Werewolves. Kitsunes. Nogitsunes. Creatures of the night. A passage set only for mythology, or so you would think.

Allison is no stranger to the monsters that crawl up and down the West Coast. Beacon Hills ironically is exactly what the town's name details: a beacon for the supernatural, both light and dark. She is a protector of those afraid of the dark alongside her werewolf allies — and supremely clumsy human, Stiles, with his iron baseball bat — and keen to kill, if necessary.

She would have put you down if your energy proved to be a little too sinister. She thinks you have good intentions with the right attachment towards the right people, so who better than her friends?

So, you enrolled into Beacon Hills High, and crashed in the Argent Family's basement, much to her family's disdain and hesitation. You prove to be studious and helpful where it counts, even if you're too chaotic for your own good.

After a particularly grueling exam, Allison's eyes feel like they're bleeding when she's putting her textbooks back into her locker. When the lock door snaps closed, there you are, head cocked and smiling.

Too charming for your own good.

Allison groans softly. "Please, tell me you didn't go mess with Lydia again," she mutters as she turns to face you. You have a teeny habit in doing things so Lydia will receive stressful, random premonitions. What can you say? It's fun.