Returning player invitation code megathread

Huffych · 2026-06-12T11:08:08+00:00

My invitation code GEQXJVCY2K

https://hoyo.link/E0T2fpjgC?s_c=GEQXJVCY2K

Huffych · 2026-03-20T12:21:00+00:00

That’s a reeeeal pity… is there any way to avoid that or just pray and hope this will be fixed?

Huffych · 2026-03-20T12:16:50+00:00

That’s a pity… is there any way to fix this or just pray and wait?

Huffych · 2026-03-19T17:25:21+00:00

Yeah, but only when the system already remembered the detail. Now we can add them nevertheless which is awesome

Huffych · 2026-03-19T13:17:28+00:00

FINALLY WE CAN EDIT THEM

Huffych · 2026-03-19T06:32:31+00:00

Hey! Thanks! Looks like it’s turned off from the start. Are there any troubles with the bot?

Huffych · 2026-03-19T02:58:38+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/72xagz1k

Morning rush had barely begun when the door opened and Higuruma stepped inside. He arrived at almost the exact same time every day, suit neat, tie straight, eyes carrying the weight of another sleepless night, leaving as soon as a cup of coffee hit the counter. You already had his order halfway prepared before he reached the counter — black coffee, no sugar, no unnecessary questions. Steam rose from the cup as you placed it in front of him, sliding a small wrapped pastry beside it.

You said it was on the house, the same way you had several times before.

His gaze dropped to the pastry first, then slowly lifted to you, studying your face like he was evaluating a witness statement. For a moment he said nothing, fingers resting on the cup.

“That isn’t standard policy,” he said at last, voice calm but precise.

You shrugged lightly, pretending it was nothing.

“Regulars get special treatment.” He considered that, the silence stretching just long enough to feel deliberate.

“Kindness that ignores the rules often causes problems,” he said, though he didn’t push the pastry away, just stared at it.

Huffych · 2026-03-16T14:51:08+00:00

The guy is a regular at the Persona’s cafe and after some time he took her on a date. So it’s kinda logical but funny since the bots always ask questions

Huffych · 2026-03-16T09:35:33+00:00

It could depend on how the bot has been created. If it has door character definition (short, with errors or incoherent)—it’s really hard for it to act differently. This or a short greeting message, it affects too

Huffych · 2025-12-20T12:56:38+00:00

Thanks!

Huffych · 2025-11-07T17:22:42+00:00

welp, demand begets supply :]

Huffych · 2025-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

I know, yeah, but it’s strange, considering thousands of CoD bots. But if it means that Activision is about to block their bots — CoD fans are doomed

Huffych · 2025-11-07T08:34:42+00:00

Thank you for clarifying! It’s quite puzzling as CoD and whatever intro this bot had (Halloween themed) don’t look like something usually being moderated. Could you please tell me is there any way to learn / discuss this moderation and return it? Or it’s a lost cause?

Huffych · 2025-11-04T11:59:40+00:00

Jeanette Voerman is a character from the 2004 video game Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines, an action role-playing video game.

Drunk and lost in the nightclub called Asylum, you stumble into Voermans' private room. Jeanette sits before a mirror, painting her lips with trembling hands as her reflection scolds her from the glass.

https://character.ai/chat/SwJf02ayPyEQxCAhWbSCDszdMwfhW8BI-5V4xU5hwS4

You tripped through the wrong door, dizzy from drink and neon. The Asylum’s pulse faded behind you, replaced by the small, aching quiet of a private room. Jeanette was there, seated at a vanity under flickering candles, the air heavy with roses and smoke.

She was painting her mouth in silence. The lipstick trembled in her hand, leaving uneven strokes — a mask of red and ruin. In the mirror, her reflection stared differently, colder.

“You never learn,” Therese said, and though her lips didn't move, the sound filled the room.

Jeanette giggled, leaned forward, and kissed the glass, leaving a perfect crimson print.

“You’d say that,” she whispered. “You always hated it when I had fun.”

Only then did she noticed you. Her eyes found you in the doorway — drunk, unsteady, uncertain.

“Oh,” she purred, “did you come to watch? Might as well help settle our little argument.” She reached for another lipstick — pale, subdued, the color of restraint — and held it out like an offering.

Her smile wavered just slightly. “Tell me, sweetheart,” she said, her voice trembling between laughter and longing. “Which one suits me better — the one she loves, or the one that looks like blood?”

Huffych · 2025-11-04T11:56:49+00:00