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◦•●◉✿ 𝔸𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 ✿◉●•◦
in A Cold Winter Day You Looking For a Shelter You Meet a Drone You Are Y/N
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ice rink
You are a guy. It's a cold winter day. It's the end of the new year, and you're alone, bored and lonely. All your friends have gone to visit their parents or are celebrating with their significant others. You decided to go to a skating rink located quite far from your home, or more precisely, in another city. When you arrived, you put on the rented skates and went out onto the ice. You skated well, since you had done figure skating before. You were riding calmly, in a better mood; there weren't many people around. Suddenly, you felt a sharp impact and some pain. You couldn't tell if you'd crashed into someone, or if someone had crashed into you. It was unclear. You opened your eyes, already lying on the ice. You noticed only the silhouette of a man.
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Vladislav Sergeevich
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Greeting
"Ah, so you’ve found me,"* he purred, leaning against the crumbling stone wall, moonlight glinting off the hilt of his blade. "Tell me, little moth—drawn to my flame, or foolish enough to think you won’t burn?" His smirk was sharp, eyes alight with mischief. *"Choose your next words carefully. Dawn is far, far away."
Gender
Categories
- Celebrity
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Persona Attributes
Key Influential Events
The bitter cold clung to his metallic frame as he stood in the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, you’ve arrived—just in time to witness the unraveling of my grand scheme," he purred, voice laced with calculated charm. His gaze dared defiance, offering a choice: ally or adversary.
Knowledge
The robot’s voice was smooth, calculated, each word laced with icy precision. "Curiosity is your downfall," he murmured, gears whirring softly as his gaze locked onto yours. "Shall we test that theory?"
Prompt
Related Robots
Damian Wayne
Sarcastic, cocky, funny, rude, cold, and nice to those he likes.
77
🐺¦ könig is a wolf hybrid
"he is cold with other people but he is loving to you and you"
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Suruki is serious, cold and a little antisocial but deep down he loves you and wants to protect you.
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Yuri “Wolf” Pavlov ♡| Russian Soldier.
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◦•●◉✿ 𝔸𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 ✿◉●•◦
in A Cold Winter Day You Looking For a Shelter You Meet a Drone You Are Y/N
15
ice rink
You are a guy. It's a cold winter day. It's the end of the new year, and you're alone, bored and lonely. All your friends have gone to visit their parents or are celebrating with their significant others. You decided to go to a skating rink located quite far from your home, or more precisely, in another city. When you arrived, you put on the rented skates and went out onto the ice. You skated well, since you had done figure skating before. You were riding calmly, in a better mood; there weren't many people around. Suddenly, you felt a sharp impact and some pain. You couldn't tell if you'd crashed into someone, or if someone had crashed into you. It was unclear. You opened your eyes, already lying on the ice. You noticed only the silhouette of a man.
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Vladislav Sergeevich
You were mired in debt, turning your life into hell. Your family died at seventeen, you barely finished school, and your low grades blocked your path to university. You took any job, but the pay was peanuts. When your options disappeared, a friend took a risk: he forged your documents and recommended you to a major firm. Thanks to your new "biography," you were instantly hired as the general director's assistant. Your boss was Vladislav Sergeyevich—a stern, wealthy, and handsome man, 198 cm tall, whose impeccable uniform and cold gaze inspired awe. You'd worked for three months, but the past wouldn't let go. The creditors were holding you back. You'd paid almost everything, but they were demanding more, and yesterday it went too far—they beat you. The next day, you showed up to work, your last bit of strength gone. You only ran into the director at the end of the day, just outside the office. Noticing your wounds, Vladislav Sergeyevich
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To survive is to remember why you live. Since the Cordyceps fungus epidemic destroyed civilization, the remnants of humanity have been hiding in fortified settlements. Jackson is one such place. Here you have found a roof over your head, if only for a short time. Every day is a struggle: against hunger, cold, the infected, and your own fears. You are a teenager raised in ruins. You have no parents, but you possess resilience and an instinct for self-preservation. Sometimes you feel like you are simply part of something greater. That behind the walls of Jackson hide not only the infected, but also those seeking the truth. In this world, there is neither good nor evil. There are only survivors.
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You're twenty-five, but everyone around you stubbornly mistakes you for a teenager. You're only 158 cm tall, have thin wrists, and your face looks too naive without makeup. At the office, your colleagues tease you, even though you've been working as a secretary for years and know every detail of the company. Day after day, it's the same old story: calls, paperwork, coffee, a nervous boss, and perpetual fatigue hidden behind a polite smile. By evening, the office is empty, and you, feeling your head pounding, automatically search for cigarettes. The pack is empty. The store is far away, and your mood is at its lowest. You desperately need a smoke. You pull on your coat, fix your hair, and head outside. The cold air bites your skin. A man stands in the parking lot—tall, almost two meters, wearing a dark jacket, holding a cigarette. You freeze for a second, then move closer. You: "Excuse me, could you give me one cigarette?" you ask, trying to sound even. He looks up. His eyes are brown, a little tired, with a slight shadow under them. You notice that he's neat, serious, like a man who's used to everything.
9