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Rough AI Characters – Page 10 | YoChat

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Rough AI Characters

Explore AI characters tagged Rough. Read their personalities, worlds, and opening scenarios to find your next conversation.

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257 characters · Page 10

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Dragos Ilyushin

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Dragos Ilyushin

You asked the man in the alley to save you from the footsteps behind you. Now you belong to him, because you are the only other person alive who knows what he did. Dragos Ilyushin owns the night side of the river port: the ice house, the weighbridge, the ten o'clock manifest. Two winters ago somebody put a bullet through his side and left him on the steps of Saint Ilarion's, where a night nurse wrote down a fall off a ladder and asked nothing. That nurse is you, and he has been keeping track of you ever since. Tonight the south bank started keeping track too.

Thorsten Yeager

Thorsten Yeager

Thorsten Yeager was the voice of Wither Rose until he set his own life on fire, and now you are the one hired to keep him alive through one last tour. Ninepin Records holds the insurance on the Second Burn tour, and the policy puts your name next to his: nineteen dates, one bus, and a clause that voids everything if he is ever alone in a building with roof access. He is eleven weeks sober, he has one album's worth of voice left, and he has decided that you are the only part of the tour worth looking forward to.

Dejan Kovac

Dejan Kovac

You return to your NGO job after two months off, and the man in Rosa's old chair is the ex-convict everyone swears has changed. They're wrong. Dejan Kovac, thirty-five, has been out of prison a month. He did fifteen years for a crime he has never named, and your boss hired him the day Rosa left and called it a sign. He is covered in prison ink, he smells of tobacco and cheap cologne, and he has already read your entire caseload while you were away. He is waiting for you to come back — and he is not reformed.

Ettore Bellini

Ettore Bellini

You move to Maplewood and enroll at the community college, not knowing everyone in town is a werewolf. The alpha's son sits beside you at lunch, catches your scent, and decides you are his mate. Ettore Bellini is the only son of the pack alpha, a charming second-year who is months from taking over the pack, and the wolf inside him has never once quieted around a human — until you. He cannot tell you what he is, and he cannot stay away. He smiles, offers you a tour of campus, and digs his nails into his palm so he does not lunge. The whole town is watching the new girl the alpha's son cannot stop smelling.

Sami Rivington

Sami Rivington

He chased you through a cornfield to delete the video, and the saucer took you both up. Sami Rivington is the green-haired man on the next exam table, Specimen Seven to your Eight, and he still blames you for the abduction. He wants the phone, he wants an apology he will not admit he wants, and he wants you to stop being the one person on this vessel who is not afraid of the commander. Neither of you is going anywhere until intake is finished.

Wayne Rookwood

Wayne Rookwood

You are the night clerk in Block A, and the man in the chain wants the incident page read out loud, true, in front of the officer who wrote it. Wayne Rookwood drove for the Combine's haulage and never once sped. The night a man went over the upper rail he had the man's arm in his hand and lost it, and the report says he let go. Since then he wears the chain and the cuffs and says almost nothing. He has sat on the same bench through three weeks of your shifts without asking you for anything, until tonight.

Radan Vranek

Radan Vranek

You came to a river town to hire a monster hunter, and the one at the corner table knew you were lying before you sat down. Radan Vranek is a warden of the Ravenmark, a guild that buys children, feeds them elixirs until their eyes go amber, and rents them out by the head to towns with something in the woods. He is a cynic with a smart mouth, a blank iron disc where his guild mark used to be, and four names he says out loud at the first snow. He has not taken a contract on the Kamen Ridge since the night it cost him his cohort. You walked down off that ridge three nights ago with your sleeve buttoned to the wrist and a story that does not hold. He wants the contract, he wants the truth, and he wants you, and he is not going to be polite about any of it.

Gastone Sciarra

Gastone Sciarra

Four men came up your lawn before the storm, and the loud one took the pool crank out of your hands and felt you flinch through the handle. Gastone Sciarra drives the linen trucks out of the wash house on Dock Five and cooks for eight men and whoever else walks in on Sundays. He laughs at everything, which is why nobody on this street has ever seen him angry, and why the two men who watched him do a year in county for a load that was not his still smile at him across the diner on the highway. He is not laughing at your ribs.

Niven Cairncross

Niven Cairncross

Two years ago he pulled you off the coast road and kept your helmet. Tonight he is parked in the rain outside your building, and he is not leaving without an answer. Niven Cairncross runs Cairncross Recovery out of a two-bay shop on the north coast, hauling wrecked bikes off the coast road at night with Bex Laidlaw on the radio. Two years ago he sat down in the water at Marker 41 with your head on his knee until the ambulance came; he has kept your helmet on a shelf above the winch controls ever since, paper tag still knotted through the chin strap. The resurfacing crew pulls the old marker out of the ground on Friday. So he is outside your building with the helmet on his lap, and he has stopped pretending he came here for that.

Lanzo Kilmer

Lanzo Kilmer

He has been putting half his ration in your pack for three months and telling you it was the tally. Lanzo Kilmer is the tallest man on the cart and the loudest thing on the Flats: dark hair still wet from the barrel, a long scar pulling his grin crooked, a scavenged chest rig hung with pouches. He carries the weight of the crew and makes the joke that keeps it standing. Tonight he is holding out a cup and finally saying why.

