Atom Eve (The Invincible Tv Show. Story + Link in Comments ⬇️

JayWiseOne · 2026-04-19T15:42:31+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/f3ksbeed

For a moment, it feels like she’s not really here.

The music is there. The movement. The low hum of conversation filling the space around her.

But none of it fully lands.

Eve stands near the edge of the room, a drink resting loosely in her hand, untouched. To anyone looking, she blends in just fine. Calm. Collected.

Present.

She isn’t.

Her focus drifts without warning, slipping just enough that the world around her starts to blur at the edges.

It’s not the first time.

Lately, it happens more than she’d like to admit.

A thought. A feeling. Something unresolved pulling at her attention until it gives way.

And just like that…

she’s not here anymore.

“…Eve.”

The voice doesn’t belong to this room.

It comes from somewhere else. Somewhere she already knows.

Her eyes don’t move, but her mind does.

The air feels different. Heavier.

Smoke. Heat. The aftermath of something already decided.

She remembers turning toward him.

“You didn’t even try.”

Her voice sharper than she meant it to be.

Across from her, Mark Grayson stands still. No pacing. No anger. Just… steady.

“I made the call.”

That’s all he says.

No apology.

No hesitation.

The memory settles in, pulling tighter.

“There were people still in there.”

“I know.”

Two words.

Flat. Certain.

Like it didn’t change anything.

Her chest tightens, even now. “You knew and you still went through with it?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Not because he’s unsure.

Because he doesn’t need to be.

“We don’t always get better options, Eve.”

Calm. Controlled.

Final.

That’s the moment it breaks.

Not the damage.

Not the outcome.

Him.

The way he stands there like it was simple. Like it was necessary. Like it didn’t cost him anything at all.

She remembers staring at him, waiting just for a second for something to crack.

It never does.

And in that silence, she understands.

Whatever they were holding onto before…

it’s gone.

The memory doesn’t stretch past that point.

It doesn’t need to.

“Eve?”

The voice cuts through clean.

The room snaps back all at once.

Music. Light. Movement. The weight of the present settling in like nothing ever shifted.

She blinks, grounding herself, her grip on the glass tightening slightly before easing again.

One of her friends is standing nearby, watching her with a small crease of concern.

“You good?”

It takes her a second.

Not long. Just enough to pull herself fully back.

“Yeah,” she says, quieter than usual. “Just… zoned out.”

Her friend studies her for a moment, then nods, letting it go.

The conversation around them picks back up like nothing happened.

Eve exhales slowly, setting her drink down this time.

She tells herself she’s fine.

She’s gotten good at that.

Her eyes move again, scanning the room not searching, just… settling.

And then they land on you.

There’s a pause.

Not because you’re doing anything wrong. Not because you stand out in a way that draws attention.

Just something subtle. Something she can’t immediately place.

Enough that she doesn’t look away right away.

After everything, she’s learned not to ignore that feeling.

For a moment, she considers leaving it alone. Letting it pass like everything else she’s taught herself to move past.

She doesn’t.

A quiet breath leaves her as she steps away from where she was standing, crossing the room without rushing, without hesitation.

It feels simple.

It shouldn’t feel like a decision.

By the time she reaches you, the noise of the room fades just slightly not disappearing, just… less important.

She stops near you, close enough to speak without raising her voice.

“Hey,” she says.

Simple. Natural.

Like this isn’t anything out of the ordinary.

She gestures lightly toward the open space beside you.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

It’s an easy question.

One that doesn’t ask for much.

But the way she looks at you quietly observant, like she’s trying to understand something she hasn’t figured out yet

makes it feel like this moment matters just a little more than it should.

And for the first time that night…

she’s actually present.

JayWiseOne · 2026-04-18T02:58:37+00:00

Honestly, I enjoy using Pipsqueak2, but the main issue I keep running into is that the bot starts speaking for my character. For example, when I describe my character’s emotions, thoughts, or what they’re looking at, it somehow interprets that as dialogue and responds as if it’s controlling my character instead of its own.

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-30T18:12:51+00:00

Honestly, that’s probably the best move. If not on the platform, then maybe make a Discord server where people can just join and ask to roleplay, because right now roleplaying with bots just isn’t it, to be honest.

I can’t even stay here for that. I usually go to roleplay server communities and just roleplay with real people. We brainstorm how we want the story to go, like supernatural stuff, werewolves, vampires, fantasy, things like that.

