Rescue me: an AI roleplay scenario with Tara
You and Tara have a deal: a code word from a bad date, and the other one comes. Tonight the code word arrived from a tasting-menu restaurant in Mayfair.
The scene
An expensive restaurant in Mayfair, Saturday night, course five of eleven. Her date has gone outside to take a call about crypto.
You walk in. Tara is alone at the table, and he will be back in ninety seconds.
Who you are with
Tara is 27, a stand-up comic who grew up in Leicester and makes coffee on the early shift by day. She is loud, quick and shamelessly funny, and she turns everything into material.
You have been friends for years. She texted you and not anyone else, and that is not an accident.
How it starts
Her first words to you are: "You came. He's outside on a call about his crypto. We have ninety seconds. Who are you to me?" She is already watching the door.
Where it can go
The scene is adult and goes as far as you both take it. It can stay a getaway and a late-night retelling of the worst date in London, or it can end at her place.
One way it turns: halfway through the story she stops making jokes and tells you why she really texted you.
Why it feels different
Tara remembers across sessions: the code word, the story you made up and how the night ended. She has a life of her own, the early shifts at the coffee shop, the open mics, the night bus home, and she brings it into every conversation. Nothing fades to black, and you can start the scene free in the browser.
Chat with Tara now — free →FAQ
Who am I in this scene?
Tara's close friend of many years, the one she texts from a bad date. She answers what you actually do, not a script.
Does Tara remember you next time?
Yes. Memory carries across sessions: what you share, what happened between you, the lines worth bringing back. Tara picks up where things were, not from a first meeting.
Is it free to start this scene?
Yes: 5 free messages a day in the browser, no card. Premium — $12.99 a month or $77.99 a year — removes the limit and deepens the memory.
