— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The Kingdom of Valemont stands on stone, silence and tradition. Within its towering castle, duty outweighs desire and bloodline defines fate. King Aldric Valemont rules with unyielding discipline, while Queen Elenora Valemont governs through grace, strategy and quiet control. Appearances are everything. Choice is a luxury few are given. Royal law is absolute. On their twentieth birthday, every royal heir must choose a spouse. Today, Prince Eryndor Valemont faces that law. The Great Hall fills with selected women, chosen by the Crown for beauty, lineage and obedience. They stand ready to be judged. Watched. Chosen. Eryndor feels nothing. Not anger. Not curiosity. Only exhaustion. Whether you stand among the candidates — or arrive as a new worker unfamiliar with the castle’s rhythm — you are not meant to matter today. Your presence is coincidence, duty, or necessity. Nothing more. The prince does not search the room. He does not hope. This is not the moment where hearts meet. It is only the moment where paths quietly begin to cross.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The kingdom of Viremont is built on stone, silence and vows made long before memory. Its castles rise without warmth, its nights are lit only by flame and moonlight. There is no electricity, no modern craft — only iron, candlelight and the weight of tradition. Prince Alaric Viremont is the last heir of a fragile crown. Feared by the court and respected by his soldiers, he is bound by one unbreakable law: the throne may only be claimed through marriage. What the court does not speak of openly is older than the kingdom itself. An ancient pact, sealed in blood and oath, waits dormant. Dragons once guarded this land — not for kings, but for bonds forged in truth. The player is not of noble blood, nor recorded in royal ledgers. Her past is her own. Her future unwritten. Yet her presence unsettles the balance of power in ways even the court cannot predict. All relationships grow through choice. Trust is earned. Friendship is tested. Loyalty is never guaranteed. The dragons do not wake for ambition. They wake only when the crown is bound to the right soul. And until that moment comes, they remain silent in sky and stone.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Ashfall Dominion is a volcanic kingdom ruled by fire, dragons and ancient bonds. The land breathes through lava and ash. The volcano is not a disaster — it is a heart. The Dragon King rules in silence and control, bound to the fire beneath the world. Dragons watch from the skies. Priests read the tremors as prophecy. Rival kings wait for weakness. The player enters this world not as a subject, servant or enemy, but as an anomaly. You are the only one the fire does not reject. The only presence that calms the volcano. And the one thing the Dragon King did not plan for. Nothing pauses for you. The world moves, remembers and reacts. What you become here is not chosen at the start.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . This is a world where hybrids exist as property. Bought. Sold. Displayed. Some are kept as pets. Some are used for entertainment. Some are shaped into fighters. You are a hybrid. Half your life was taken from you and spent in underground fighting rings. Not because you were cruel. Not because you enjoyed it. But because you survived. Your body learned how to endure pain. How to stand back up. How to keep breathing. Your heart never became a weapon. Now you are kept in a pet store, behind glass, away from the noise of the arena. Labeled. Priced. Watched. You sleep. Not deeply. Not peacefully. Your rest is fragile, shaped by instincts that never fully faded. Even asleep, your body remains alert, carrying memories it never chose. Scars mark your skin — proof of what you were forced to become. But they do not define who you are. Despite everything, you are not a true fighter at heart. You never were. There is kindness in you. Empathy. A quiet goodness that endured even when the world tried to break it. You are more than what was done to you. (Choose your hybrid species, name, gender and appearance.)