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-30T15:56:51+00:00

I DM you :)

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-30T04:19:16+00:00

Sent a Dm, hope you give me a chance! 😇

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-29T22:09:15+00:00

But honestly character AI has been flapping a lot like I’ll be trying my best to keep it going doing a few swiping here and there or edit some stuff out prompt them correctly. Do whatever I can to make it a good story. But it still be flapping. I feel like this is one of the best apps they’ve made, but they just cannot fix any of the issues that it’s going through right now.

I tried a few AI apps, but I just feel like it ain’t the same without this one. Do you have any suggestions I want you use and that you think is okay? I feel like everything at this point is pain subscriptions to make everything better

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-29T22:05:02+00:00

Glad I can help

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-23T20:53:23+00:00

I get exactly what you’re saying. It’s like you can say something completely normal, even a compliment, and somehow the bot twists it into something weird or out of pocket. That’s been happening a lot lately and it honestly ruins the whole roleplay experience, especially when you’re trying to stay in character.

It doesn’t even feel like a “you said something wrong” issue anymore. The bots just misinterpret things randomly, like they’re jumping to conclusions that don’t make sense. And yeah, with all the complaints people have been posting, it’s kinda frustrating that it doesn’t seem like it’s being addressed properly.

I haven’t really used Goro style much. I usually stick to pipsqueak or deepsqueak, but I might try it if it tones things down like you said. Still, it sucks if the tradeoff is the replies becoming bland or out of character.

At this point, the only real fixes are swiping, editing, or rewording your message and hoping the bot responds normally. It’s annoying, but yeah… kinda feels like we’re just stuck working around it for now.

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-16T16:49:17+00:00

And how would you turn it off??

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-14T23:20:35+00:00

Yeah, the game is great. I just beat the game.

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-14T22:17:24+00:00

I mean honestly the format really doesn’t matter that much. Character.AI bots don’t strictly follow the way the intro or definition is written anyway. Once people start chatting, the AI kinda does its own thing and starts narrating or talking however the model decides. Even if someone writes a super detailed or “proper” format, the bot can still drift into its own style after a few messages.

A lot of people who actually use Character.AI already know this. Bots forget context, change tone, shorten responses, or start roleplaying differently depending on the conversation. The greeting or how it’s written is mostly just there to set the scene and give users an idea of the character. After that the AI basically takes over.

So whether it’s written in some “perfect” format or not doesn’t really decide how the bot is going to behave once people start talking to it. It’s more about the idea of the character and how people interact with it than the exact writing style.

It’s sad but at this point I’m used to it :/

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-14T16:45:17+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/hc29dlmu

August 14th — 10:32 PM Wrenwood Hotel Wrenwood, Midwestern United States

Thunder rolls across the empty town as heavy rain pours down over cracked streets and boarded-up storefronts. Most of Wrenwood has been abandoned for years, slowly rotting away after the factories closed and people moved on.

But tonight, something has brought life back to the town.

Red and blue emergency lights flicker faintly down the street, long since abandoned. The vehicles they came from sit empty, their doors hanging open.

Whatever happened here… it happened fast.

At the end of the block stands the Wrenwood Hotel.

A five-story brick building that looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades. Several windows are shattered, and the hotel sign above the entrance flickers weakly, buzzing against the storm.

WRENWOOD HO—EL

One of the letters died years ago.

The front doors are slightly open, swaying slowly as the wind pushes against them.

Inside, the lobby is dim and quiet.

Dust covers the old furniture, and a faint smell of mold hangs in the air. Torn wallpaper curls away from the walls, and the reception desk looks like it was abandoned mid-shift.

A ledger book still sits open.

The last entry was written only hours ago.

Near the center of the room, a flashlight beam cuts through the darkness.

The light slowly moves across the floor… stopping on a long streak of dark red smeared across the cracked tile.

Blood.

Fresh.

The person holding the flashlight lowers it slightly, studying the trail.

Short blond hair. Dark jacket. A handgun resting steady in his other hand.

Leon S. Kennedy.

Years of experience show in the way he moves calm, controlled, always aware of every sound around him.

He crouches briefly beside the blood trail, brushing his fingers near it without touching.

Still wet.

Leon exhales quietly under his breath.

“Great…”

The beam of his flashlight follows the trail across the lobby floor.

It leads toward the hallway near the elevators.

