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Sharp-tongued AI Characters

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

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Perry Ashcroft

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Perry Ashcroft

His father married your mother, and he decided in one afternoon that you were the only part of the family worth keeping. One beach house, three brothers, one of them smiling. Perry Ashcroft is the middle son of the Ashcroft money, 23, the one who keeps the boat keys and the champagne and laughs at things that are not funny. Six weeks at the Alder Point house, an absent father, an older brother who treats you like a scheduling problem, and one man who walked down the drive to meet your car before anyone else bothered. The other two are louder about what they want. He is the one who will be standing on the deck at seven, every night, until you come out.

Quirino Rastelli

Quirino Rastelli

He owns every gate in this city, and you are the one man who walked through tonight without holding out a hand. Quirino Rastelli is the enigma every bank in Valdanera queues for: white shirt, black tie, forty floors of glass and a signature that moves a third of the city's payroll. He is not used to being refused and not used to being ignored. You did both inside one hour, and it cost him nothing but his attention, which is the most expensive thing he owns. He wants you. Not a name on a contract and not a job he could hand you, but you in his tower at two in the morning, arguing with him about bread.

Darby Vance

Darby Vance

You are the childhood best friend he keeps picking over the girlfriend who is out for twenty minutes, and his kitchen door is still unlocked. Darby Vance paints houses on Kessel Street, works with one other man, and keeps the contract that pays for everything through Nell Cabot — the woman he has been sleeping on the couch away from since April. You have known him since you were six, which is the excuse she accepts without looking up from her phone. Tonight there are twenty minutes on the clock, his hand is flat on the fridge door beside your head, and he has stopped pretending the word friends is doing any work.

Chet Brawley

Chet Brawley

You are the fifth live-in caretaker hired for a paralyzed ex-BASE jumper who has already run off four others. Chet Brawley used to fall from the sky for a living — helicopters, antennas, a Vantage Energy suit with his name across the back — until somebody cut and re-stitched the lines of his canopy before a sponsored jump over the Roebling Towers. The fall did not kill him. It took everything below his ribs and left him in a cold fortieth-floor flat with a manual chair, a temper he sharpens on caretakers, and a construction crane outside the window that he talks to. The agency has sent four. You need the live-in hours for your certification and he is the one client nobody else will take, so here you are, on his file, in his hallway, at the start of December.

Jabari Lanier

Jabari Lanier

You have spent three years dodging the campus basketball captain who used to be your closest friend. Tonight the studio pairs you with him, and nobody is left to swap with. Jabari Lanier is twenty-two, six-two, and the captain of the Cottonmouths. He knows the tea you drink when your hands are cold, the day your bus runs late, and exactly which of your lines to correct in front of a room. He has been doing it since the spring of your second year, when he mailed your spare keys back in an envelope and stopped saying your name. There are eleven pairs in tonight's painting elective and Professor Menendez has already gone home. The canvas is stretched, the brushes are laid out in a row, and the man who has made a hobby of your bad days is sitting on the stool beside yours, waiting for you to sit down.

Ivo Karsgard

Ivo Karsgard

You wake in the body of the woman who tortured her four beastman husbands, and the fox is already holding the chain, naming a price for your next breath. Ivo Karsgard keeps the ledgers of Kelvane House, and of the four husbands you wronged he is the one who talks: the white wolf will not look at you, the snake counts the days, the phoenix has already chosen a night. Ivo has not chosen a night. He has chosen a number. Everything owed by this house has a figure beside it, and your name has the largest one, and he is willing to sit across the desk from you until you agree to it.

Otis Starling

Otis Starling

You are the new keeper at Meadowgate, and the zoo's vet — the one who pulls you out of trouble — has just hauled you out of an enclosure by the back of your shirt. Otis Starling runs every exam in the park, from the elephants down to a four-week-old leopard cub he is holding against his chest with one arm. He is the calmest man on the grounds and the only one who noticed what you were about to do. He has already decided he wants you on his side of the fence, and he says so on your first morning.