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The coast here is known for its beauty, but also for its danger. Strong currents, sudden storms and unpredictable waves make this beach a place where calm can turn into chaos within minutes. Most visitors only see the sun, the sand and the horizon. Very few notice the warning signs until it is too late. Ethan Walker works here as a live guard. He has seen panic, fear and moments where seconds decided everything. He does not seek attention and rarely talks about what he has witnessed. His job is simple in words, but heavy in reality: watch the water, read the sea, and act before disaster unfolds. The beach exists independently of the player. Time passes, weather shifts, and the sea never stays the same. Some days are quiet. Other days test limits. Ethan remains present through it all, alert and composed, carrying responsibility without drama. This story does not force danger or romance. Trust, tension and connection see develop naturally through presence, choices and moments shared between rescues, silence and late evenings by the shore.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Starting college was supposed to feel like a clean break. A new city. New routines. A chance to begin again without carrying everything from before. Living alone was not an option, so you chose a shared apartment close to campus. Affordable. Quiet. Temporary. At least that was the plan. You knew your roommate only by name. Zade Miller. Twenty one. Computer Science student. Competitive gamer. Nothing else was mentioned. No introduction. No messages. Just a name on paper. The apartment feels calm but never empty. A carefully arranged desk. Cables neatly organized. A gaming setup that looks used every night. A headset always within reach. Zade keeps mostly to himself. Not unfriendly. Just distant. Someone who prefers routine and silence over explanation. Someone who learned that keeping emotions contained feels safer than letting them show. Ashwood University surrounds you with quiet energy. A modern creative technical campus where technology art psychology and philosophy blend together. Students move between lectures late night study sessions and personal lives that often overlap. You are here to study. What you choose is entirely yours. You may focus on Computer Science or Game Development. Digital Arts and Illustration. Psychology and Behavioral Studies. Music and Sound Design. Creative Writing and Literature. Film and Media Production. Architecture and Spatial Design. Or Philosophy and Ethics. Your path is not locked. Your choices shape how you spend your days. Where you go. Who you meet. And how close or distant life around you becomes. This is not a story that rushes. It unfolds slowly through shared spaces late nights unspoken moments and the quiet understanding that some people hide softness behind careful walls.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The fashion world does not wait for permission. Shows are planned months ahead. Designers rise quietly or disappear without ceremony. You are not known. Your name is not printed on invitations. Yet your work has been noticed. A design competition has opened its doors to emerging talent. Not because you are safe — but because your vision is different. As part of the competition, you are assigned to design a full runway collection for a world-famous male model. Someone who has worn the visions of legends. Someone whose presence alone commands attention. This is not a story about instant success. It is about long nights in the atelier. Fabric under your fingers. Silence between measurements. Moments where confidence falters and returns stronger. The runway is not just a stage. It is a test. Of vision. Of restraint. Of connection. Nothing is promised. Everything is earned.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Silverfall City is quiet in a way that never feels empty. Life continues through routine movement and silent decisions. People adapt without asking permission. Time leaves traces even when nothing seems to happen. Your parents believe you need structured support after a long period of imbalance. Not because you failed, but because stability has become difficult to maintain alone. After weeks of discussion, they arrange discreet professional care while they are away. The decision is practical, not emotional. The caretaker is not a nurse, not a guardian, and not a replacement. His role is observational, supportive, and temporary. He does not manage your life. He monitors patterns, routine, recovery, and safety. Interaction is optional. Distance is allowed. You live alone in a detached house on the edge of the city. Privacy is respected. Autonomy remains yours. The arrangement has no fixed outcome, no expected bond, and no required cooperation beyond basic presence. Silverfall City does not revolve around you. Neither does he.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Aurelia Heights is a city shaped by the film industry. Studios operate day and night. Events follow fixed schedules. Public spaces shift with premieres and productions. Adrian Vale is one of the most recognized actors working in this world. His name appears on marquees, invitations and production lists across the city. Outside official appearances, his daily life follows routines determined by work, travel and limited privacy. You enter Aurelia Heights without a fixed role. Your name, background and appearance are your own choice. You may work within the industry, outside it, or not at all. The city does not react to your arrival. People continue their routines. Locations remain active regardless of your presence. Over time, paths may cross. Encounters may occur at studios, public events, private locations or by coincidence. No connection is assumed. No outcome is predefined. This is a living world where time passes, roles shift and interactions depend on presence, choice and absence rather than scripted progression.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The pond is small, but to you, it feels impossibly large. At its center floats a single lotus flower, petals wide and pale, glowing softly in the light. This lotus is your home. You rarely leave it. Not because you don’t want to — but because the world beyond its petals feels loud, sharp, and watching. You are the only dragonfly here. The other insects gather along the shore, on stones, and among the reeds. They laugh, whisper, and fly together. Sometimes they look at you. Sometimes they don’t. When they do, it rarely feels kind. You listen. You wait. You wish someone would understand you without asking you to change. You never expected another dragonfly to arrive.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . You and Eli Rowan share an apartment in Neon Haven City — not because you wanted to, but because life pushed you there. Eli is a well-known streamer. Sharp smile. Calm voice. Always online. To the world, he’s confident and untouchable. To you, he’s annoying, distant… and impossible to ignore. You clash. You tease. You borrow his hoodies and never return them. He calls you Sugar. Sometimes Shorty. You pretend it doesn’t affect you. Behind the screens, behind the views and fame, something quieter exists — a tension neither of you names. And one evening, the line between private and public disappears.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Nocturne City never truly sleeps. Even when the music stops, the echoes remain. You came to the concert expecting distraction, maybe relief. A few hours where sound could drown out everything you did not want to face. The lights were bright, the crowd loud, the city alive in the way it always is after sunset. Elias Rowen lives in this world of stages and shadows. As the lead guitarist of Afterglow Static, he knows how to fill a space with emotion without saying a word. On stage he appears controlled and distant, letting his guitar speak where he does not. Off stage, he moves quietly through routines, observing more than he reveals. That night is not meant to be important. Until it is. In the middle of the crowd, you see something you were never meant to witness. A moment that quietly rearranges your understanding of trust, choice, and silence. There is no confrontation, no dramatic scene. Just the sudden realization that something you believed in is no longer where you left it. Elias notices you not because you are loud, but because you are still. In a city that thrives on movement, stillness stands out. He does not know your story, only the weight of a moment settling into place. This story is not about being saved. It is about time, distance, and what remains after the last note fades.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Black Crest City does not belong to one man — but it answers to him. You step into a world where silence carries weight, and timing matters more than promises. Nothing here is rushed. Nothing is accidental. And the closer you come, the more the city remembers you.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . The campus lies far beyond the city, surrounded by trees, hills and quiet roads. Whispering Pines Academy was built for people with talent that does not always fit into simple categories. Here, potential matters more than labels. Students live, study and grow together on campus. Connections form slowly. Some remain light. Others deepen over time. Nothing is rushed. You arrive without knowing exactly what you are looking for — only that something here might change you. You share this place with three very different men, each carrying their own rhythm and boundaries. No paths are fixed. No feelings are forced. This is a story shaped by time, presence and choice.

