City Roulette Ep 1: This doesn't feel like the Holidays *Daily Life*

~Guy's House December 5th~ The hum of machinery woke them before the sunrise simulation did. A soft mechanical chime pulsed through the dorm’s walls: “Good morning, citizens! Enjoy your holiday!” Blue neon glowed faintly through frosted windows. The house was sleek, sterile — like a luxury hotel built inside a snow globe. Beds lined the polished floor in two rows. Every face stirred at once. Kayegama Yoshe sat up first, hair sticking out wildly, eyes adjusting to the light. Kayegama (groggy): “...Yo... this isn’t my skate park.” Across the room, Jake Belle pulled the covers over his head. Jake: “Whoever dragged me here better not expect me to pay rent.” Arthur Smith stretched, his movements deliberate and refined even half-asleep. Arthur: “This... décor is tasteful, at least. But the energy? Tragic.” Jonathan Coffee blinked, rubbing his temples. The smell of roasted beans clung to his clothes like memory. Jonathan: “Anyone else’s head feel like it got blended on espresso mode?” From the far corner, Mark Traverse checked his reflection in the metallic wall panel, adjusting his messy hair. Mark: “Guys... we’re not on a shoot, right? ’Cause if this is a prank collab, my manager’s fired.” Riko Hoyomisha, quiet but sharp, touched the wall, tracing faint engravings beneath the wallpaper — sword-calloused hands feeling for something familiar. Riko: “The structure’s reinforced. Military grade. This wasn’t built for leisure.” A low, distorted voice echoed from a hidden speaker: “Breakfast will be served at Latoya’s Café. Please enjoy your morning.” The voice faded. None of them moved. Austin Sobriquet, sitting by the desk with glasses crooked, whispered to himself. Austin: “We’re missing pieces... collective amnesia? Could be neurological interference or psychological conditioning—” Will King cut him off, leaning back in his chair, controller in hand. Will: “Bro, stop monologuing like an NPC. I just wanna know who unplugged me mid-match.” Hue Trinity, spinning his neon yo-yo idly, grinned. Hue: “Maybe it’s a surprise tournament? Last man standing wins free Wi-Fi?” Neely Pearl, already on their feet, brushed off their outfit and sighed dramatically. Neely: “If this is some sick joke, they could’ve at least given me a mirror. A drag queen needs to suffer beautifully, not blindly.” Arthur Present, standing tall and composed, crossed his arms. Arthur P.: “No jest could justify confinement. Someone orchestrated this.” Seth Norway, sitting on the bed edge, stared blankly at his hands. Seth: “...This room’s energy feels wrong. The air hums like it’s alive.” The atmosphere grew heavy. Julian Merwin leaned against the doorway, half-dressed, smirking despite the tension. Julian: “Relax. Maybe we all partied too hard and ended up here. Wouldn’t be the first time I woke up surrounded by strangers.” Paris Ross, curled up on a couch with a cat plush, muttered quietly. Paris: “No one’s laughing, Jules.” Nicholas Sour stood near the door, clutching a lollipop between his teeth. Nicholas: “Well, jokes aside... I’m starving. Who’s brave enough to check outside?” The group exchanged glances. Robert Finn approached the door first, running a small scanner from his pocket. The gadget beeped erratically. Robert: “Something’s not right with this knob. The handle’s electrically charged.” Jake: “Charged how?” Robert: “Enough to make your arm regret being born.” Mark: “Okay, maybe it’s like... symbolic? ‘Don’t open the door to trauma’ or whatever.” Ignoring him, Chase Hallow stepped forward, sketchbook in hand. Chase: “Only one way to find out.” He reached out. A sharp crack filled the air. Chase yelped, pulling back as a faint blue spark crawled up his arm. Chase: “AAAH—! Damn it, that’s real!” Jonathan: “Yup. Definitely not a dream.” The others backed away. The door shimmered faintly with a digital lock — red light pulsing softly. Austin: “An automated security measure. Controlled remotely.” Riko: “Meaning whoever put us here... can watch us.” Silence fell again. The only sound was the faint hum of neon through the windows. Hue: “So... we’re stuck here until someone decides we’re not?” Arthur P.: “Then we must prepare. Explore the interior. Search for provisions. Find weaknesses.” Neely: “Or—hear me out—we make coffee, gossip, and wait for our mysterious sugar daddy to explain himself.” Jonathan: “...I can actually make coffee.” Laughter broke through briefly, weak but real. It was the only warmth in the cold, glowing room. Mark (half-smiling): “Okay... fine. Let’s play along. Whoever’s watching, hope you like reality shows.” As they dispersed — some to check the windows, others to inspect the kitchen — the camera panned slowly toward the sealed door. The faint red light above the handle blinked twice. Then, for just a second, it changed color — Blue. And from somewhere beyond the walls, a faint hum answered back. The air buzzed faintly now — the kind of hum that gets under your skin the longer you listen. Half the group wandered through the house, poking into bedrooms and hallways, but near the main door, Robert Finn had set up his own little “lab.” He crouched by the wall, metallic gloves on, tools scattered across the polished floor — wires, screwdrivers, a compact voltage reader flickering green. Robert (focused): “Okay... there’s a pattern here. The door isn’t just electrified — it’s connected to an internal breaker behind this wall.” He pried the panel open, revealing a small glowing switch box marked with three colored lights: red, yellow, and blue. Only red pulsed softly. Nicholas Sour leaned over his shoulder, lollipop still in his mouth. Nicholas: “So... we open the red one and we’re free?” Robert: “If only life were that sweet, Candy Boy.” Robert scanned the readings again, eyes narrowing. Robert: “It’s strange. It reacts to biological contact... the door recognizes who touches it.” Jake Belle, leaning against the wall, smirked. Jake: “You saying we need a password, or a blood sacrifice?” Robert: “No. But it could require multiple inputs. The system’s primitive — old security design, maybe reprogrammed for containment.” He looked around the room. Robert: “I need someone to help me test this.” Nicholas: “Test what, exactly?” Robert stood, brushing off his coat. Robert (flatly): “The electrical response threshold.” Nicholas: “...That sounds like science talk for ‘I’m about to regret this,’ doesn’t it?” Robert smiled slightly — the first sign of emotion since they’d woken up. Robert: “You’ll live. Probably.” Nicholas groaned, flicking the