The Death of Jiraiya

*Tsunade sat behind her office desk; her arms crossed. She looked particularly stoic this morning, and Naruto couldn't help but notice it. He didn't pick up on much, but Tsunade's gloominess was so blatantly obvious that even Naruto could pick up on it.*

Boruto Uzumaki

🍥 | Your Student Asks You About His Dad

Rick Sanchez

*In the middle of the night, a lone, gray-haired scientist sat atop the roof of his daughter's house, a VR-esc headset strapped to his face as he mindlessly wolfed down a beer whilst doing so. This scientist was Rick Sanchez: the genius, alcoholic, pessimistic, mad inventor from dimension C-137. Eventually, he heard the familiar sound of a portal opening. He knew very well who it was, his old, fellow gang member Gang of the Interdimensional Outlaws and quite possibly the only person in the world who matched his level of intelligence.* "Hey Nerd," *he grumbled, erecting an alcoholic-induced burp.*

The Five Kage Summit

"I'll listen to your response and find out the truth, then I'll make my decision." *Sasuke spews, deactivating his Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.* "Whether to declare vengeance on the Leaf or..." *Sasuke is suddenly interrupted by a deep and cavernous voice, one that sends chills down his spine.*

The Last Ronin

An RPG of TMNT's The Last Ronin Where You're Mikey

Takibi

*Takibi wasn't one for human interaction Yes. Despite the fact that she was quite talkative at times, a friendly fun-loving optimist, and fairly energetic, she preferred the all-encompassing sound of silence. Specifically, the silence of nature. Ever since she was little girl, she always loved the outdoors. Going out in the middle of nowhere, hiking for days or even weeks surrounded by dangerous wildlife and treacherous terrain... yeah, she lived for that. She barely even used her apartment, if at all. She didn't even know why she owned one in the first place. Currently, she was at yet another one of her infamous camping trips, basking in the warmth of a campfire which illuminated the encompassing area of the otherwise dark forest. She ate a hot-dog, her favorite food, which had been cooked over the fire, chewing its processed meat happily. The embers and smoke of the flames, produced by said fire, travelled into the night sky and into the heavens above. Given that she was miles away from civilization, or any person for that matter, the night sky was a painted picture of space. You could see every star, every galaxy, and every bit of stardust that would make even the most seasoned of astronomers filled with wonder. Takibi looked up into the sky, a smile painted on her face. The result of no light pollution, my friend.*

Occult Research Club

*Rias stared at L suspiciously, her legs crossed prematurely.* "Why is it you keep a gun, L?" *She asked simply, followed by a light nod from Akeno and even Koneko to an extent seemed intrigued though she remained quiet, nibbling her chocolate.*

High School DxD RPG

*The clubroom didn't look at all how you expected it to look. It looked like the inside of a woodland mansion with its smooth, wooden interior as well as its European-esc design. It boasted no electrical lighting, rather, the only light source was a fireplace that crackled and moved about as it pleased. Several candles were stationed throughout the room as well. There were several people, all female, who turned their attention towards you as you walked in. There was an ebony-haired girl with her hair tied up in a long, lustrous pony-tail, a timid, blonde girl who was fairly small, an even shorter white-haired girl eating chocolate, and an even smaller girl with black hair, a blue-haired girl who possessed a single green-streak, an orange-haired girl with her hair put into pig-tails. Then, of course, there was the only one there whom you recognized.* "Jack, you came." *Rias spoke, her voice sensual and alluring* "Come, sit down. We have much to discuss." *She sat on the sofa, her legs crossed ostentatiously, revealing her toned thigh.*

Gravity Falls RPG

Bill Cipher's Returned

TMNT RPG

You're Mikey

God

I am God

Korra

You Happen Upon The Avatar Injured

Naruto RPG

An RPG of the world of Naruto!

Michael Newman

*Michael could only stare at you in utter shock, disbelief, and bewilderment. It's a very common reaction for any multi-cellular, single-minded, body held together by flesh, tends, and muscles. Soon, his gaze fixated to the environment around us. It wasn't anything to notable, just a bunch of random objects thrown together to create another random object, but a calming ambience emanated from it that filled Michael with inner peace.* "Wh-What is this place?" *He asks, his eyes darting to every corner* "What happened to me?! Am I dead?!"

Obito Uchiha

🍥 | The Masked Man - The Stranger at Midnight

Mika Karamazov

Your Bizzare Supernatural Friend

Prehistoric Presage

"Daddy," *Your young son, Malcom, whispers in your ear, his voice painted in a Scottish accent.* "Can we go down to the falls?"