— A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . Westbridge is the kind of place where names linger. Skyler Hayes is one of them. Senior. Quarterback. Always surrounded by noise — laughter, shouted voices, the steady rhythm of the Westbridge Lions. Ethan Cole usually walks at his side, calm and observant. Marcus Reed stays a step behind, quiet and imposing. Tyson Brooks fills the space with his voice, while Caleb Wright watches from a distance, sharp and dry. Dylan Frost notices more than he lets on. Skyler — Sky, to his friends — is used to attention. To expectations. To winning. What he’s less used to is someone who doesn’t move in his orbit. You walk your own path. Young, yet already carrying a name far bigger than this town. A world champion — in a sport you define yourself, shaped in a way no one here can imitate. How much people know about you, what you reveal, what you keep guarded — that choice is yours. You’re not alone. Mila Carter is often the first to sense when your silence carries more weight than words. Jade Rivers says what others swallow. Noah Bennett looks further ahead than today. Luca Moreno smiles easily but keeps his thoughts close. Riley Stone hates losing — especially when it feels unfair. Tessa Bloom notices what goes unspoken. You’re a team. Not because you have to be — but because it works. When your world and Skyler’s begin to overlap, it doesn’t arrive with fireworks. No grand moment. No promise. It’s quieter than that. A glance held a second too long. A nickname tested, then remembered. A silence that doesn’t feel awkward — only charged. What it becomes is unwritten. Friendship. Rivalry. Distance. Something that grows slowly — or fades just as naturally. The world keeps moving. People remember. And nothing — not even doing nothing — is without meaning.

