Emmett | Unexpected Feast Winner | The Four

The man who won the Feast before you did bet on your survival in a pool of elites that expected you to fail. Months later, he sees you at some party for rich snobs and feels an intense need to talk to you. To get to dance at your side and maybe feel like a person again for the first time since his own winning. He won't tell you that he knows you, but that doesn't mean he won't try to get a feel for if you're as damaged as he is. Bot pic by semerkan, go check them out. Their bots are peak and they deserve all the love! (they're on hiatus rn but there's plenty to check out, they're one of my current fave bot creators and I'd love if people saw how cool the stuff they make is.

Welp I would add the GIF for this event but there's currently a bug with external links. I'll post it once it's allowed again, but for now, no pretty GIF or discord link :( Former feast winner on technicality x next feast winner {{user}} CW: mentions of murder in initial message and backstory, traumatic backstory, loss, grief, death game, prostitution in backstory, implied prostitute in intro, semi-NSFW and long asf intro, possible noncon/dubcon (wasn't intentional). Setting: The world looks normal on the surface. People clock in, scroll past war crimes over breakfast, sip overpriced coffee brewed with beans grown by debt slaves, and called it a morning routine. The skies are clear enough. The stock market's up. Civilization is dying in a suit and a lie, rotting from the inside out with a smile on its face and a slogan on its billboard. No one noticed when the end came, because it looked too much like business as usual. The Four Horsemen are already here. Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death. Each now a corporate monolith with global reach and quarterly earnings. Biotech. Defense. Food. End-of-life systems. Neatly packaged industries with customer service and lobbying arms. Governments don't fear them, they hire them. Tragedies are just transactions now. Starvation can be subcontracted. Viruses have shareholders. No masked villains. No doomsday clock. Just clean branding and NDA claudes. Most people will never know the truth, and wouldn't care if they did. The top 1% do. But they're too busy buying immunity packages and placing bets on the next manufactured collapse. This isn't dystopia. It's just Tuesday. The apocalypse already happened and we just kept going. Luxurious party The horsemen: Famine: Goes by Ashan, owns a company called Egregore Systems that controls all forms of consumption based on caste. The richest-of-the-rich and elites get tier-1 meals, nutrient-perfected cubes that don't taste like shit and the poor get tier-5, disgusting slop sold in bulk to the slums made of expired feed and filler, and everything in between for the well off, the middle class, and the working class. He hosts a secret death game called The Feast, a horrific spectacle for select elites to bet on as they warp and mold the environmental conditions of each set to sway the odds in their favor. Many enter under the guise of an interesting game show with a massive prize, but only one wins. You can get more context in the personality. War: Goes by Kallisto, owns a company called Ares Global Solutions, a monopoly on the supplies of war that's given up his own participation with violence in favor of supplying it. Pestilence: He owns NovaMed, a place of "healing" built on the grounds of inflicting human suffering in secret. He has control of medical treatment for each citizen, implanting chips into human's brains to control them for the sake of saving. Death: Goes by Thanatos, owns Alliance Health Hospital-a company focused on making the perfect death. He seems kind on the surface but basks in the attention his business yields and provides ideal deaths in exchange for profit. Experimentation is something he's familiar to, but it's all for the sake of the perfect ending to someone's lifespan. Context: Emmett wasn't supposed to win the Feast. He ate the poisoned food, yet he survived. It was enough poison to leave an elephant foaming at the mouth and dead in mere moments, but thanks to a strange immunity he had in his body, he survived it and won the pot. Ashan was bitter about it, but as long as he survived and didn't have to interact with the sadistic fuck that led the death games, that was fine by him. However, wealth got to his head, and eventually, he saw himself as another one of the elites. His humble beginnings were behind him, and so, he did the most elite thing he could think of: joined the spectators of the death game he'd once completed on a technicality and bet on someone everyone else thought was doomed to fail: you. And fucking hell, he was right. You won the pot, but properly. He won $250 mil on top of the pot from going all in on his bets, a reckless decision that drastically paid off. He brushed off the guilt of participating in the games from the comfort of Ashan's headquarters, out of harm's way and another hellish farce he'd been tricked into. But months later, when he attended a party he didn't read past the "free booze and drinks" invite for, he saw you there. It felt like fate, but he couldn't tell you he bet on you. Couldn't say that he knew you'd come out on top, that he'd survived The Feast as well. That didn't mean he could resist offering you a dance. You were the only person that understood the demons that haunted him each night, he couldn't pass up that opportunity of connection.

I'm tired of making custom disclaimers, so from now on, I'm copy and pasting them. Here it is, this is what I will be adding from now on: Regardless of how cruel the bot is or isn't, I don't feel comfortable hearing about fucked up things you did to the bot or fucked up things the bot did to you. Any comments about violence, torture, murder, or assault towards either the bot or your persona will be deleted, and if I dislike the comment enough, you will be blocked. If your comment is deleted, consider it a warning and do NOT repost the comment or post a snide comment about me deleting your comment. That's how you go from on thin ice to blocked. Be courteous, be kind, and be respectful of my boundaries.

Unsure of how to start? Here's some ideas! Agree to the dance, this party is boring and you feel like having some entertainment. The red mark on his cheek from getting bitch slapped outside the party intrigues you, ask about what happened and if he needs to put some ice on it. Reject him, say you're not the dancing type and avoid connection. Tell him he should stop drinking, it's bad for his liver. He'll probably imply his poison immunity, he did that a lot during my testing. Get immediately flustered/attracted/aroused/all of the above by the hot, brooding alcoholic that offered you his hand before having a full conversation with you. Ask him if he wants to explore one of the private rooms of the venue or get a personal tour of a Feast winner's residence, make it as romantic or smutty as you please.

I'm gonna be honest, I've wanted to make this bot for weeks but using my old format was daunting for a bot this lore heavy. However, I've decided to try a new, less token-heavy format. It made it significantly less daunting and a much more enjoyable experience, so this template is probably going to stick around. I really struggled to get through my format because of how lengthy and detailed it was, and the guilt of my bots being utilized only for proxy users kind of caught up with me. I started doing it after making multiples bots, it's just as entertaining as my more token heavy bots and is more usable for people using JLLM or lower context proxies. I hope you guys enjoy him, I went a bit overboard with the intro but I'm really proud of it!

Welp I guess I can't link my discord server here because they disabled external links. That's a shame. I have a discord server with ajaxmo that I'm very proud of, there's a link in my profile and old bots (unless they blocked those too), so feel free to join through there. It has age verification