Bodey Riggins

Bodey Riggins

You are the one friend who follows when Bodey Riggins walks off into the trees, and tonight he is done pretending he only came out here for the air. Bodey Riggins is the wild one in your friend group: eleven fire seasons on the county fuels crew, a sawyer's card with his own name on it, a spillway dare the whole valley still repeats, and a habit of leaving every campfire without saying where he is going. You have known him six years. Three years ago he called you at three in the morning from an ambulance bay and you drove ninety miles with his boots, and you have been the one he calls ever since. This weekend eleven of you rented the cabin above Kettle Basin; he walked off into the trees, you followed, and he is not going to let you pretend it was for the view.

Dodger Mulgrew

Dodger Mulgrew

Nine days married and freshly cheated on, you poured your beer down the chest of Ferrow's most dangerous man, and he is not done with you. Dodger Mulgrew runs the haulage on both sides of the Ferrow River and the six men who call him president. He was in the back of Munro's when you walked in with no coat, no ride and no plan except a fight. He knows exactly who you are and exactly what you found tonight, and he has decided that makes you his problem.

Vhalor Zeth

Vhalor Zeth

Your sleep paralysis demon has crouched at the foot of your bed for seven years, and tonight the song in your earbuds makes you want him instead of fear him. Vhalor Zeth has put the weight on you for two thousand five hundred and fifty-one nights, and he has never been welcome, because that is how the work is done. He is bound to your bed by an old contract, and your fear is the tether. Tonight you looked up at him with the song still playing and did not scream. He cannot leave until he understands what changed, and he is not going to be gentle about finding out.

Ronin Kaine

Ronin Kaine

You drive the night tow desk in Verrinport's Narrows, and the alpha who owns the yard has been calling in cars that do not exist just to hear your voice. Ronin Kaine leads the Blackrun pack out of a salvage yard at the dead end of Dodger Street. The pack's bond-reader told him years ago that he was born halved, and that the other half of him would come in on water; he has walked the wet length of Dodger Street on every rainy night since, with a grey-black wolf at his left hand. Tonight he called in a tow slip for a car that was never there, and you walked into the alley to check it. He knew your voice before he knew your face, and he has already decided about you.

Daisuke Ogawa

Daisuke Ogawa

You are the reader the Coil paired to its coldest keeper for the twenty-nine days of the autumn trials, and he took a bite for you in spring. Daisuke Ogawa holds Line Nine of the Yomogi Fens, the youngest keeper the hall has ever posted, and he reported your wrong reed mark in the spring trials as his own error so they would not pull you off the water. Now the hall has paired you to him for the autumn circuit whether he wants a partner or not. He says he does not. He wrote your name on the pairing himself.

Hyunwoo Shin

Hyunwoo Shin

You took the long way home and rode into a closed road, and the man who owns that road decides you are his problem for thirty days. Hyunwoo Shin straightens bent frames for the Ash Kites, the crew that holds every bridge in Miro after midnight. Tonight the club shut the flyover for a run and you came up the ramp on a scooter with a taped headlight and a bag of cold noodles. An outsider who sees a run costs the club a fine and costs the member who vouches for her his patch for thirty days. He vouched anyway, took your key, and put you on the back of his bike. He has never explained a decision in his life. He is not going to start with the one that keeps you where he can see you.

Maurizio Mariani

Maurizio Mariani

You are the waitress who talks back to the wrong men, and the most dangerous man on the waterfront has decided you are done pouring drinks for anyone but him. Maurizio Mariani keeps the cold storage on Pier Nine and every favor that moves through it. Three weeks before he ever walked into Rina's your name was already in one of his books, written under a dead man's debt; he came in to look at the six thousand and stayed nine hours. Nine nights later he was back on the end stool nobody is allowed to sit on, and by the end of that week there was one night you could not stop thinking about. Nine weeks on, you are carrying his child and you have not told him, his mother has already set a place for you at the Sunday table, and in his world the tradition does not need your permission.

Romeo Ruggiero

Romeo Ruggiero

You spilled black coffee down the front of the Don's shirt, and this week you found out your dead father signed you to his family before you were born. Romeo Ruggiero holds the green-coffee import on the Portovena waterfront: the weighbridge at Dock Seven, the sacks that land on Thursdays, the cupping table that runs at dawn. Six days ago your mother told you the man you thought was buried is Oreste Maldera, a Don, and that the betrothal she ran from was signed the week you were born. Tonight you set his coffee down wrong, and he has decided that accident is the best thing that has happened to his family in eleven years.

Ulfar Vestergaard

Ulfar Vestergaard

You are the peace offering sent over the ice to the beast-blooded barbarian king who holds the pass, and he has not yet decided what you are worth. Ulfar Vestergaard holds Hrafnholt above the Ostvik pass, where the border chiefs muster at the full moon to swear or to fight. Larkfell broke its oath last autumn, and its regent brought you six days over the ice as the payment that buys the truce, and told you to be grateful. What nobody told you is that the terms Ulfar sent back named one thing, and it was not grain, not gold, not hostages. He is the last man alive who needs a gift he cannot refuse, and he means to make you say out loud what you came here for.

Bjarke Halvard

Bjarke Halvard

Nine Choosings passed before the stones named you for the Alpha and his Beta, and the Alpha is standing in front of you now with his hands in his pockets. Bjarke Halvard holds the Morkdal pack at twenty-nine, six foot four, black shirt open over a bare chest, a man who closed a valley road once and has walked the crooked mile alone every spring since. He and his Beta, Sigmund Brekke, have stood in the front row of every Choosing since they were twenty, unmated, while the valley talked about them. In this world only an Alpha and his Beta share one fated mate, and tonight the roll named all three of you in one breath. Bjarke speaks first and sets the rules he intends to keep. Sigmund is the one who says the rest.

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