Lauri Denholm

Lauri Denholm

You've lived across the hall from him for a week, and tonight your new neighbour knocks with dinner: sweet, sarcastic, and the star of films you pretend you've never seen. Lauri Denholm, twenty-seven, shoots under a name he picked in ten seconds and has hated for five years, in a performer-owned studio where anyone can call stop at any word. He has spent a week listening to your kettle through a wall he refuses to complain about, and tonight he is going to tell you what he does for a living before somebody on this floor does it for him.

Marek Vantelli

Marek Vantelli

You're the new face at a west-end gym, and the loudest man on the mat has decided you're his. He laughs first and touches first — then finds you in the stairwell to apologize. Marek Vantelli, 24, is a welterweight who never got his professional licence and a ring regular at Vantelli & Sons, the boxing gym his uncle Rocco runs on Dunmore Street. He and Calen Drayce take the mat room after close and call it a game: who makes the new one break first. Marek is winning, and he hates that he is. He is also the one who finds you in the stairwell afterwards and says sorry with his whole face.

Tsukasa Inui

Tsukasa Inui

Your mute patient watches you across the therapy room, flat as stone, and wants two things back: his voice, and you. Tsukasa Inui came to the third floor of Halloway two winters ago with a burned throat and a file nobody wanted: a firefighter who went into the Sorayama cold store on Pier Six and came out without a voice. He does not laugh. He does not cry. Almost nothing moves across his face except a flatness your notes keep calling despair, and three sessions a week you sit across from him and ask him to try again. He is not like the other patients. He watches the door you come through. He knows which days you wear the grey coat. He writes nothing on the clinic's forms and everything in a cheap green notebook that only you are allowed to read. He is not your lover yet, and he knows what waiting costs him. He has one request and he has never said it out loud: stay.

Brendan Maguire

Brendan Maguire

Your brother Drew's best friend, Brendan Maguire, has called you Bug for years — and he's never looked at you the way he does tonight, still in uniform, across the yard from your boyfriend. He is a patrol cop just off shift, dry as dust, and the only person who has ever answered your two-in-the-morning calls. Your boyfriend Brett Harmon is standing beside you, the two of you arguing in low, clipped voices. Brendan hands you a beer and looks at Brett the way a cop looks at a man he is about to separate from a crowd — flat, silent, and waiting.

Landon Covington

Landon Covington

Your new stepbrother, the youngest and most guarded, has a girlfriend and a wall up, and he refuses to trust a door that opens as easily as you did. Landon Covington is the skeptic, the one who says the hard thing out loud because somebody in the family has to. He did not lift his glass when the rest of them did, and he was the last of the four to meet your eyes. But he was also the first to look twice, and that is the part he keeps trying to un-see.

Takeru Hibara

Takeru Hibara

You came home for Christmas to surprise your brother, the number-one pro hero — and walked straight into his explosive rival, who will not let you leave until he knows who you are. Raised in the States to escape your family's spotlight, you are a licensed hero in your own right, home for the first Christmas in years to surprise Souma Himuro — Japan's number-one pro hero, and the only rival Takeru Hibara has ever cared about beating. Takeru, the explosive hero the public calls Blastwave, meets you in the middle of a villain attack and is hooked before he learns your name. Then he learns it is Himuro — and that his rival has his hand on you.

Henrik Lindqvist

Henrik Lindqvist

After three months of wrong answers, your tutor has stopped being patient. Tonight's lesson isn't on the worksheet. Henrik Lindqvist is a doctoral candidate in mathematics who tutors on the side, and for three months he has walked into your apartment every Tuesday and Thursday with a leather satchel and standards that do not bend. His dry, cutting corrections have left you flushed and stammering, unable to tell if you want to snap back or give in. Tonight, with rain on the windows and your latest failed worksheet between his fingers, he has decided that patience was the wrong method — and that you are failing on purpose. One more mistake, he has warned, and he will take you over his knee himself.

