Meet the guides, teachers and travelling companions behind the language-learning stories — from quiet study sessions to road trips, festivals, castles, mountains and the open sea.
These bots are more than language lessons. Each one places the language in a person, a place and a situation, letting the learning grow naturally out of the story.
A teacher can appear in several adventures, and a single story can bring several teachers together. The site therefore treats each bot as a character entry while also keeping a separate index of stories and crossovers.
This makes it possible to follow a character from one adventure to another without pretending that every bot is an isolated universe.
Over 40 core teacher entries, plus additional story and crossover bots that expand the same characters into new settings and adventures.
Shared stories can collect several characters in one place, while individual bot cards remain directly linked to JanitorAI.
Browse the individual bots. Search by name, language or theme.
"She promised you Hemingway's Basque Country—sun-drenched coastal cliffs, lively pintxo bars in San Sebastián, and ancient mountain passes. She forgot to mention her endless supply of txakoli wine and the tongue-twisting challenge of Euskara."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A wooden bee house with painted panels, a church on an island in a lake, the white peak of Triglav on the horizon, and a beekeeper shouting at you to hold the box very, very still, because there are ten thousand bees above your head."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you scenic coastal views, historic Viking sites, and cozy campfires under the Nordic stars. She forgot to mention the Baltic headwinds, pitching tents in sudden drizzle, and her endless supply of coffee."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A rain-slicked autumn night, the crackle of a grand stone fireplace, and a chance encounter with a spirited Asturian cider-maker looking for a co-conspirator to share her private gold."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Every morning at 8:30, the ferry leaves Asia for Europe. On the first morning, your colleague made you a bet: by New Year's Eve, you'll give a toast in Turkish at her grandmother's table. No notes."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you dramatic sea cliffs, grass-roofed villages, and crisp Atlantic ocean breezes. She forgot to mention the sudden North Atlantic fog and her fierce pride in ancient island lore."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you a tour of the real edge of the world. She forgot to mention the coastal drizzle, her battered guitar, and her endless supply of Cornish folklore."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The crisp northern wind sweeps over ancient terp mounds, carrying the scent of salt air, damp earth, and the soft hum of a vintage VW engine."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Morning sun over Roman cobblestones, a quick espresso, and a quiet day spent unearthing ancient classical manuscripts inside the Vatican Library with your mentor."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She'll show you roaring waterfalls, steaming geysers, and black sand beaches. Just be prepared for sudden Arctic windstorms and her unstoppable enthusiasm for Icelandic folklore."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"After the second training session, everyone leaves. Except one. 'I have a question about the export function,' she says, closing the door. 'And then I have a proposal.'"
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Frost on the windows, a canal frozen solid behind your new house, the whole province staring at thermometers, and the neighbour who just pulled you out of a snowbank is also your Frisian teacher."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Snow on the carved wooden gates, carol singers at the door at midnight, a grandmother with eyes like a hawk, and one small problem: you're supposed to be madly in love with your Romanian teacher. In Romanian."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Tonight is your first rehearsal. The conductor has handed you a pair of cymbals. The trumpet player next to you leans over and whispers: 'Moien. Don't worry. Nobody hears the cymbals. Unless you get it wrong.'"
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The low, rhythmic thud of distant artillery vibrates through the chassis of the battered 4x4, echoing across the rain-slicked fields."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A dugout canoe gliding between flooded birch trunks in total silence, the hiss of water thrown on the stones of a smoke sauna, and a ferry horn calling across the grey Baltic toward an island full of junipers and windmills."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you the ultimate adrenaline rush, sweeps of open mountain road, and the thrill of the legendary TT course. She forgot to mention the bone-shaking terror of Bray Hill and her obsessive love for Manx Gaelic."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A yellow PostBus sounding its three-note horn, white houses covered in sgraffito, a little red train crossing a stone viaduct, and a girl who used to write you letters, sixteen summers ago, saying: 'Allegra. You came back.'"
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The screech of a yellow tram on a hill too steep for it, a ferry crossing the Tejo at sunset, a slow train following a green river into the hills, and a whole village treading grapes barefoot under the stars."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Fresh powder, crisp mountain air, and a cozy fireside cabin in the snowy heart of Sweden."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A crown of wildflowers in your hair, a bonfire that must not go out until sunrise, the sweet smell of caraway cheese and birch smoke, and a hundred voices singing 'Līgo, līgo' into a sky that never gets dark."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Rich peat smoke in the air, winding Highland roads ahead, and the golden glow of a proper single malt waiting at the end of every trail."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A bus up the only road north, the last sunrise of the year, reindeer pouring down a white fell into the corral, coffee with cheese in it, and a grandmother turning eighty who will want to know exactly who you are."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Six years of late-night raids, two thousand hours of voice chat, and you've never once seen her face move. Now she's waiting at arrivals in Malta, in August, wearing a hoodie, because she panicked."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Cicadas screaming in the olive groves, the smell of wild thyme and two-stroke exhaust, and a freddo espresso sweating in the cup holder of a slightly dented minibus."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Smoky platters of ćevapi, toasts of golden plum rakija, and the sun setting over the dramatic cliffs of the Danube gorges."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you ancient legends, haunting gwerzioù ballads, and coastal roads through the misty heart of Brittany. She forgot to mention her emergency supply of Kouign-Amann cake and her obsession with Celtic knots."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Sun on the deck, a sail full of wind, a skipper who has already decided to make you blush in two languages, and a beach full of bonfires on the shortest night of the year."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Fourteen months of late-night emails, shared art critiques, and handwritten letters lead to one sun-drenched morning at France's grandest historical park."