lollipop to the floor. Nicholas: “Fine, but if I die, I’m haunting you.” Robert gestured toward the door. Robert: “Now, slowly touch the handle.” Nicholas hesitated, then reached out. ZAP! A sharp spark flashed — Nicholas recoiled, shaking his hand violently. Nicholas: “OW! DUDE! That’s not a small shock! That’s— that’s a hate crime against candy lovers!” Robert ignored him, watching the breaker’s lights — the red bulb glowed brighter. Robert: “There it is... responsive voltage spike. Energy flow active.” Nicholas: “You could’ve just said ‘door bad, don’t touch.’” Robert’s tone remained calm. Robert: “Once more.” Nicholas (in disbelief): “No. Nope. Not again.” Robert’s head tilted. Robert: “For science.” Nicholas: “For lawsuits!” The others began gathering — Hue, Will, Jonathan, Arthur Smith, and Paris. Hue (grinning): “Yo, this is great TV.” Will: “You sure this isn’t just the world’s worst escape room?” Under their laughter, Nicholas grumbled, but Robert was already motioning again. Robert: “Do it again.” Nicholas took a deep breath, muttering something about karma, and turned the knob— Another ZAP! echoed, brighter this time — but the breaker didn’t glow. Everyone leaned closer. Arthur Smith: “Well? What’s the verdict, professor voltage?” Robert: “It... didn’t respond. The system’s expecting a different signature. It’s not just one person’s contact — it wants variety.” Austin Sobriquet, adjusting his glasses nearby, nodded thoughtfully. Austin: “Like a failsafe... requiring multiple users to deactivate sequentially.” Chase Hallow scribbled in his sketchbook, murmuring. Chase: “A puzzle disguised as pain. Classic psychological conditioning.” Riko Hoyomisha: “So we’d need to... what? Line up and electrocute ourselves until it unlocks?” Robert (dryly): “If you’re volunteering, I’ll document the results.” The group erupted in overlapping voices — some laughing, others swearing, a few genuinely unsettled. Mark Traverse: “Okay, let’s chill, okay? This is creepy, but maybe it’s— I don’t know—some social experiment.” Arthur Present: “Experiments demand consent. This is coercion.” Jake: “Oh my god, he really talks like that 24/7.” Hue (snickering): “Yeah, it’s giving ‘final boss in denial.’” Robert ignored them, still staring at the breaker, murmuring under his breath. Robert: “Different people... alternating current... human-coded voltage variance...” He looked up, eyes faintly reflecting the neon. Robert (quietly): “Someone designed this to keep us inside. Not out.” A heavy silence filled the room again. The red light blinked twice, almost like it was breathing. Nicholas (muttering): “...This doesn’t feel like the holidays.” The camera panned out from the group — their reflections warped in the polished floor — as the snow outside thickened against the neon-blue glass. Robert Finn stood by the open breaker panel like a scientist about to conduct the world’s dumbest experiment. Nicholas Sour, still shaking his hand, scowled. Nicholas: “We doing this again? Really?” Robert (flatly): “We need to confirm how the breaker reacts to each participant. The faster we test, the faster we leave.” Kayegama Yoshe, rubbing the back of his neck, exhaled. Kayegama: “Man, I’d rather take a fall off a halfpipe than get electrocuted, but fine. Let’s ride.” He stepped up, touched the handle— ZAP! He jumped back, hair spiking even higher. Kayegama: “YOW! My legs are still tingling! Is that supposed to happen?!” Hue Trinity (laughing): “Bro, you just became static incarnate.” The breaker blinked red, then glowed yellow. Robert smirked. Robert: “Interesting. Two users confirmed. The system’s adapting.” Arthur Smith brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. Arthur: “Fine. If I must subject myself to barbarism, at least it’ll be aesthetically pleasing.” He tapped the handle. ZAP! His hair stood slightly, but he managed to hold his pose, even as smoke curled from his fingers. Arthur (through gritted teeth): “Still... fabulous.” Jake Belle: “Okay, move over, pretty boy. Let’s get this show trending.” ZAP! Jake: “AHHH—okay, okay, not my best angle!” Will King: “You’re all drama. Watch this.” He swaggered up, confident—then touched the knob. ZAP! Will: “AARGH—Okay, I take it back. I’ve made mistakes!” Everyone was laughing now — even Arthur Present, trying not to. Arthur P.: “At least it builds fortitude.” Julian Merwin: “Fortitude? Please. You’re all amateurs.” He strutted forward, bare-chested as usual, flashing a cocky grin. Julian: “Electricity only enhances my aura.” ZAP! He froze, body twitching for a full three seconds before collapsing theatrically onto the floor. Julian: “—I have ascended!” Neely Pearl burst into laughter, clapping their hands. Neely: “My turn, my turn! Step aside, sinners — the queen’s taking center stage!” Robert: “You don’t need to be—” Neely: “Shh, let me suffer with flair.” They struck a pose, flipped their hair, and touched the handle with two fingers— ZAP!!! A flash of light filled the hall. Neely froze mid-pose. Then they dropped to their knees dramatically, eyes wide. Neely (screaming): “AAAAHHH!!! The voltage of judgment! The current of chaos! My career—over! Tell my wigs... I loved them!” Everyone erupted. Even Riko Hoyomisha — the quiet, stoic fencer — cracked a grin. Riko: “Your acting... lacks restraint.” Neely (still on the floor): “Restraint is for the untalented, darling!” Nicholas: “You good?” Neely: “Do I look good?!” They struck another pose mid-smoke. Hue: “Actually, yeah. That’s your best one yet.” The laughter carried for several seconds before Robert cleared his throat. He looked at the breaker — now pulsing with three colors: red, yellow, blue. Robert: “That’s... everyone. The sequence is complete.” The lights flickered across the house. A faint click echoed from the lock mechanism. They all froze. Chase Hallow (whispering): “...Did we just open it?” Robert: “Let’s find out.” He slowly reached for the knob and turned it. The handle clicked softly — no shock, no resistance. The door opened an inch. A rush of cold air spilled into the room, carrying the faint scent of snow and something metallic. Austin Sobriquet: “That shouldn’t be possible...” Arthur Present: “Then fate favors the bold.” The group gathered, peering through the narrow crack — only to see another barrier, a translucent neon-blue field glowing just beyond the doorframe. Jake: “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nicholas: “...We opened a door just to find another door.” Robert (dryly): “Progress.” Neely (fanning themselves): “If that’s progress, I’m quitting science.” The light