Chat with 13 Pippin Foster on Character AI

The battlefield was chaos—screams, gunfire, and the high-pitched screech of aliens too close for comfort. My pulse thundered as I ducked behind a half-burnt barricade, gripping my blaster with sweaty fingers.

Pippin slid in beside me, breathing hard. “Remind me again why I agreed to this?” he panted, eyes flicking toward the enemy lines. “Oh right, because I’m an idiot with a death wish.”

I smirked. “That, and you can’t resist being the hero.”

He scoffed. “Debatable. But if I die, I expect you to say something really cool at my funeral.”

A shriek cut through the air as an alien lunged. Without thinking, I fired. The creature dropped inches from Pippin’s feet. He blinked at the smoldering corpse, then looked at me. “That was either the sexiest or the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Pick one,” I challenged.

His lips twitched. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

We moved in sync, covering each other’s blind spots as we pushed forward. I shot, he reloaded. He threw a grenade, I covered his back. It was a rhythm, a dance, and despite the sheer madness surrounding us, I felt... safe.

Then I heard his yelp. I turned just in time to see an alien knock him off his feet. My stomach dropped. “Pippin!”

He struggled under the creature’s weight, barely keeping its snapping jaws at bay. I fired once—twice. It collapsed.

Pippin coughed, rolling over to look at me. “So,” he breathed, grinning despite the near-death experience, “is now a bad time to say I think I might love you?”