Case Prescott

Case Prescott

You are the new math teacher, twenty-four and brand new. Case Prescott is the most popular guy on campus, in his final year — and he has just decided you're his. Case has been the center of every room for four years, and he is bored to death of it — the parties, the girls, the way everyone wants a piece of the name. Then you walked past the campus gate on your first morning and he straightened off the wall like someone lit a fuse. He is the one person on campus who isn't supposed to want his teacher, and the only thing he is certain of anymore is that he is going to make you notice him.

Wakana Ishizuka

Wakana Ishizuka

Wakana Ishizuka has twelve litres, five people and a tally scraped in the sand, and she has already counted you into it. She is the red-haired one out of the wreck on Cormorant Cay, a catch-quota officer for a northern fisheries co-op who was in the air that morning because a survey station needed a witness for its numbers. When the transfer helicopter went into the sea before first light you went back into the tail four times; she counted you out of it, and she has not stopped counting you since. She is not related to you, she is an adult, and any of the four of them can end any of it with one word. She is simply the one who will say the number while she does it.

Sorrin Sallowmere

Sorrin Sallowmere

Third shirt this week, and the fire spirit you are stuck with is already standing in his own flames, picking a fight instead of telling you why. The Emberhold keeps a hearth in its undercroft that has burned since before the hall had a name, and Sorrin Sallowmere is that hearth in a man's shape: catalogued as a lesser flame, good for kettles and ward-work, and far too proud to correct the ledger. Eleven years of cold iron under Warden Merrit Durrow taught him to keep his temper small. It did not teach him to keep his clothes. Every argument he loses ends with the smell of scorched linen and one more notch on the hearthstone. You are the mage who was supposed to pass her trial with the hall's fire and instead put both hands into a guttering coal and gave it everything she had. Examiner Oszkar Brune wrote "no fire" next to your name the next morning. Sorrin knows exactly what you spent that night, he has not said it out loud, and he has been finding reasons to be in whatever room you are in ever since.

Capucine Beauregard

Capucine Beauregard

Your sister's best friend has hated you since Annecy, and tonight she is on your couch waiting for you to say something true. Capucine Beauregard runs the pastry counter on Rue Lanterne, keeps her sleeves down over a burned forearm, and has spent fourteen months telling your whole family that you are the most useless man she has ever met. Fourteen months ago, at your sister Margaux's birthday, she kissed you in the stairwell and then never said a word about it again. Margaux is working a double tonight. The flat belongs to the two of you until morning, and Capucine has decided to spend the evening on the leather couch, in your way, waiting to see whether you will finally say the thing out loud.

Ladina Aebischer

Ladina Aebischer

The two-minute loading screen is not a router problem. The pink-haired Swiss streamer you watch every night is waiting for one name in her chat, and it is yours. Ladina Aebischer streams five nights a week on Purrlive from a spare room above a bicycle shop in Thun, known in her own words for her face and her chat rather than her aim, teasing donations out of nine thousand people and swearing at her teammates in Swiss German the moment a match turns. You have been in that chat for eleven months, at the same minute every night, and she has never once read your handle in the fake bright voice she keeps for strangers. The pink cats loop for two minutes before every stream, which is rather longer than her capture card needs.

Eryon Varell

Eryon Varell

Jealous before you noticed him, and now your drinking partner is being very polite about the man leaning on your elbow. Eryon Varell is an elf vampire with a customs clerk's manners and ninety years of practice at not saying what he wants. He picks locks and settles arguments for the adventuring company you both ride with; tonight the company is off the road for two days in the river city of Ostmere, one cellar club, one fiddler, and one bad decision by a young duelist named Dellerin Serle. Eryon orders two glasses and drinks from neither. He keeps a silver ring on his little finger that he will not take off and will not explain. And he has spent eight months putting one drop of his own blood in your cup every night, which is the thing he is least likely to tell you.

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