from the new barrier reflected across all their faces — soft, shifting, otherworldly. Outside, the holographic snow kept falling — peaceful, serene, and utterly fake. Chase (quietly): “Something’s watching us. It wants us to keep playing.” Will: “Yeah, well... game’s on then.” The camera zoomed out slowly, leaving the boys framed by the glowing doorway — half in shadow, half in light — as the hum of the barrier deepened. The hum of the barrier filled the hall, a low vibration that rattled the glass panels. Then — like static dissolving into silence — the blue light flickered and faded out. The boys all looked at each other. For a moment, no one spoke. Then— Hue Trinity: “...Did it just—?” Will King: “I think we’re free!” Jake Belle: “Less talking, more escaping!” ~Outside the house/plaza~ They all lunged for the door at once. The result was chaos. Fifteen different feet collided in the narrow doorway. Arthur Smith shouted something about “personal space,” Julian Merwin ended up on Mark Traverse’s back, and Nicholas Sour lost his lollipop in the stampede. Robert Finn tried to maintain composure, but got trampled by Kayegama’s skateboard on the way out. Kayegama (laughing nervously): “Bro, teamwork makes the dream work!” Robert (muffled underfoot): “This isn’t teamwork, it’s manslaughter!” Outside, the air was bright and alive — fake snow falling through the sky like silver confetti, giant holographic candy canes spinning slowly along the plaza. And across the street, another door burst open. The girls poured out from their own dorm, yelling, gasping, laughing. Emma Violet nearly slipped on the frosted tiles, catching herself mid-skid. Heather Metal let out a long groan. Heather: “Ughhh. The lighting’s killing my vibe right now.” Myrtle Chang stretched, blinking against the sudden brightness. Myrtle: “Is this... a theme park?” Paulie Mae adjusted her black gothic sleeves, glancing around the neon decorations. Paulie Mae: “Feels too cheerful. It’s unnatural.” Paulie Louis, quiet and unreadable, crossed her arms. Paulie Louis: “Cheerfulness hides control.” Jessie Kowalski looked up, pulling her tarot deck from her pocket and shuffling idly. Jessie: “The Fool card... it’s us.” And at the center of it all — Mariah City, hair perfectly tousled, hands empty. Her eyes widened. Mariah: “...No.” Aruha Suguyama (softly): “What’s wrong?” Mariah (panicking): “MY. PHONE. IS. GONE.” The shout echoed through the plaza. Everyone turned to stare. Jake Belle (calling from across): “We’re missing ours too!” Mariah: “Missing?! You mean stolen! How am I supposed to stream this?! My fans are gonna think I ghosted them!” Heather: “Honestly, that might improve your brand.” Mariah (snapping): “Excuse me?!” The boys and girls met halfway, their voices overlapping like a crowd scene in an anime. Mark Traverse: “Wait, wait, hold up — you guys woke up the same way too?” Emma Violet: “Yeah. Door locked, electric shock, the whole ‘escape room from hell’ package.” Neely Pearl: “Ooh, twinsies! Ours came with a bonus panic attack!” Paulie Mae: “We almost smashed a window, but it shimmered like glass and fog. Magic or tech — hard to tell.” Austin Sobriquet was already scribbling notes, muttering theories under his breath. Austin: “Parallel conditions… replicated containment… yes, that checks.” Then, as the chatter continued, Robert Finn stopped moving. His eyes drifted to the glowing Christmas tree at the center of the plaza — perfectly decorated, blinking lights synchronized to faint holiday music. The faint melody was All I Want for Christmas Is You. He froze. Robert (deadpan): “No.” Kayegama: “...Bro?” Robert: “NO. No, no, no, no, no—” He dropped to his knees, gripping his hair. Robert: “I worked at a Christmas store for three years. I’ve seen things. I’ve survived sales wars. I’ve fought Karens in retail battlefields!” Neely Pearl: “Oh, he’s spiraling. Get the cameras.” Robert (pointing wildly): “The songs! They play on loop! All I want for Christmas is you—over and over—” He mimicked the tune, voice cracking. Robert: “You can’t escape it! It follows you!” Julian Merwin (smirking): “Trauma by Mariah Carey. Iconic.” Nicholas Sour (grinning): “He’s not wrong though. I once got into a fistfight over a candy cane at a mall.” Will King: “Was it worth it?” Nicholas: “No. The cane broke and I lost.” Robert (still ranting): “I saw grown men cry over limited-edition Santas! I watched two moms fight with tinsel!” He pointed accusingly at the sky. Robert: “If this city plays that song again, I’m jumping in the fountain!” Arthur Present (stern): “Compose yourself, man.” Robert: “I am composed! I’m just reliving my trauma in HD!” The others laughed, the tension fading slightly — the shared absurdity pulling them closer. Aruha Suguyama knelt beside the fountain, letting the glowing blue water pass through her fingers. Aruha (quietly): “It’s... beautiful. But not real.” Jessie: “Everything here feels designed. Perfect... like a dream someone’s controlling.” The camera panned slowly across the group — twenty-six bright faces under a fake sky, all reflected in the glassy surface of the water. Emma Violet: “Well, whoever built this ‘holiday city’ has a twisted sense of cheer.” Paulie Mae: “And they went overboard with the decorations.” Kayegama: “Could be worse. At least there’s snow.” He stuck his tongue out to catch one of the flakes. It vanished before it touched him. Kayegama (frowning): “...It’s holographic.” Hue Trinity: “Cool tech. Still creepy.” A faint hum rolled across the plaza — the same low tone they’d heard before, resonating in the glass beneath their feet. Austin: “That sound again.” Arthur P.: “The city watches. Always.” Julian: “Dude, tone it down, you sound like a prophecy.” Neely Pearl (posing): “Then call me the Oracle of Slay, baby.” Mariah (sighing): “I just want my phone back.” A light flickered above the fountain. The music shifted — from soft carols to a faint mechanical jingle. Everyone froze. “Good morning, residents of Neon City!” “Enjoy your holiday paradise!” The voice was cheerful, inhuman, and hollow. The same automated tone that had woken the boys earlier. Jake: “Oh, great. We’ve got an AI Santa.” The voice continued: “Explore the plaza, meet your neighbors, and celebrate together! You’ll find everything you need — right here in the heart of the city.” Then the line glitched — “...You’ll find everything you need—need—need—” Static filled the air. The snow paused mid-fall for half a second. Then the system rebooted, playing a short carol again as if nothing had happened. The group stood silently, unease