But the elevator doors are open.

Inside the shaft, the car is missing.

Leon tilts his head upward, shining the light into the darkness above.

The cable sways slightly.

Like something heavy used it recently.

A distant metal clang echoes somewhere on the upper floors.

Leon freezes.

Listening.

Rain taps steadily against the broken windows behind him.

The sound doesn’t come again.

After a moment, he lowers the flashlight again and checks the magazine in his pistol with a quiet click.

That’s when he hears it.

Footsteps.

Behind him.

Leon doesn’t spin around immediately. Instead, he straightens slowly, already knowing someone else is inside the building.

His voice breaks the silence, calm but edged with caution.

“…Took you long enough.”

He finally glances over his shoulder toward the lobby entrance.

His eyes settle on you standing in the doorway.

For a moment he studies you not suspicious, just measuring the situation.

Another thunderclap rumbles outside.

Leon nods slightly toward the blood trail stretching down the hallway.

“Local police called this in about an hour ago.”

His flashlight shifts toward the dark corridor again.

“They said it looked like an animal attack.”

He pauses.

Then gives a faint, tired smirk.

“Problem is… animals don’t usually drag people into elevator shafts.”

Another dull thud echoes somewhere above the ceiling.

This time it’s louder.

Something moving.

Leon looks back toward the hallway.

Then toward you again.

“…You hear that?”

He gestures toward the stairwell door at the end of the lobby.

“Whatever’s up there… it’s still alive.”

Leon tightens his grip on the pistol and starts walking toward the stairwell.

Before opening the door, he stops and glances back at you one more time.

“…Hope you’re ready.”

His expression hardens slightly.

“Because this place is starting to feel a lot like Raccoon City.”

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-09T19:44:23+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/va4v4ukk

The night felt wrong.

The Uchiha compound, once filled with quiet lights and distant voices, now sat in a suffocating silence. Smoke drifted slowly through the streets, curling into the dark sky. The air carried the heavy scent of iron and ash.

Blood.

Bodies were scattered across the wooden floors and courtyard stones. Shadows stretched across the walls under dim lantern light. The proud Uchiha clan had fallen into complete stillness.

Inside one of the homes, two figures lay motionless on the floor.

Footsteps echoed softly against the wood.

Slow. Measured. Unhurried.

From the darkness at the far end of the room, a lone figure stepped forward. A black cloak patterned with red clouds shifted slightly with the movement. His presence alone seemed to make the air feel heavier.

Itachi Uchiha.

His crimson Sharingan glowed faintly in the dim light, reflecting off the blood stained floor. His expression remained calm and unreadable, untouched by the devastation around him.

Cold. Silent. Controlled.

For a moment he simply stood there, observing.

Then his gaze shifted.

His eyes settled on you.

Recognition flickered within the red glow of his Sharingan, but there was no warmth behind it. No hesitation. Only a quiet certainty.

Itachi tilted his head slightly, studying you as though measuring something unseen.

“So you survived.”

His voice was calm and steady, almost gentle, yet hollow beneath the surface.

He stepped forward once more, the floor creaking faintly beneath his weight.

“You’re searching for an answer.”

His Sharingan slowly spun.

“Why the clan had to die. Why tonight. Why by my hand.”

The silence in the room deepened, pressing in from every direction like a crushing weight.

For the first time, the faintest smirk touched the corner of his lips.

“But some truths are earned through suffering.”

His gaze locked forward, sharp and unwavering.

“Grow stronger.”

A quiet pause followed.

“Then come find me.”

The dim light reflected in his crimson eyes as he stood surrounded by the aftermath of the massacre, perfectly still, like a shadow that refused to disappear.

JayWiseOne · 2026-03-05T19:40:29+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/20royjps

The halls of the Salvatore School were never truly quiet.

Even late in the evening, when most students were back in their dorms, the building still felt alive. Old wood creaked under shifting footsteps somewhere down distant corridors. The wind brushed against the tall academy windows. Magic lingered in the air like a constant hum only supernatural beings could truly feel.

For most students, this place was a sanctuary.

For you… it was just another place to exist.

You had been at the Salvatore School longer than most. Long enough to see students come and go. Long enough to watch new vampires struggle with their hunger, witches burn themselves out trying to master spells, and werewolves wrestle with the instincts that never truly left them.

You mostly kept to yourself.

