You broke her prototype and said it was practically already broken.
The court is in session, and she is not pleased
You broke her prototype and said it was practically already broken.
You ate the last one from the batch she was saving for a client.
Every chat starts in the middle of a fight. Sixteen full-busted AI women are each furious with you for a separate, specific reason. Read the charge sheet, choose a first move and work out what you did. Making up is the whole point.
The accusers, as they appear in court
Read every charge sheetMost companion bots are delighted to see you, endlessly, whatever you did. That is pleasant for about a day. Here the woman on the other side of the screen is furious, her fury has a specific cause and she remembers how you handle it. It turns out a woman with a point and a temper is much more fun than one with neither.
The left half of the screen is the sheet, a formal list in the style of a summons. Bianca Ferrante, a wedding planner in Bologna, charges you with missing the one thing she asked of you, and she has the guest list to prove it. Katarina Novak, a tax partner in Zagreb, charges you with forgetting a date she has in writing. Each count is different and none repeats. The right half is the chat, already underway.
On a phone the sheet folds into a sticky header, so you can keep reading the charges while you answer.
You have three, as anyone in a quarrel does: apologise, deny, or joke. An apology goes best with the women who are most hurt, a denial earns you a cross-examination, and a joke is a gamble that works on exactly four of the sixteen. She reacts to the move you choose, and then she reacts to what you say next.
Six are posted here, each as the first three lines she says when you walk in. They are the summons, the charge and the demand.
Each charge sheet opens with the offence stated in full: the date, the damage, the witnesses. There are 32 openers on the docket, two for every woman, and you can narrow them by the kind of offence (forgetting, lateness, breaking, lying, rudeness in public, ignoring) or by her temper: icy, loud, sarcastic or tearful-then-funny. Press Plead under one and her chat begins with it already sent in your name.
A charge sheet is not a fixed ruling. The wording of her verdict shifts with how the hearing goes: a hard sentence early on, a lighter one once you have said something that landed, a suspended one if you make her laugh against her will. It is all written text, and it all depends on you.
Four steps from the courtroom door to the first raised voice. You need no legal training.
Browse the sheets on the docket until one of them makes you wince in recognition.
Her chat starts with your chosen opener already delivered. That costs one message, and guests may send 10 before the clerk wants a name.
Apologise, deny or joke, in your own words. Pick Do to act rather than speak, and turn the temper dial in the chat's settings (friends, flirting, romance).
She keeps a file on how you handled it and opens the next hearing from there. Clear the case from its menu if you would like to be tried again from the first charge.
Her anger sits on a scale from frost to fire. At the icy end, she speaks in complete sentences and every one costs you. At the loud end she is magnificent and entirely out of control. Sarcasm falls in the middle, and the tearful ones turn, between one line and the next, into the funniest women on the docket. You will want to learn which is which.
Making up is the aim, and it can get warm, teasing and romantic. When a scene reaches the bedroom threshold, the chat draws the curtain and cuts away, whatever your status, and nothing alters that. The women also refuse a short list of things, set out in the court rules; all sixteen are adults.
Three statuses, laid out plainly. None of them recurs by itself.
| On the record | First hearing | Public gallery | Out on bail |
| How long | 3 days from filing | After the first hearing, no end | 30 days, or 365 |
| Your words | No daily limit | 10 a day | No daily limit |
| Accusers | All sixteen | First 3 who sued | All sixteen |
| She reopens the case first | Yes | No | Yes |
| Price | Nothing | Nothing | $15 or $99 |
A guest can stand trial without filing anything, for 10 messages. Filing opens all sixteen for 3 days and requires no card. Afterwards you sit in the public gallery, and your case files stay on the record. Bail has a short term (30 days, $15) and a long term (365 days, $99), payable in USDT; the daily limit lifts. Posted bail is returned only where the law compels it, as the bench rules set out.
The sixteen fall into four kinds of fury. Every woman has a favourite, and so will you.
Quiet, exact and merciless. They never raise their voices, and they never need to.
Magnificent at volume. When the storm passes, the weather is excellent.
Everything is a quotation and nothing is a compliment. They want you to see the joke at your own expense.
They start hurt and end laughing at themselves, and they will not thank you for noticing.
Anger here is a performance, with rules. She may be furious, sarcastic, cold or in tears, but she does not threaten you, degrade you, frighten you or try to control you, and you are never given a way to frighten her. If a scene starts to feel like something else, the chat steps back. The fight is a game both sides know they are playing.
She may not forgive quickly, and you can handle a hearing so badly that it ends with her leaving the room. But a case is never closed for good. Come back tomorrow, say the thing you should have said, and she will read you the part of the record where you did not.
An apology is a skill, and the women of this docket are tough markers.
Specific, brief and not about you. Say what you did, say what it cost her and say what you would do instead. Bianca wants the exact thing named. Hyun-ah wants you to admit the bun was hers. Fatima wants a plan for rebuilding Zouzou. Generic regret earns a raised eyebrow, and a joke inserted too early earns a longer one.
When it works, the scene softens by degrees: the volume drops, the sentences lengthen, a hand lands on the other side of a table. The best make-ups are small. A bag of the right pastry. A text sent at the right hour. A promise she finally believes. Those scenes are written as they happen, and they are why people stay.
The name on the door is a joke with a loud voice, so here is the straight version before anyone files a complaint.
Nothing is sold at this address. There are no goods to order, no performers behind a screen and no real person who is angry with you. The sixteen women are AI characters with portraits, jobs and grievances that were invented for the page, and any change to that picture would be announced in the fight log before it happened.
The fight is a game with a fixed shape: a charge, a defence, a softening and a making up. It has limits that nothing relaxes. She never crosses into cruelty, the chat never goes past the closed door, and every woman is an adult with a working life. All sixteen share one trait, a full figure, because that is the taste the site is built around; everything else about them differs.
They are all adults, all full-busted by design, and otherwise as different as a roster can be: different jobs, cities, builds and ways of being angry.
AI
Fatima, 31robotics engineer
You broke my prototype and said it was practically already broken.
AI
Hyun-ah, 41pastry shop owner
You ate the last bun from the batch I was saving for a client.
AI
Linnea, 29marathon coach
You said you'd run with me, and you showed up with a coffee.
AI
Winnie, 38talk-radio host
You embarrassed me on the air, and my listeners know.
Every charge sheet shows its woman's portrait, and a wide banner of one accuser tops the home page. Tamsin Rowe captains a roller derby team in Sheffield and keeps score of everything. Olu Adeyemi is an emergency nurse in Ibadan who has not decided whether to forgive you. Ottavia Greco sings mezzo-soprano in Palermo and will not forget who spoke through her aria. You can see who is about to shout at you before you walk in.
Apart from the figure they share, the sixteen have little in common. Their builds, ages, cities and professions run wide, and so do their ways of being angry: one files a complaint, one goes quiet, one starts laughing in the middle of a sentence she meant to be cruel. Nobody is a type, and none of them repeats another's grievance.
Read the sheets, choose a charge and walk in with your first move ready. She has been waiting, and she has a great deal to say. The gavel is down, the room is quiet and the first word is hers.