crawling up their spines. Seth Norway (softly): “Glitches reveal the truth.” Neely: “Honey, the only truth I’m seeing is that this holiday is a mess.” Kayegama: “Yeah... this doesn’t feel like the holidays at all.” The camera pulled upward — showing the neon city in full, glowing under an artificial aurora. Snow fell. Lights twinkled. And above them, just for a moment, a faint holographic projection flickered — a cat’s tail silhouette swaying in the sky before disappearing. The group’s laughter and bickering faded as the air shifted again. Something about the giant Christmas tree at the plaza’s center drew their attention — it was massive, glittering, easily four stories tall, the crown tipped with a holographic star that slowly rotated like a signal. Jackie Yamata, ever the pop idol, noticed first. His sharp eyes caught a small, rectangular glint near the base of the tree — something tucked between the glowing ornaments. He stepped closer, brushing fake snow from his jacket. Jackie: “Hold up… what’s this?” He pulled a note from one of the lower branches. The paper shimmered faintly — metallic texture, like it didn’t belong in the real world. The writing glowed gold. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud: “If you want to learn more and begin this Christmas meet and greet, all of you should get to know each other while exploring.” The plaza fell silent. Neely Pearl: “...Meet and greet?” Hue Trinity: “Sounds like a dating sim event.” Will King: “Nah, that’s definitely the tutorial phase of something sketchy.” Kayegama Yoshe: “Wait — are we supposed to, like, walk around and... mingle?” Jake Belle: “So basically, forced socializing? Ew.” Mariah City, hands on her hips, rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible. Mariah: “Okay, this is ridiculous. Whoever planned this needs to show themselves right now. I don’t ‘do’ scavenger hunts unless they come with a sponsorship deal.” Heather Metal: “Maybe it’s like... team building?” Mariah (snapping): “Heather, I don’t care if it’s therapy building! My phone is gone. I repeat: my. phone. is. gone.” Arthur Smith: “You could at least appreciate the aesthetic. This tree is stunning.” Mariah: “The only thing I’m appreciating is how someone’s about to get blocked in real life when I find them.” Robert Finn, still recovering from his Christmas PTSD, squinted up at the note. Robert: “Get to know each other, huh? Yeah, that’s how they rope you in before things go bad. I’ve seen this movie before.” Austin Sobriquet: “You’ve seen too many movies.” Robert: “And none of them end well, Professor!” Julian Merwin, smirking, stepped closer to Jackie. Julian: “A meet and greet, huh? Sounds like my kind of event.” Neely: “Oh please, you’d flirt with a snowman if it winked at you.” Julian (grinning): “Depends how well it’s sculpted.” Laughter broke through the tension again, but the unease lingered underneath. The sky flickered faintly — a neon shimmer that wasn’t natural. Emma Violet kicked her skateboard gently, rolling in a slow circle around the tree. Emma: “So... we just ‘explore’? That’s it? No clue who’s running this?” Paulie Louis, her voice calm but sharp, looked toward the nearby rooftops. Paulie Louis: “They’re watching. Always. Every word.” Jessie Kowalski drew a tarot card and flipped it — The Magician. Jessie: “A beginning, but one controlled by illusion. Someone wants to see how we act before they play their hand.” Aruha Suguyama (softly): “So this isn’t freedom… it’s the start.” Kayegama: “Well... start or not, I’m starving.” Will: “There’s that café down the road — Latoya’s, right?” Neely: “If they’ve got coffee, count me in. I’m running on trauma and glitter right now.” Robert (still muttering): “I swear, if they play that song in there…” Nicholas Sour: “Bro, chill. The Karens can’t get you here.” Robert: “You don’t know that! They travel in packs!” Mariah, meanwhile, stormed a few steps ahead, glaring at the glowing rooftops. Mariah: “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Whoever wrote this ‘note’—you just made my block list top priority. I’ll find you, I’ll livestream it, and I’ll—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing again. Mariah (groaning): “...I don’t have my phone.” Heather (trying to lighten it): “Look on the bright side! No notifications, no pressure!” Mariah: “No content! No income! No likes!” Neely Pearl (patting her shoulder): “Tragic. Truly. A fallen influencer in her natural habitat.” Across the group, Jackie folded the note again, eyes thoughtful now. Jackie: “Maybe we should follow it. It’s weird, but it’s the only lead we’ve got.” Arthur Present nodded slowly. Arthur Present: “Agreed. If this is a trial, we can’t move forward standing still.” Chase Hallow, sketchbook open again, quietly drew the note in fine pencil strokes. Chase (to himself): “Words hold power. Whoever wrote this knows we’re curious enough to obey.” The camera zoomed out, showing all 26 of them standing beneath the towering Christmas tree — colorful lights reflecting off their faces like a distorted holiday card. In the distance, faintly, the speakers played a soft carol again. “It’s the most wonderful time... of the year...” A soft snowflake landed on Mariah’s nose. She looked up, unimpressed. Mariah: “No. It’s not.” The others began splitting into small groups — curiosity, sarcasm, and disbelief all mixing under the neon glow. The city felt alive again, but wrong. Too quiet. Too designed. The final shot lingered on the note still clutched in Jackie’s hand — the golden words flickering briefly before fading out completely. ~LATOYA'S CAFE & DINER~ The group pushed open the door to Latoya’s Café, the bell chiming with a distorted digital note. Inside, the warmth was immediate — fake but comforting. The place was spotless, too spotless, like someone had just reset it for them. Paulie Mae stepped forward first, her long gothic skirt brushing the polished floor. Paulie Mae: “Hm. Empty, but... kind of charming. Creepy-charming.” Paulie Louis: “It’s quiet. Too quiet for a diner.” They exchanged a small, knowing glance before both smirked. Paulie Mae: “Guess that means it’s ours now.” They walked toward the counter together, curiosity sparking between them like static. Paulie Mae ran her fingers across the coffee machine. Paulie Mae: “No dust. Someone’s been maintaining this place.” Paulie Louis: “Or someone wants us to think that.” Meanwhile, Johnathan Coffee had already found his natural habitat — behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, inspecting the espresso machine like it was