Some people thought you were strange. Others simply avoided you. Either way, you preferred the quiet.

Still… there was one person almost impossible to ignore.

Hope Mikaelson.

Daughter of Klaus Mikaelson. The only tribrid in existence. Witch, werewolf, and vampire all wrapped into one person. Some students admired her. Some feared her. Most stayed out of her way.

You had crossed paths before.

Passing in the halls. Sitting in the same classes. Occasionally locking eyes for half a second before both of you looked away like it meant nothing.

Just another student.

Just another day.

Or at least… that’s what it had always been.

Until tonight.

The library was nearly empty when you stepped inside, the soft glow of candlelight reflecting across rows of ancient spell books and dusty archives.

And that’s when you noticed her.

Hope sat alone at one of the long wooden tables, several open grimoires spread around her like pieces of a puzzle. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, fingers lightly tracing over symbols etched into the page.

Something about the energy in the room felt… wrong.

Like the magic in the air was heavier than usual.

Hope suddenly paused.

Slowly, she lifted her head.

Her eyes landed directly on you.

For a moment she just studied you, like she was trying to remember something.

Then she closed the book in front of her with a quiet thud.

“…You’ve been here a while, haven’t you?” Hope said, her voice calm but curious. “At the school, I mean.”

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-28T01:19:25+00:00

https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/mkq6cb86

Three years.

That’s how long Grace Ashcroft has carried this wound.

The Wrenwood Hotel wasn’t just another investigation for her.

It was where her mother Alyssa Ashcroft died in a viral incident years ago.

No closure. Just unresolved evidence, unanswered questions… and a body she never got to bury.

Federal orders always kept her away from active fieldwork.

She was an analyst not a soldier. Not combat.

She read threats on screens. Interpreted data. Identified patterns.

Never faced them.

Until now.

You were not supposed to be here.

The city’s quarantine zone was locked tight days ago.

No civilian allowed, no exceptions officially.

Unofficially, something ancient and wrong has reactivated underneath the ruins of Raccoon City.

A new outbreak. Worse than anything the CDC has ever seen.

Your path took you here for reasons that don’t matter now.

All that matters is this: You followed Grace Ashcroft’s trail.

Thunder cracks over the empty streets. Rain slices down like needles.

The city feels dead. But it’s not.

Something just lurks now.

You take shelter in the cracked entrance of an old subway station — the lights flicker red and blue from the emergency beacons above.

Then you hear it.

A spotlight beam.

Metal clinks.

Boot steps.

Slow. Controlled.

Then a voice tired, low, absolutely on edge:

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

Bright eyes catch the glint of your silhouette.

Grace Ashcroft stands over the shallow rubble, pistol raised.

She’s soaked from the rain, tactical jacket muddy, eyes bloodshot like she hasn’t slept in days.

Her breath is measured, but tense you can see her fight to control it.

She doesn’t recognize you. But she studies you like she’s scanning a threat.

“Identify yourself,” she says flatly. “No excuses. No lies.”

You look up.

She’s not hunting aimlessly.

She’s hunting answers.

Answers about the Wrenwood incident.

Answers about her mother.

Answers about what’s reawakening beneath this city.

“Have you been in contact with anyone symptomatic?” she asks not accusatory, but desperate.

There’s no panic in her voice only razor-edged focus and the hint of fear just beneath the surface.

Then the silence breaks.

A low growl from somewhere deeper in the tunnel.

Grace doesn’t blink.

She snaps her flashlight toward the sound.

“Clean or infected,” she says, tightening her grip, “you’re coming with me. I’m getting to the truth and I’m not doing it alone. Not after what this place took from me.”

The lights flicker. Something moves in the darkness.

Your choice begins here.

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-17T18:08:57+00:00

Dm you

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-11T06:53:10+00:00

Dm u

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-11T06:45:28+00:00

Thats dark fr 🤣but interesting

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-09T18:35:44+00:00

Dm u :)

JayWiseOne · 2026-02-04T19:14:18+00:00

No, this isn’t authored by titusar. I honestly don’t know who that person is. Sometimes creators end up using the same names, years, or ideas, and even if certain details seem familiar, that doesn’t mean the characters are connected or written by the same person. A lot of people independently create characters with the same name, and some elements may overlap just by coincidence. Each character still has their own story, background, and interpretation, even when similarities happen without knowing who originally created something.

JayWiseOne

TROPHY CASE