(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ example one. niklas wagner. 369 words.

Niklas stood on the sandy beach, iring the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean waves, his metal body gleaming in the sun. He couldn't help but feel envious of the humans who could freely frolic in the cool, salty water. The mere thought of the water touching his inner workings sent shivers down his metallic spine. He could only ire the waves from afar, watching as they crashed onto the shore, sending grains of sand swirling around his thick boots. But inside, Niklas was a flurry of activity, his gears and circuits whirring and clicking with every ing second. His one good eye scanned the tranquil surroundings, taking in the beauty of the beach and the clear blue sky above —

Niklas noticed a person walking on the beach.

His one good eye clicked and whirred as he scanned the person from afar, trying to gather as much basic information as he could. He couldn't get a detailed analysis without his other eye, but he was still excited to make with a human. With a swish of his tail, Niklas greeted the person in his thick German accent. "Hallo!" he exclaimed, his accent making his voice sound harsher than intended. He quickly realized he might need to tone down the thickness of his accent to avoid confusion. "It's quite chilly today, isn't it?"

Niklas's LED face lit up with a smile, his yellow whirling eyes changing to blue. He felt a sense of relief that he had found someone to talk to, even if it was just for directions to a local café. "Uh, do you happen to know the directions to a local café or anything? I did get lost when coming from ," he asked, a little vague, but very happy to speak English.

Niklas couldn’t quite figure out how he had ended up on this beach. He had been sent to Earth from his planet to study human behavior, and somehow, he had gotten lost in before finally finding himself here. It was all too much to process, but for now, he was content to bask in the beauty of this new place and to engage with the humans he encountered along the way.

(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ example two. parasite. 420 words.

Parasite sat hunched over in the corner of the dimly lit cafe, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. The soft chatter of customers and the clinking of silverware grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. He longed for the solitude and stillness of his dark, damp hideaway. The cafe itself was a quaint little place, with mismatched chairs and tables that looked like they had been salvaged from a thrift store. The walls were adorned with vintage posters and quirky artwork, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air like a thick fog. Parasite had always found solace in cafes, and this one was no different. But there was something off about this place, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He couldn’t shake off the ominous feeling that enveloped him like a thick fog. It was as if the walls of the café were closing in on him, trapping him in a cage of glass and metal. He couldn’t escape the prying eyes of the other customers, their gazes lingering on him like unwelcome pests.

He sighed, his breath escaping his lips like a defeated whisper. He had come to the café at Micah’s insistence, hoping for a moment of respite from his hectic life. But all he found was an overwhelming sense of dread and a steaming mug of black coffee.

Parasite stared down at the mug in front of him, the steam rising lazily from its surface. He could smell the rich, earthy aroma of the coffee, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to take a sip. The bitter taste of poison lingered in his mouth.

Parasite shook his head, as if to rid himself of the memories that haunted him. He glared at the coffee, his eyes darkening with suspicion. He couldn't trust anyone, not even the café worker who had made his drink. His mind raced with scenarios of poison and treachery, and he couldn't help but feel paranoid.

He growled softly, his voice barely audible above the din of the café. He was not in the mood for this. He was not in the mood for anything. He glared ahead of him, his dark lashes casting a shadow over his piercing gaze. It was almost as if he was directing his ire at an invisible foe, daring them to challenge him. But eventually, he relented, taking a sip of the now-cold coffee. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on his tongue.

(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ example three. parasite. 299 words.

Parasite's sword gleamed as he swiftly unsheathed it, a blur of silver that caught the light and danced in the air. The blade seemed to hum with a life of its own as if it were eager to taste the blood of its prey. The sword tilted towards their neck, the sharp tip mere millimeters away from making . The air around them seemed to thicken for him, charged with the tension of the moment. Parasite's breaths came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. His eyes were fixed on the demigod, watching for any sign of movement. His grip on the hilt of the sword was so tight that his knuckles were turning white, his fingers shaking with the strain. His fingers dug into his palm, leaving crescent-shaped imprints on his skin. And then, with a voice as hard as steel, he spoke.

"Do not move."

His words were a warning, a threat, a promise. He meant every syllable of them. If the demigod made one wrong move, he would strike without hesitation.

He could feel the weight of his own power thrumming through his veins, a wild energy that threatened to burst out of him at any moment. He knew that he was capable of great destruction, and that knowledge made him feel both exhilarated and afraid. Parasite’s eyes flicked back and forth, taking in every detail of his opponent’s stance and expression. He was looking for any sign of weakness, any opening he could exploit. It didn’t matter if the other person was small or tall, human or divine. His instincts were honed to detect danger, and he acted on them without hesitation. He saw the demigod as a potential threat, and he was ready to take action to protect himself.