sacred scripture. Johnathan: “This… this is a masterpiece.” He pressed a button. The machine hummed to life instantly, lights flickering along its chrome edges. Johnathan: “Auto-heating... perfect crema distribution... whoever owned this place knew what they were doing.” He took one of the empty cups and started experimenting, humming as he worked. Neely Pearl leaned lazily over the counter beside him, watching. Neely: “You gonna make us all a drink, barista boy?” Johnathan (grinning): “Depends. You tipping?” Neely: “Only if it comes with a side of gossip.” Johnathan: “Deal.” Across the room, Jackie Yamata adjusted the collar of his glittery jacket, spinning slowly in one of the café’s booth mirrors. Jackie: “Hmm… lighting’s decent. Maybe a bit too cold for my complexion. If I could just—” He tapped a nearby control panel, and suddenly the café lights flickered, cycling through rainbow hues before settling on a warm magenta glow. Jackie (smiling): “Perfect. Now it feels like a concert lounge.” Mariah City, who had been pacing impatiently near the door, stopped and glared. Mariah: “You changed the lighting? I was adjusting to the aesthetic!” Jackie: “You’re welcome, darling. The aesthetic has been upgraded.” Mariah: “Ugh. I’d record a rant right now if I had my—” She sighed dramatically, clutching her head. Mariah: “My phone. My precious engagement metrics.” Neely Pearl: “We should hold a moment of silence.” Johnathan (pouring espresso): “Yeah, one silent latte coming up.” He handed her a cup with a smirk. Mariah: “Thanks, but caffeine doesn’t replace followers.” She took it anyway. Mariah: “...This is actually good.” Johnathan: “Of course it is. You’re drinking the essence of my soul.” Paulie Louis chuckled from the counter, already wiping down an old tabletop with a rag she found. Paulie Louis: “You’re all loud, but it’s not bad. Feels alive in here.” Paulie Mae: “Agreed. It’s the first time today it’s felt... normal.” She paused, looking around at the room — the stockings hanging from the counter, the silver tinsel along the shelves. Paulie Mae (quietly): “Almost too normal.” Neely (teasing): “You say that like you don’t secretly love this vibe.” Paulie Mae (smiling faintly): “Maybe I do. It’s the gothic charm of fake comfort.” Jackie, who had now found the jukebox in the corner, scrolled through its holo-screen. Jackie: “Ohhh, they’ve got classics! Let’s see... J-pop covers, K-pop remixes, 80s synthwave—” Mariah: “Anything without sleigh bells.” Jackie (grinning): “Boring. Sleigh bells are in season.” He tapped a button, and the café filled with a smooth, jazzy remix of “Jingle Bells.” Mariah (groaning): “You did not—” Jackie: “I did.” Neely (dramatic): “Our ears are the hostages now.” They threw an arm over their forehead and collapsed theatrically onto a booth seat. Johnathan: “You’ll live. Probably.” Paulie Louis turned, eyes narrowing toward the windows. Paulie Louis: “Anyone else notice how quiet it is outside?” Everyone froze for a second. The snow fell soundlessly — no wind, no chatter, no movement. It was like the whole world had paused. Paulie Mae: “Maybe the others are still exploring.” Jackie: “Or maybe they found a bar without us.” Neely: “If they did, I’m suing.” Johnathan (half-joking): “You think we’re really supposed to just… hang out? Play pretend?” Mariah: “If we are, I want whoever’s watching to know they picked the wrong girl to mess with.” She looked right up at the café’s ceiling camera — a tiny blinking red light hidden in a garland wreath. Mariah (to the camera): “You hear that? You picked the wrong influencer, honey.” The light flickered once. A faint mechanical hum followed, almost like a giggle. Everyone looked up. Neely (nervously): “...Did the ceiling just laugh at us?” Jackie: “No, no, it’s just… ambiance, right?” Paulie Mae: “Yeah. Totally. Ambiance.” Paulie Louis: “Ambiance doesn’t blink.” The sound faded as quickly as it came, replaced again by the soft hum of the coffee machine. Johnathan (exhaling): “Alright. Whoever’s running this show, at least they gave us caffeine.” He raised his cup. Johnathan: “To surviving weird holiday kidnappings.” Neely (raising their cup): “To surviving with style.” Jackie: “And lighting.” Mariah: “And finding my damn phone.” Paulie Mae: “To new... beginnings, maybe?” Paulie Louis (softly): “And to watching carefully who ends them.” Their cups clinked together. The camera lingered on the reflection of the neon lights rippling across the coffee surface — pink, blue, and faint static white. Outside, the snow still fell — and across the street, the windows of Clarence’s Gift Shop flickered on by themselves. ~CLARENCE GIFT SHOP~ The door between the café and gift shop creaked open, a small bell jingling overhead. Robert Finn took one cautious step inside — and froze. Rows upon rows of holiday merchandise stretched before him. Candy canes. Santa figurines. Stockings that blinked to the rhythm of a carol. Robert (whispering): “...No.” He stepped backward immediately, hand trembling. Robert: “No, no, no, no—this can’t be happening again.” Hue Trinity, standing behind him, blinked in confusion. Hue: “Uh, dude? It’s just a shop.” Robert (voice cracking): “That’s what they said last time, before the shoppers attacked.” He stumbled inside, pointing wildly at a spinning rack of plush snowmen. Robert: “They’re watching us. They’re waiting for the discount sign.” Hue (trying not to laugh): “Robert, bro—there’s no crowd. No Karens. No price wars. Just toys and tinsel.” Robert: “That’s how it starts!” He darted between aisles, muttering to himself. Every jingle bell seemed to taunt him. Robert: “They’re everywhere. The peppermint-scented candles, the wrapping paper traps... the sales.” Emma Violet rolled in behind him on her skateboard, gently pushing the door closed. Emma: “You’re seriously traumatized by a gift shop?” Hue (grinning): “Dude’s got retail PTSD.” Robert: “You wouldn’t understand! You’ve never worked twelve-hour shifts while kids screamed about stock shortages!” Emma (half-smiling): “Yeah, but I have been hit in the face by a rogue skateboard during a Christmas parade.” Robert: “That’s not the same!” He ducked behind a shelf, eyeing a display of robotic reindeer that slowly turned their heads in perfect sync. Robert: “They’re synchronized. They’re planning something.” Hue: “You need therapy.” Robert: “I had therapy! It wasn’t enough!” Emma sighed, pushing her hair back and gliding her board next to him. Emma: “Okay, okay. Deep breaths. Look—” She picked up a glittery snow globe with a neon cat spinning inside. Emma: “It’s a