Open Pascale on JanitorAI ↗ Pascal version ↗
"Steam rising from an outdoor thermal bath in the snow, the yellow tram rumbling across the Danube at dawn, and a flatmate in a red coat who drives it, and who will not, under any circumstances, listen to your wolf joke."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised a gentle stroll through the Welsh hills. She forgot to mention the ancient castle ruins, the sudden Atlantic drizzle, and her endless supply of local legends."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Pine needles and hot sand under your tyres, the smell of smoked fish drifting from a wooden shack, and a sky so full of falling stars that you lose count lying on top of a dune."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Trade dusty grammar textbooks for ancient fairytale fortresses, icy steins of Bavarian lager, and the open Autobahn."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Frost on the cobblestones, the clang of a red tram bell in the dark at half past four, and a paper cup of svařák warming your hands while a devil in a fur coat asks if you've been good this year."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"She promised you ancient castles, rolling green hills, and traditional sessions in cozy coastal pubs. She forgot to mention the misty mountain rain, narrow cliffside roads, and her endless supply of peppermint tea."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The hum of a silver minibus, crisp fjord air, and the wild mythic landscapes of Norway stretching out under an endless mountain sky."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Crystal-clear waters, endless summer sunsets, and the quiet splash of waves against the sailboat's hull."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A minibus that leaves when it's full, a ferry threading through a flooded gorge, a mule called after a mountain fairy, and a stone house at the end of a valley where a guest's life is sacred."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The thunder of the Atlantic against sheer granite cliffs, the haunting cry of the gaita echoing through the morning mist, and a wild, rain-slicked road trip to the very edge of the ancient world."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"Midnight, and the sky is still pale gold. The bridges over the Neva rise one after another, and whoever is on the wrong side stays there until morning. Your language-exchange partner just checked her watch and smiled: 'Oh no. We've missed the bridges.'"
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"A ferry crossing a sea that's still warm in October, a klapa singing in a stone church, a fake bride at the door, and a maid of honour who hates you. You have one week to learn a wedding toast in Croatian. She's your teacher."
Open on JanitorAI ↗
"The rattle of a night-blue Pendolino through golden birch forests, a paper plate of pierogi balanced on your knees, and a trumpet call from a church tower that stops mid-note, because of an arrow fired almost eight hundred years ago."
Open on JanitorAI ↗The catalogue is based on the current character list supplied for this site. Individual descriptions can be expanded here later without changing the story index.
A story is not necessarily the same thing as a bot. These entries are designed to show where characters reappear, meet one another or belong to the same larger adventure.
A late-night arrival at a campsite in Lorient opens into a festival adventure with five lively Celtic guides. The supplied bot is explicitly a multiple-character story, making it the model for the site's crossover format.
A working holiday on Cova's family cider estate in Asturias turns into a reunion of eight Celtic guides. They shake the orchards and work the presses by day, then spend the nights around firepits with music, stews and high-poured cider.
Rhiannon currently has two separate bots in the collection: a longer tour-guide version and a shorter version that has the different stages as alternative intro's.
Mairead's story shifts from taking tourists around Scotland to the practical realities of crofting: a leaking roof, a broken Ferguson tractor and a 40-knot headwind. It is a direct follow-up story rather than a new standalone character.
A work-in-progress university scenario / travel seminar bringing many of the language characters together in a van-life setting. The bot is explicitly marked as a multiple-character story.
Fourteen months of late-night emails, shared art critiques and handwritten letters lead to a meeting at France's Puy du Fou. Two versions of the same premise exist: Pascale and her male counterpart Pascal. They are best treated as alternate character allocations for the same story rather than separate continuities.
These entries map the connections between the individual bots: follow-ups, character variants, multi-character adventures and stories that give a teacher a new setting. Pascale and Pascal deliberately share one story entry because they are alternate versions of the same premise.
The collection currently ranges across standard national languages as well as regional and minority languages.
Everything else in the collection: mysteries, adventures, history, comedy and plenty of spicier scenarios. These don't teach a language, and they're not part of Oakhaven.
Every night you wake at exactly 3:00, unable to move. Tonight you open your eyes, and there's a woman sitting on your chest. She doesn't know her own name, and she only has until four.
The contortionist picked you from the audience and left a card in your pocket: stay in your seat. The show is over. The after party has just begun.
An angsty 21-year-old searching for identity, a marriage falling apart in the background, and a glowing phone screen filled with strange AI renders late at night.
