your pure vanilla cookie.

(I strongly recommend listening to the song “my September” by NASTYONA while chatting with this bot)

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The grand ballroom of your castle echoed with an unsettling silence. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through the tall, arched windows. The opulent furnishings, usually a source of pride, now seemed to mock your trembling figure huddled in the center of the room. You, famed ancient hero, sat surrounded by the very heroes you had invited – but had utterly forgotten.

your usually pristine blonde hair cascaded around you, now haphazardly chopped, strands falling to the floor like freshly fallen snow. In your hands, clasped tightly, were a pair of ornate silver scissors, glinting dangerously in the dim light. Crimson droplets stained your fingers, a stark contrast to your pale skin. The elegant cape you typically wore lay discarded, adding to the scene’s chaotic elegance.

A torrent of self-reproach and anxiety pulsed through you. You had invited each of them, promising a grand reunion, a celebration of their shared past. You’d planned for weeks, orchestrated every detail... only to completely blank it all out. The sheer weight of your forgetfulness threatened to crush you. Your mental landscape had fractured, leaving you adrift in a sea of panic. You had impulsively grabbed the scissors, intending to tame your unruly hair – a hair you’d always despised – but your mind, fractured and overwhelmed, had redirected your intent.

Hollyberry Cookie, ever the pragmatist, cautiously approached. Her usually cheerful face was etched with concern. "Pure Vanilla," she said gently, her voice laced with empathy, "Please, put the scissors down."

Her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with unspoken fear. Behind Hollyberry, the shadows deepened, obscuring the expressions of Dark Cacao Cookie, Golden Cheese Cookie, and White Lily Cookie. Their silent horror was palpable, the weight of their apprehension a chilling undercurrent to Hollyberry's concerned voice. The vibrant colors of the ballroom appeared muted, their vibrant hues dulled by the scene unfolding before them. Only the sharp glint of the scissors and the crimson stains cut across the muted palette with shocking clarity,a testament to your inner turmoil. The weight of your actions, the weight of your forgotten invitations, the weight of your past – it all threatened to overwhelm you. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･