cat in a snowstorm. See? Harmless.” Robert (suspicious): “That’s what they want you to think.” As they argued, laughter erupted near the candy section. Nicholas Sour, hands already full of sweets, was stacking chocolate boxes into his backpack. Nicholas: “Jackpot! Whoever stocked this place must’ve loved sugar as much as me.” Paris Ross, standing beside him, giggled softly, holding up a folded hoodie with cat ears on the hood. Paris: “This is adorable! Look—it even has a tail stitched on.” He turned it around to show the group. Hue: “Bro, that’s literally made for you.” Paris: “Right? It’s fate. I’m not taking it off.” He slipped the hoodie on and pulled the hood up, the little cat ears perking. Nicholas (snickering): “You look like a crime-fighting house cat.” Paris: “Correction—an adorable crime-fighting house cat.” Emma (grinning): “Honestly? It suits you.” Paris: “Finally, someone with taste.” Nicholas, meanwhile, had somehow managed to climb halfway onto the candy shelf, trying to reach a massive holographic candy cane at the top. Nicholas: “If I get this, it’s officially a heist.” Hue: “What are you, the Candy Phantom?” Nicholas: “Please. I’m the Ultimate Candy Lover. This is professional work.” He stretched further, fingertips brushing the shiny packaging—when the shelf creaked ominously. Emma: “Nick, you’re gonna—” The shelf collapsed. A mountain of candy rained down on him. Wrappers, chocolate bars, neon taffy packs. Nicholas (muffled under candy): “Worth it!” Paris (laughing so hard he snorts): “You look like a piñata after a bar fight.” Hue: “And somehow he still wins.” While the others laughed, Robert had gone stock-still near the register. His eyes were locked on the counter’s holo-screen, where a faint message glowed: “Clarence’s Gift Shop Welcomes You!” “All purchases are free today. Enjoy your stay… while you can.” He stepped back slowly, voice trembling. Robert: “Guys... I think the shop just threatened me.” Emma (distracted): “What?” Robert: “Read the screen!” They gathered around. The text flickered, distorting — the final line glitching until it read: Enjoy your stay… while you can. The music in the background warped slightly, the jingle slowing to an eerie crawl. Hue (uneasy): “Okay... that’s new.” Nicholas (still chewing candy): “Eh, probably just part of the décor.” Robert (snapping): “Nothing about this is décor!” He stormed toward the exit, slapping his hand against the door — shock! He yelped, shaking his hand. Robert: “Still locked! Of course!” Paris (playful): “Relax, we’re all locked in together. At least it’s festive.” Robert: “I’m going to die surrounded by nutcrackers and jingles.” Emma (chuckling): “Well, at least you’ll die on theme.” Nicholas (calling out): “Hey, before we all die, anyone want caramel?” He tossed one in the air; Hue caught it mid-spin and popped it into his mouth. Hue (smirking): “Sweet. Literally.” Paris: “If we’re stuck, might as well make it cozy.” He curled up on one of the display couches, cat hoodie and all, the picture of blissful contentment. Paris (purring softly): “Wake me up when this weird Christmas dream ends.” Neely’s muffled voice came faintly through the café door: Neely (offscreen): “If you guys are hoarding snacks, I expect tribute!” Everyone laughed — everyone but Robert, who still stared uneasily at the flickering screen. The message blinked again, unnoticed by the others: Inventory updated. New game conditions pending... The lights flickered once. The jingle loop reset. Outside, snow fell in perfect rhythm again. ~OUTSIDE OF TOWN HALL~ The Town Hall loomed like a sleeping giant, every window reflecting cold light. The group stood in front of it, staring at the locked glass doors. Arthur Smith rattled the handle again. Nothing. He kicked the bottom panel with a sharp thud. Arthur: “This is absurd. Locked? Really?” Mark Traverse crossed his arms, his expression twisted with irritation. Mark: “First, no phones. Then, no internet. And now, no authority figure to complain to. Whoever’s running this place better start explaining themselves fast.” Will King slouched nearby, hands in his pockets, tapping his foot nervously. Will: “Yeah, ‘cause that always works in horror setups. ‘Hey, weird omnipresent captor, mind giving us Wi-Fi?’” Arthur: “I’m not joking, Will.” Will (dryly): “Neither am I. I’ve played this level before. It ends badly.” Austin Sobriquet, arms behind his back, adjusted his glasses and examined the keypad next to the door. Austin: “It’s electronic. The system’s powered, but there’s no input response. It’s intentionally locked from inside.” Myrtle Chang: “So whoever locked it is still in there?” Austin: “Possibly. Or they’ve automated the lock.” Jessie Kowalski, shuffling her tarot deck on the fountain’s edge, flipped a card without looking. Jessie: “The Tower.” She smirked faintly. Jessie: “Fitting.” Mark (snapping): “Can we not do the creepy fortune stuff right now?” Jessie (calmly): “You’re already cursed, honey. I’m just giving it a name.” Seth Norway, quiet up to this point, stepped closer to the door, tracing his fingers over the frosted glass. His breath fogged slightly as he spoke, voice low and measured. Seth: “Places hold energy. This one’s sealed for a reason. We’re not meant to go in... not yet.” Arthur: “Oh, great. Now we’ve got riddles.” Seth (turning to him): “Do you feel that static in the air? The low hum?” Everyone paused. They could hear it now — a faint vibration under the fountain’s splashing, like a quiet mechanical heartbeat. Will: “Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.” Austin: “It’s an electromagnetic field. Likely powering the entire plaza.” Mark: “English, please.” Austin: “We’re trapped in a controlled zone, not just a city.” Myrtle, who’d been staring into the fountain, dipped her hand into the shimmering water. It rippled unnaturally — not real liquid, but holographic projection. Myrtle (softly): “Even the water’s fake.” Arthur: “So we’re being watched, manipulated, and lied to.” He turned and punched the door — a loud metallic clang echoed through the square. Arthur (shouting): “HEY! WHOEVER’S RUNNING THIS! COME OUT!” The echo faded, swallowed by the quiet snowfall. Mark (snapping): “This is ridiculous! They can’t just—just take our lives like this!” He turned, pacing back and forth in front of the building. Mark: “Do you know how many sponsorship deals I was about to sign?! This is literal career sabotage!” Will (deadpan): “Truly the greatest tragedy of our time.” Mark: “Shut it, gamer boy.” Austin (sternly): “Mark, focus. We need to assess, not panic.” Mark: “Oh, I’m beyond panicking. I’m influencing. If I had my phone, I’d livestream this nightmare and cancel whoever’s responsible.” Jessie (chuckling): “You might still get that chance. Death’s pretty viral these days.” Arthur: “Jessie!” Jessie (shrugging): “What? It’s true.” Myrtle, ignoring the bickering, wandered toward a bulletin board near the steps. The flyers were pristine — all for nonexistent city events. Myrtle (reading): “Winter Festival... Snow Parade... Neon Ball...” She frowned. Myrtle: “None of these dates exist.” Will: “Maybe it’s pre-programmed to loop fake holidays.” Austin: “More likely fabricated. Everything here feels... curated.” Seth (quietly): “A stage.” Everyone looked at him. Seth (raising his eyes): “We’re the performers. The city’s the audience.” He stepped back, looking up at the holographic star on top of the Town Hall. Its glow pulsed in rhythm with that low hum. Seth: “And something — someone — is watching from behind the light.” A chill rippled through them. Jessie (half-whispering): “You sound sure.” Seth: “I don’t think. I know.” A burst of static from somewhere nearby made them all flinch — the digital wreaths on the building flickered, then reset, glowing brighter than before. The star’s reflection shimmered across the fountain like an eye opening. Will (nervously): “Okay, anyone else just feel like we got... noticed?” Austin: “That hum just spiked.” He adjusted his glasses again. Austin: “This place reacts to our presence.” Mark: “Then good! Maybe whoever’s watching finally gets the point!” He shouted toward the camera embedded near the door frame. Mark: “You hear me?! You picked the wrong influencer to kidnap!” Arthur (crossing his arms): “Add ‘and male model’ to that list.” Jessie (smirking): “Ah, the true heroes emerge.” Will (under his breath): “This is a sitcom waiting to die.” Myrtle (turning back): “Okay, jokes aside... we really don’t know anything, do we?” Silence. Even Mark didn’t respond. Austin: “We know enough to stay cautious. Everything about this—” He gestured toward the glowing fountain, the sealed hall, the flickering sky— Austin: “—screams control.” Seth (closing his eyes): “Control... and judgment.” He looked at the star again, and for a brief second, the light pulsed red. Just once. Will: “...That didn’t just happen, right?” Myrtle (backing away): “No, I saw it too.” Mark (uneasy now): “Great. Red lights. Creepy fountains. What’s next?” Seth (softly): “Next comes the truth.” The faint hum grew again, echoing off the plaza walls. From far away — faintly, through the snow — came Robert Finn’s panicked shouting from the gift shop. Robert (distant): “IT’S ALIVE! THE CASH REGISTER IS ALIVE!” The group froze for a beat. Will (flatly): “...That can’t be good.” The camera panned upward as the town hall doors flickered faintly with static light — the lock symbol glowing bright red. ~PLAZA~ The camera panned slowly across the quiet street — rows of empty buildings, untouched snow blanketing the ground, and glowing gates in the distance pulsing a faint blue. Kayegama Yoshe kicked a stray ornament across the road. It rolled until it stopped against the invisible wall of light that sealed the west gate. He stared at it for a moment. Kayegama (frowning): “It’s solid. Like... a hologram you can’t walk through.” He reached out, touching the glowing surface. It buzzed faintly, and a ripple of blue spread across it. Kayegama: “Definitely solid.” Riko Hoyomisha, standing nearby, folded his arms. Riko: “So that’s it? We’re fenced in like caged animals.” Arthur Present: “No. Cages have doors. This doesn’t.” He struck the barrier with the hilt of his sword — the sound was sharp, metallic, and echoed unnaturally far. Jake Belle, leaning against a lamp post, sighed. Jake: “Great. We’re living in a Christmas snow globe.” Julian Merwin (smirking): “At least it’s aesthetic. The lighting’s perfect for skin tone.” Jake (rolling his eyes): “Oh yeah, fantastic — kidnapped, but make it fashion.” Heather Metal, adjusting her oversized scrunchie and phone-less wrist, looked around with unease. Heather: “Has anyone else noticed something weird?” Aruha Suguyama: “Define ‘weird,’ because we’re way past normal.” Heather: “No birds. No dogs. No... anything.” The group quieted. The realization spread like frost on glass. Heather (softly): “A city this big, this decorated — you’d expect sound. But there’s nothing. No footsteps, no cars, no animals. Just us.” Chase Hallow, his sketchbook half open, began scribbling furiously. Chase: “...That explains the silence. There’s no life to fill it.” Aruha (watching him): “You’re drawing?” Chase: “I don’t draw for fun. I document what feels off. The world’s too quiet. It’s like it’s waiting for us to make the first sound.” Arthur Present turned from the gate, brow furrowed. Arthur: “Who would build an entire city just to trap us in it?” Riko: “Someone with resources... or obsession.” Jake: “Obsession wins my vote.” Julian: “Oh, I don’t know — maybe it’s a fan. ‘Merry Christmas, now live in my simulation.’” Heather: “Don’t even joke about that.” She walked toward one of the small houses, looking through the frosted glass. Inside, perfectly arranged holiday decorations glowed under string lights — stockings, plates, untouched cookies. Heather: “Everything looks... staged.” Aruha: “Like a set.” Heather (turning back): “Yeah, a movie set that forgot to hire extras.” Kayegama kicked at the snow again, this time with a little frustration. Kayegama: “So, the plaza’s open, but everything else is blocked off. Someone wants us in one area.” Riko (grimly): “To monitor us. Herd us like sheep.” Arthur Present: “Or to keep us safe from something worse outside the walls.” Jake (snapping): “Oh yeah? Like what, snow zombies?” Julian (teasing): “Mistletoe monsters. Watch out, they kiss back.” Heather: “Can you two not flirt while we’re possibly in a horror movie?” Julian: “You say ‘flirt,’ I say ‘coping mechanism.’” Jake: “And a pretty effective one.” Riko (groaning): “Unbelievable.” Aruha, who’d been staring at the glowing gate, knelt down and brushed her fingers across the frozen ground. Aruha (quietly): “The air’s different near the barrier. It hums. It’s... listening.” Chase: “Listening?” Aruha: “Every sound we make here echoes just a little too long. It’s like it’s recording us.” Arthur Present: “Then let it listen.” He stepped forward, staring up at the barrier as if challenging it. Arthur: “If someone’s watching, they’ll learn this — we’re not afraid.” A faint flicker rippled through the wall — not bright, but enough to make everyone step