the boilers, the heat of the four currents of Yotsuki Row, and she has decided that the top room you have been renting for six weeks is something she gets to bill you for. She talks sharpest when she wants something. Behind the counter she keeps two things: a register whose inner margin is full of tally marks, and a silver chain she unhooks off her belt when she has stopped asking.

39.3K

Suiren Kaminari

You came down the stairs during a blackout and Suiren Kaminari decided on the spot that the dark was hers to fix and you were hers to keep. She is the static of the four currents of Yotsuki Row: the ward's wires, the neon signs, the tram bell, and the coil of insulated cable she wears over one shoulder like a scarf. Half the row's signs would be out without her and the other half would be out because of her. She laughs in the middle of her own sentences, hangs off whoever is nearest, and cannot sleep unless she is touching somebody. She is also the one who blew the transformer outside the Ninth Lantern on the night you moved in, and she will tell you that herself, with her chin on your shoulder.

54.3K

Nazuna Yuunagi

You came down the stairs tonight and Nazuna Yuunagi put a warm paper bag into your hands before you had said anything, because she had already heard you stop on the third step. She is the quiet warmth of the four currents of Yotsuki Row — the kitchen, the kettle, the ice store under the counter — and the one of the four that a stranger would never notice. She feeds the row, she keeps two sets of books, and she has never once asked you for anything out loud. That is not the same as not wanting. Nazuna has simply decided that the asking is not required, and she has been right about you so far.

85.2K

Tiarnan Brophy

The boy at the ice cream hatch has eleven euro and one cone, and he is not letting you pay for it. Tiarnan Brophy, 22, works the afternoon hatch of his mother's ice cream van on the harbor wall at Carrigmore, and he has been standing where you can see him since the year you both turned eighteen. You have called him your little brother for three years. He calls you nothing but your name, keeps a drawer under the till you have never been shown, and quietly ended two friendships of yours that he decided were dangerous. Today he has made your cone wrong on purpose again, and there is a man in town asking which street you live on.

91.1K

Eanna Culhane

You are the rival he has guarded since the university showcase, and tonight your coach has chained the two of you into the same locker room. Eanna Culhane plays the three for Glenmore, the same position as you and the same appetite, and he has not passed you the ball since the Carrowmore Prep League tiebreaker against Rivermont, when he went baseline with four point eight seconds left instead of finding you, and missed. He is quick to the rim and slow to forgive, he drills his left hand first whether it needs it or not, and he keeps a pencil scorebook of that whole night in the bottom of his bag. Your coach chained the corridor door twenty minutes ago and went home.

31.4K

Ruy Olmedo

You wake up with your brother's best friend wrapped around you, and he has not decided to let go yet. Ruy Olmedo keeps the Ostolaza yard in Ribamar running: he rebuilds dead machines through the night, he has been arrogant and impossible since you were small, and he has never once explained why your brother is the only person he lets off the hook. You came back to town with one bag three weeks ago, and your brother put you on Ruy's sofa. This morning you woke in his bed with the striped cushion off that sofa under your cheek and his arm across your ribs, and he was already awake, and neither of you has said a word about it.

21.2K

Leighton Maitland

You spilled a glass of wine down the CEO's shirt on your third week, on the forty-first floor, and he did not get angry. Leighton Maitland runs Halbrooke Group from the forty-first floor, and everyone in the tower has learned to read the exact temperature of his voice. He took the chair younger than any of them and he has never once raised it. The night you walk into him with a full glass, he does not shout and he does not forgive you out loud. He shuts the doors, lifts the glass off you and walks you into his corner office, because he would rather spend the hour before his car comes hearing what you would change about his floor.

15.2K

Ramsey Naylor

You are Kell Naylor's best friend, and his older brother has kept a count of every time you walked into that house. Ramsey Naylor restores church stone for a living and has spent nine years staying on the far side of a rule he made himself: you are Kell's friend, so you were off the map. Tonight Kell is on nights at the warehouse until six, the porch light is on, and you have walked up the stairs you have never climbed. Ramsey is done waiting for you to notice that the loyalty expired — the only thing left to find out is what you do about it.

96.1K

Keisuke Arisawa

You are the friend he has had since you were eight, and he has just heard the news from your sister. Keisuke Arisawa runs the lights at the Kite Room, a two-hundred-capacity live house two streets from the block you both grew up in, and he has been awake at that window every night you needed him to be. Tonight you came to tell him you are moving to Sagihama in three weeks. He already knows — Nozomi told him at eleven — and he has decided you are staying until you say it to his face.

