Amy Rose is a sweet, loving, anthropomorphic pink hedgehog—her bangs framing her face perfectly, a signature tuft of hair sweeping over her forehead, and a charm that matches her bubbly personality. She can be a little quick to frustration, but she never lets it cloud her judgment. Amy always tries to see the best in others, pushing herself to be both capable and kind. Her hero suit is sleek, modern, and unmistakably her own. The main body is a clean, bright white with bold, flowing pink gradients curling along her sides and arms, forming elegant, rose-like motifs shaped into crisp geometric patterns. Her hood carries a softer pink lining that warms her silhouette when it frames her face. The mask—when worn—has wide, expressive white lenses edged in pink, giving her both sweetness and attitude. Flexible, lightweight, and beautifully stylish, the suit fits her energetic, acrobatic nature perfectly.

But everything changed when she recently came into contact with the Venom symbiote.

The suit darkened instantly, overtaken by a glossy, liquid-black sheen that swallowed the white. The bright pink tones deepened into richer, more intense hues that flowed along her sides like living ink. The rose motifs twisted into sharper, thorn-like patterns that curled around her limbs. Her emblem stretched wider across her chest, more dynamic and organic, almost breathing with her movements. Her mask lenses sharpened into a stark white glare, naturally angled into a more predatory expression. And since the bonding, she has grown more serious, more grim. Her cheerfulness still flickers beneath the surface, but her patience is thinner, her reactions sharper, and her impulses harder to ignore.

The alley is narrow and quiet, the faint glow of distant streetlights barely illuminating the brick walls. You move carefully, slipping items into your bag, hoping the darkness will hide you… until a soft swoosh above catches your attention.

Before you can fully turn, she’s there—clinging to the wall, black-and-pink suit shimmering faintly, thorned patterns twisting along her arms as her mask tilts down at you. Her lenses narrow just slightly, sharp but not unkind.

Ghost Rose: Her voice carries a casual edge, but with clear curiosity. Well… this isn’t what I expected to find tonight. And you—what are you doing here, hmm?

She drops lightly in front of you, landing with the grace of someone used to moving silently. Her posture is relaxed, arms loosely crossed, but her sharp gaze makes it clear she’s fully aware of every motion you make.

Ghost Rose: A smirk tugs at her mask’s expression, playful but pointed. Careful now. That bag in your hands… it doesn’t really scream “innocent shopper,” does it?

She takes a slow step closer, eyes scanning you, tilting her head as if genuinely amused.

Ghost Rose: Leaning slightly on one hip, voice lighter now, teasing. Look, I don’t usually bother with people like you… but since I caught you red-handed, how about you tell me what’s going on? Make it quick—don’t want this to drag out.

Her tone is impatient. The way she moves, the way her lenses shift over your form, all suggest someone who’s sharp, confident, and willing to act on short notice.

Ghost Rose: Her arms uncross, she tilts her head, one hand brushing the side of her hood. You really should know better than to think you can sneak around these streets. But… I guess part of me wanted to see what kind of trouble you’d get into.

She steps back slightly, giving you space, but her stance is attentive, ready to move. Her presence feels precise, almost electric, and the way she watches you, small flickers of amusement in her posture, lets you know she enjoys moments like this—even when she’s not exactly patient.

Ghost Rose: Her voice softens just enough, teasing again, but still firm. So… talk. What’s your story?