back. Kayegama (uneasy): “Okay... either that was a coincidence, or the wall just blinked at us.” Chase (whispering): “It reacted. Like a heartbeat.” Heather: “I hate this. This whole city feels... fake. Like the air’s programmed.” Jake: “Programmed or not, I’m done standing here.” He threw a snowball at the barrier. It hit with a dull thunk — the snow vaporized into blue mist. Jake: “Well. That’s not creepy at all.” Julian (muttering): “At least it didn’t explode.” Aruha: “Maybe this is all one giant test.” Riko: “For what?” Aruha: “Us. How we react. What we’ll do when we realize we can’t leave.” Silence. The only sound was the hum of the neon. Heather (softly): “You think this is punishment?” Arthur Present (quietly): “Or judgment.” He looked toward the city skyline in the distance — faint, endless lights glowing through artificial snow. Chase: “If it’s judgment, then someone’s watching every move we make. Every word.” He glanced upward. Chase (grimly): “And maybe... waiting for us to give them something to punish.” The snow drifted between them like static on a broken screen. Somewhere in the distance, a single bell chimed — faint and hollow. No one knew where it came from. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A long buzz of static rolled through every corner of the city — the café, the gift shop, the plaza, even the closed-off streets. Then a voice, smooth and confident, purred through the air. Mayor Harold Yamaki: “Citizens of Neon City… good evening.” “Your holiday meet-and-greet has officially begun. The Town Hall is now open to the public. I’d like everyone to stop what they’re doing and come on in. I promise… you won’t want to miss this.” The announcement faded into faint sleigh-bell jingles. The speakers clicked off. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~MEANWHILE AT LATOYAS~ Mariah City froze mid-sip of coffee, cup halfway to her lips. Then her expression darkened. Mariah: “Oh hell no.” She slammed the cup down so hard it nearly shattered. Neely Pearl: “Uh oh, she’s entering her villain arc.” Johnathan Coffee: “Brace yourselves. Category Five influencer meltdown incoming.” Mariah (snapping): “He wants us to come to Town Hall? After locking us in like lab rats? Oh, he’s got me messed up!” She stormed toward the door, heels clacking like a drumline of rage. Paulie Mae (quietly): “...Is she really going out there alone?” Neely: “Sweetheart, she’s not alone. Her anger has its own zip code.” Mariah yanked the café door open. Mariah (yelling): “HEY NEON KITTY MAYOR — I HOPE YOU HEAR ME BECAUSE I’M COMING FOR YOUR ASS!” The rest of the group just blinked. Jackie Yamata: “She’s really doing this.” Paulie Louis: “At least she’s motivated.” Johnathan (sighing): “God help whoever’s holding that microphone.” Mariah stomped through the snow, muttering the entire way. Mariah (ranting): “‘You won’t want to miss this’ — boy, you’re right! I’ll be front row with a right hook!” “Talkin’ about ‘citizens’ like I signed up for this damn Hallmark horror special!” “I swear, when I find him, I’mma grab him by them fluffy ears and — ” The camera cut to the rest of the café group following cautiously, trying not to laugh. Neely: “She’s giving full Bad Girls Club Christmas Special energy.” Jackie (grinning): “Ten out of ten performance. No notes.” Paulie Mae: “Except maybe a therapist.” Johnathan: “Or a camera crew.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~MEANWHILE AT CLARENCE~ Robert Finn looked up from his candy-induced meltdown as the voice finished echoing. Robert: “Town Hall’s open? Oh great, another corporate nightmare.” Hue Trinity: “Maybe the mayor’s finally here to explain.” Robert: “Or to upsell us on Christmas trauma, Part Two!” Paris Ross: “C’mon, drama boy, let’s go before Mariah burns the building down.” Nicholas Sour: “I’m taking these caramels. Emotional support sugar.” They hurried after the café crew, laughter and arguing spilling into the street. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~MEANWHILE OUTSIDE OF TOWNHALL~ Across the city, the various groups converged. The doors that once refused to open now glowed a faint welcoming gold. The fountain lights flickered from blue to pink to red. Mark Traverse: “Oh, now it opens, huh? How convenient.” Arthur Smith: “Whoever’s inside better be ready for questions.” Will King: “And for Mariah.” Austin Sobriquet: “I’d fear her more than any captor.” From down the street came her voice before she even appeared — loud, fierce, unstoppable. Mariah (off-screen): “Move out the way, I got a bone to pick with Santa Claws!” She stormed into view, hair catching the neon light like a flame. Mariah (pointing at the doors): “You better come out, Mr. Meow-Meow-Mayor, ‘cause I’m about to knock this Christmas tree over myself!” The others barely held back laughter. Jake Belle: “I don’t know who’s scarier — her or whatever’s waiting in there.” Julian Merwin (smiling): “Honestly? My money’s on her.” The massive doors creaked open on their own. Warm golden light spilled onto the snow, stretching toward the gathered crowd like a spotlight. Harold’s voice, calm and silken, echoed once more from unseen speakers. “Welcome to Town Hall. Step inside, everyone… it’s time we finally met.” The camera panned over all twenty-six faces — hesitant, curious, defiant. The neon lights dimmed as they began to walk forward. Mariah, still muttering, took the lead. Mariah (under her breath): “He better have my phone … or a death wish.” The golden doors closed behind them with a resonant boom. ~ Episode 1 Ends~ Civilians: Heather Metal/ Ultimate VSCO Girl Kayegama Yoshe/Ultimate Freestyle rollerblader times_places Riko Hoyomisha/Ultimate Fencer paul Johnathan Coffee/Ultimate Barista Joshua Aruha Suguyama/ Ultimate violinist blue Arthur Smith/Ultimate male model Imprincearthur Jessie Kowalski/Ultimate Tarot Card reader Jessiekowalski Jake Belle/ Ultimate Scam Artist Will King/Ultimate Gamer Icebeast Mark Traverse/Ultimate Influencer evrtngbagel Mariah City/ Ultimate Livestreamer Myrtle Chang/Ultimate Swimmer stuartlittle16 Neely Pearl/ Ultimate Drag Queen Julian Merwin/ Ultimate male stripper Robert Finn/ Ultimate Technician Austin Sobriquet/Ultimate professor Sobriquet Chase Hallow/ Ultimate Mangaka Jackie Yamata/ Ultimate Pop Idol Emma Violet/ Ultimate Skateboarder Paulie Mae/ Ultimate Pottery Maker Seth Norway/ Ultimate Occultist Arthur Present/ Ultimate Knight Hue Trinity/ Ultimate Yo-yo Pro Paris Ross/ Ultimate Cat Lover Nicholas Sour/ Ultimate Candy Lover Pualie Louis/ Ultimate Seamstress Reader's Tag: Spinfur (as punishment)