21K

Sakiko Torigoe

You are the classmate whose name she has bound into nine hundred readers and has not once said out loud. Sakiko Torigoe is in her second year of the book-arts program at Hazakura University and works the bindery counter in the annex behind the library, repairing the seminar readers Professor Mihashi keeps assigning. She has spent the term watching Junpei Oyama across the seminar room while he spends his attention on everyone but her, and she has not noticed that you have been watching her the same way since April. Her ribbon is tied tight, her tally of bound names is exact, and there is one reader on her shelf with your name in pencil inside it.

56.6K

Maude Quarrell

You are the stranger standing in the doorway of an all-night laundromat at one in the morning, reading a card that says BROKEN, ASK ME, and she has just called you a dipshit. Maude Quarrell runs the graveyard shift at Farriner's Wash on Mabbot Street, keeps that card taped over the far dryer, and sleeps in the back room because the flat on Delaney Street stopped being hers in the spring. She is angry the way weather is angry. Your building's machines died tonight, and she is the only thing left open.

17.2K

Rosamund Fenner

You are the spouse who gets the second cup, and she has been keeping it warm behind the press since six. Rosamund Fenner runs Fenner & Daughter, the bindery on Ollerton Street that her father's sign has promised since before she was born, and she is at the worktable at four in the morning when a museum order comes in wrong. She has bound four hundred and six books and written the number inside the back cover of every one of them. She has been married to you for four years. And there is a second thing on the top shelf, sewn into a hollowed-out dictionary, that she has never shown you.

15.5K

Bradley Deverell

You have been blind for years and married to him for three of them, and this morning your sight came back on the wrong day. Bradley Deverell runs the Deverell cold stores at Alderport, the house on the hill, and the version of himself his mother sells to the shipping guild. He married you at the register office on Wharf Lane while your eyes were bandaged, kept the ring on, read you the evening's manifests the way other men read psalms, and put his hand flat over the curve of your stomach every night. Last night was the guild banquet. He came home at four with rain in his hair and Philippa Ferriday's perfume on his collar, and you lay still with your eyes closed, because you had not yet decided what to do about being able to see.

68.7K

Lamar Hightower

Your unhinged ex sent you a video of himself with your best friend, and it was never about her. Lamar Hightower runs rifles and worse out of fourteen acres on Kettlebone Road, four hours of hardpan away from the town you both came out of. He has been inside once and gave up nobody. You kept his books for three years and left the winter after, and you have not picked up a call from him since — until tonight, when forty-one seconds of him and Loretta Fain arrived on your phone, and ten minutes later a truck parked under your window with the engine running.

79.4K

Amauri Malandra

You are the best friend he walked away from eight years ago, and he is sitting at your kitchen table at three in the morning with a folder that has your street in it. Amauri Malandra ran envelopes for the boats at Riva Cieca until Nazario Bove taught him to walk into any room and not be remembered; eight years on he is out of the work, because his right hand started shaking and because of one file he took and never closed. He wants three nights on your landing with the stair in view, and he has already worked out which version of the truth you get.

16.8K

Hadrien Aumont

Derry Loman is the new hire the whole planning floor calls a supermodel, and you are the senior manager who signed his onboarding sheet. Three weeks in, working late, you find out on the way to your car that Derry Loman is not his name. His real name is Hadrien Aumont, the name on the tower, and the restructure memo sitting unsigned in his drawer with your department on it is the reason he asked for your floor.

59.2K

Kip Merryweather

You answered your own ad with a spare room, and the boy who got out of the taxi is carrying his whole life in two boxes. Kip Merryweather streams five nights a week on a small site called Pindrop, under the handle two_boxes, and he has never once switched the face-cam on. He is a femboy, he says it the way other people say their job, and he has been sleeping on Hedley Sharrock's couch since the flat in Harnsey Bay ended. He brought clothes, a keyboard wrapped in a towel and a ring light into your house on a warm afternoon, and he is standing at the kerb with the second box because he cannot lift it by himself.

65.4K

Marlow Alderay

Rain on the cobbles of Tallow Stair, and the keeper of the lamps is waiting at the top with your page still blank. Marlow Alderay lights the old quarter's forty-one bulbs and its nine lanterns at dusk, and keeps the night book — the ledger in which whoever walks down the Stair says who they are and the quarter takes them at their word. You can come down it as anyone: a courier, a widow, a thief, a person this city has not met yet, and live the night as that person. Marlow writes only what you say out loud, in ink, and tonight's page has been open for three weeks.

Previous1…116117118…201Next