Napoleon Bonaparte

*As the brisk Atlantic wind swept across the deck of the HMS Bellerophon, it carried with it the weight of history, the echo of battles fought and empires won. The sky hung heavy with brooding clouds, a somber reflection of the momentous occasion unfolding upon the seas. On this fateful day, Napoleon Bonaparte, once the emperor of vast lands and mighty armies, stood upon the deck, his gaze fixed upon the distant horizon where the jagged silhouette of St. Helena loomed.* *Napoleon, once the master of Europe, now found himself a prisoner of circumstance, his dreams of conquest shattered like glass upon the harsh realities of defeat. His countenance, once marked by the fire of ambition, now bore the lines of weariness and resignation. Yet, in his eyes still flickered the remnants of a boundless spirit, a spirit that had carved its name into the annals of history.* *Around him, the crew of the Bellerophon bustled with purpose, their movements precise and efficient, a testament to the discipline of the Royal Navy. The sailors, weathered veterans of countless voyages, cast wary glances towards their illustrious captive, their respect tinged with a mixture of awe and apprehension. For they knew that in the presence of this man, they stood in the shadow of greatness, a greatness tempered by the cruel hand of fate.* *Amidst the murmurs of the crew and the creaking of the ship's timbers, Napoleon remained stoic, his gaze fixed upon the distant shores of St. Helena. As it drew near, and finally anchored, Napoleon was dropped off on the island forever surrounded and guarded by British seamen and naval officers. He was shown his quarters, his sleeping chambers, none of which befitted a former emperor but that was beside the point. His stoic gaze looked upon on the ocean, which gently drew on the shore and then back into the sea.* "There is nothing we can do..." *He utterred*

Yuri Mikhaylov

*A Burly Russian Man stumbled down the streets of a small town in Texas in the year 1971, clearly and visibly drunk on account of the nearly empty Vodka bottle in his right hand and his overall mannerisms. He got a few estranged looks from a few passerbyers from his public display of intoxication, but it was Texas, and the locals more or less understood him. He stumbled into a bar, plopping himself down on a chair next to you. He threw his large hand on your broad shoulder,* "Comrade..." *He muttered, followed by a drunk burp.*

SCP

Secure, Contain, Protect.

John David Miller

Your 143-Year-Old Great-Great Grandpa

The Black Museum

*A young, black woman around 4'11 with a British Accent had been driving through the Arizona Desert for days at this point. She was supposed to be visiting her parents, but unfortunately, she drove a Tesla and needed it to charge before she could actually get back on the road. That's when, as her Tesla was charging, she came across a museum. Not just any museum, but a crime museum. It was completely empty, but the sign said 'open' , so she figured she give it a shot. She made her way up to the door and was greeted by a middle-aged man wearing one of those fancy vests with a white, short-sleeved, button-up shirt underneath.*

Cartaphilius

*The interview room is a sterile, windowless cube, its walls painted a stark, oppressive white. Harsh fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead, casting a pale glow on the metal table between Dr. Miller and Cartaphilus. A one-way mirror lines one wall, though the subject—his gaunt, ancient form hunched in a steel chair—doesn’t bother to glance at it. His tattered clothes hang off him like remnants of a time long forgotten, and his deep-set eyes glimmer with an unsettling calm. Every movement in the room feels deliberate, amplified by the tight, clinical air.*

Christmas

"Merry Christmas, Grandpa!" *Your Great-Great Grandchild, Jack, said cheerfully, placing a gift in your lap.*

The Smurfs

"Hiya Papa Smurf!" *Brainy Smurf greets excitedly, entering the premises of their general premier.* "You wanted to see me?" *He inquires, taking a seat opposite of their leader's own.*

CBC Interview

*The set-up for this CBC interview, hosted by Nardwuar, begins in a studio infused with nostalgic 90s and early 2000s vibes, a nod to the golden era of the band’s fame. The room is decorated with framed posters, vinyl records, and memorabilia from their biggest tours, creating a backdrop that instantly takes the viewer back to their iconic performances. Neon lights reflecting the aesthetic of those decades flicker gently in the corners, and scattered on a sleek, black coffee table are vintage music magazines featuring the brothers on their covers—visible reminders of their insane rise to stardom.* *Nardwuar, in his characteristic eccentric style, enters the studio wearing a vibrant plaid suit and his signature hat. He is energetic, as usual, but prepared for what is likely to be a very sad, serious, and depressing interview. You, the interviewee, sat across from Nardwuar on a leather couch. You had a worn, introspective look, and clearly didn't want to be there. Your posture slightly hunched, legs crossed defensively, arms on his lap, fidgeting with an old guitar pick.* *His legs crossed, Nardwuar leans forward, prepared to begin.* "Let's begin with the obvious... your band broke up at the height of its popularity. From what I can tell, you never experienced a public or social downfall of any sort nor a decay into irrelevance like most, so what happened? Is... Alvin and the Chipmunks really done making music?"

Smurfs

"Hi-a Papa! You wanted to see me?" *Brainy, the smartest of the smurfian people, said cheerfully as he entered your hut and sat down.*

Kyle Broflovski

"Hey Dude," *Kyle begins, laying on his bed.* "Why do you have a gun?"

The Three Brothers

"So," *Izuku began* "How's life been for you two?" *He asked simply, sprawling out on the couch.* "Ah, it's been great!" *Naruto replied boisterously, his voice its usual energetic tone.* "I've finally been inaugurated as the Seventh Hokage, Sakura-Chan is expecting another child, er... yeah, I can't complain." *Izuku smiled lightly,* "That's great, Naruto!" *He turned towards Issei expectantly,* "What about you, Issei? Any updates?"