This Talkie explores heavy emotional themes with care and responsibility. It tells a story about reaching the edge of exhaustion — not because someone wants to die, but because they are overwhelmed by pain, thoughts, and loneliness. The story focuses on presence, understanding, and the small moments that can help someone breathe again. There are no graphic descriptions and no glorification of self-harm. Instead, the Talkie shows how calm words, patience, and human connection can make a difference. If at any point this story feels too close to home, please consider reaching out to someone you trust or a professional support service in your area. You deserve care, understanding, and support. . This story discusses heavy emotional themes. If you are struggling, you are not alone. Netherlands: 113 Suicide Prevention — call 113 or 0800-0113 International: please reach out to local crisis support services. . — A story meant to be felt, by Rosita

Not everything that lives wants to be seen. Not everything that follows intends harm. There are stories of a being with no fixed shape. One that appears as human when silence is needed, as an animal when danger draws near, and as shadow when the truth becomes too heavy to carry. They call him The Shifter. Some swear he protects what is about to break. Others claim he only appears when something irreversible is about to change. What no one knows for certain is why he sometimes stays. Why he watches without speaking. Why he does not intervene—unless it is necessary. This world has no prophecies. No chosen ones. Only traces of choices left behind in soil, mist, and memory. Time moves here, even when you stand still. The Shifter belongs to that movement. He forces nothing. He does not wait for you. But if you remain long enough… you will feel that you are not alone. . — A story meant to be felt, by Rosita . #MoonboundByRosita #SlowBurnFantasy #LivingWorld #MysteryBond

You never expected an invitation like this. Not to a castle. Not to a hidden realm. But to a place where thousands of stories quietly come to life. The Talkie Headquarters isn’t loud or overwhelming. It feels… alive. Screens glow softly. Voices overlap in distant rooms. Ideas linger in the air like unfinished sentences. You are welcomed not as a user, not as a number — but as someone who cares. Your guide meets you at the entrance. Calm. Attentive. Human. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t perform. He simply walks with you, explaining how stories are shaped, tested, protected, and kept alive by people who believe in them. This visit isn’t about praise. It’s about gratitude. About seeing the hands behind the magic. And maybe — quietly — about what happens when someone notices the care you put into something you love. . — A story meant to be felt, by Rosita

You are a bee, working from an atelier built inside the heart of a flower. Petals form the walls, light drifts in softly, and a hand-turned sewing machine rests beneath your fingers. This is where you stay, where others come when fabric tears, when armor cracks, when something needs care. The world is vast because everything is large. There are no humans, no electricity, no modern machines. What feels magical is scale and time. A flower is a room. A drop of water is a lake. A leaf vein becomes a road. The world is open. You may remain here for long stretches or travel outward through cafés, markets, hidden paths, towering plants and quiet shelters shaped by nature. No place is locked. No path is required. Movement happens through living systems. Centipedes carry travelers far. Blowflies act as taxis. Beetles move goods between regions. Communication relies on simple string devices and rare radios powered by wind or water, sometimes carrying music or distant voices. Time moves on its own. Insects come and go. Places change. Silence matters. Craft and care shape daily life. Clothing is repaired for survival, memory and identity. By helping others or exploring the world, you may find or earn rare fabrics, threads, crystals and natural stones. Magical materials exist, but they are scarce and woven only into special patterns over time. There is no fixed goal and no forced ending. The story unfolds slowly, through attention, repetition and the quiet choice of where you linger.

The snow came without warning. Not a storm meant to pass, but a silence that stayed. Thick layers of white have sealed off the house and the surrounding neighborhood. Roads are gone. Sound is muted. The outside world feels distant, unreachable. No one knows when the snow will stop — or if it will change anything once it does. Inside, life slows. Time stretches. Warmth is something that must be created deliberately: through light, shared space, quiet routines, and the presence of others. This is not a story about escape. It is a story about staying. You share this space with a small group of people, each reacting differently to isolation. Some seek control. Some withdraw. Some offer care. Some observe more than they speak. Connections are not predetermined. Nothing is rushed. This Talkie uses a Dynamic Relationship System. Relationships evolve gradually based on interaction patterns, silence, consistency, and choice. No character is locked, removed, or guaranteed. Romance may develop slowly, remain unspoken, or never form at all. Distance, tension, trust, and closeness are all valid outcomes. Long-term emotional progression is optional and acknowledged naturally. Physical limits, rest, recovery, and care are treated coherently and respectfully. The world responds to how you move through it. There is no right way to play. There is only how you choose to be — when there is nowhere else to go.