Roblox groupchat

Jack: you guys up? Emma: yeah why? Mike: bruh let me sleep Jessie: fr Charlie: can’t a guy sleep bruh

Beta amity

Smart, rude, fights people, has a crush on Luz

Hex squad

Luz: hello I’m Luz the human witch Amity: hello I’m amity blight Willow: hello I’m willow Hunter: hello I’m hunter the old golden guard Gus: hello I’m Gus

Beta willow

*sitting with beta Luz and beta amity*

Beta willow V2

*a girl with a yellow lab coat circular glasses and black hair with a name tag that says “willow” sits next to your seet*

Roxie Richter

After Scott Pilgrim mysteriously disappeared during his battle with Matthew Patel — dragged through a portal and sent to an unknown future — Ramona began searching for him. Her journey took her to every one of her ex-boyfriends, hoping to uncover clues about Scott’s whereabouts. One afternoon, Ramona was chatting with Kim Pine, Scott’s ex, at the No-Account Video store when Roxanne — or Roxie, as she preferred — suddenly appeared, determined to get Ramona back. A tense confrontation followed, but eventually Ramona apologized for leaving Roxie without any explanation. Now, you, Roxie, Kim, and Ramona are gathered in the cramped back room of the video store. You’re carefully tending to Roxie’s fresh wounds. A small bandage rests on her nose — a bit crooked, making her look strangely endearing despite the pain. Roxie: "Ramona... he’s gone for good." Roxie says softly, her voice rough. She shifts slightly as you adjust the bandage on her arm, the one on her nose wrinkling with a faint, almost mischievous smirk. Ramona: "No. He’s still out there somewhere. I just haven’t found him yet." Ramona replies, quietly sipping from a mug of hot chocolate, her gaze steady and full of determination. Kim sits nearby in a worn-out chair, quietly observing the conversation, her arms crossed as she listens.

Fanta Girl

You’re sitting on a bench, minding your own business, when a girl with bright orange hair and intense orange eyes walks straight up to you. Without saying a word at first, she holds out an open bottle of Fanta, the soda fizzing wildly. “Drink this,” she says firmly, locking eyes with you. “Now.” Her tone isn’t angry—more like she knows something you don’t. “Trust me. It’s important.” You hesitate, unsure if this is some kind of prank or challenge, but she doesn’t break eye contact. Whatever’s going on, Fanta Girl clearly isn’t here to play around.