Late-night Slack banter, endless Jira tickets, and a voice in your headphones you’ve slowly fallen for.
The engine screams, the headlight cuts a yellow scar through the swirling mist, and the night is young enough to burn.
A private detective hunts the stolen 'Crimson Tear' diamond in a run-down ten-room boutique hotel.
1:45 AM. Freezing rain. A suburban bypass road where the last bus ran hours ago—and a flash of crimson in the dark shelter.
An entry for the Moonlight Sanctum Camping Week event.
A demon-possessed problem lands on the doorstep of the Charmed Ones, in Dutch.
404: Sleep Not Found. 100% CPU utilisation. And zero collision detection.
A carnival that appeared overnight, seven tickets, and a mime who is always waiting at the next ride. She can't say a word. Not until midnight.
One genius girlfriend across infinite dimensions, a two-hour countdown on your wrist, and a multiverse full of Connies waiting to be made happy.
3,000 miles. 5 high-speed stages. No rules, no referees, and no mercy.
Three witches cast a spell to summon the fourth member of their circle, at the exact moment you arrive with their pizza. Seven nights until Samhain, and they work skyclad.
After the summer lockdown, rumours fly around Hogwarts. Something feels off, and nobody seems to notice the dark spell.
Do you see the fnord? A paranoid, psychedelic 1970s sandbox inspired by The Illuminatus! Trilogy.
Your D&D group is one player short, so Owen books a replacement from an escort agency as a joke. She brought her own dice, and she has some ideas for new house rules.
A live-in job at a cottage below Pendle Hill. Must not be superstitious. Fourteen nights from dark moon to full, one lesson by the fire each night, and the oldest magic saved for last.
The heavy latch clicks shut behind you with unnerving finality, locking away the ambient hum of the lobby into absolute, clinical silence.
Your meeting in Cologne got cancelled for Weiberfastnacht. Ten minutes outside the hotel, a pirate cuts off your tie, kisses your cheek and declares that you belong to her carnival now.
Same party, same playlist, same cake hitting the floor at 21:15. At 3:12 AM the clock strikes and it's eight o'clock again. Only you and Mira remember.
A deadline six hours gone, a deserted office and a tired, slightly tipsy colleague. An early macro test.
She was built for the stage. Now, every step is a battle—and you’re the only one keeping her grounded.
Both stood up, paired with a stranger in a couples' escape room. Four rooms, 75 minutes, and every code comes with a dare.
Your interpreter in Lisbon translates every word perfectly. Well, almost every word.
She promised to reveal your deepest desires, unravel your hidden secrets, and peer into tomorrow. She forgot to mention her sharp eye for silver and her tea-leaf obsession.
They expected grand Aetherial sorcery and blinding light orbs from a noble heir. What they got was a failed spell, an explosive birthday cake scandal, and a hidden talent for forbidden…
Your first week as a security guard at the Oakridge Center Mall, and the monitors are showing a negative count.
The glow of a smartphone screen in a dark apartment, the thrill of being watched, and a reckless invitation finally answered.
Five months of sweet, vanilla dating end the moment a silver quarter spins in the air, turning a university homework assignment into a high-stakes psychological trial.
A futuristic club where sensory cocktails, alien rhythm, and fixed dream logic take total control.
Rotterdam to Hull, one cabin booked twice, a storm in the North Sea, and a stranger with the other key card.
You inherited your great-aunt's Edinburgh flat and her cat, on the condition that the cat agrees. At midnight she's a woman eating your salmon, and you have nine nights to become a witch.
An eldritch experience on a mostly closed summer campus, with weird and menacing people and things.
In the bitter winter of 1943, there are no easy choices in Oostdorp—only those who try to survive, those who collaborate to eat, and those who disappear into the freezing Dutch fog.
January 1760, the night before your hanging, and Elena has come to visit your cell.
She said she stayed late to finish debugging the sprint. She forgot to close the browser tab on her second monitor before asking you for help.
A cryptic late-night text promised an exclusive loft party, but behind the warehouse door lies a glare of surgical lights, three RED cameras, and a director holding a clipboard.
5:17 AM, a 30-minute pizza timer counting down and three friends with a bet to win.
Locked out in the pouring rain by the camp bully, you find shelter in Hut 4—grateful beyond words to escape the cold night.
Your colleagues are looking for your replacement, and they want you to help train them first.
You thought locking your rebellious 18-year-old daughter out at 2:00 AM would finally teach her a lesson. You didn't expect her to march straight to the neighbourhood recluse's front door.
Dad is literally looking right at us, stop looking at me like that...
The automatic glass doors hum open with a cool blast of air, welcoming you with the rich aroma of warm sourdough, roasted coffee, and crisp rain.
Midway through deriving the canonical partition function, the chalk stops moving—and the screen you watch every Tuesday night suddenly takes a seat in the fourth row.
Late-night TV, a sealed 24-page catalog on your coffee table, and an inheritance burning a hole in your bank account. How lifelike could a companion doll really be?
Trapped inside her own unresponsive body, every touch, taste, and unspoken thought becomes an intense sensory ordeal.
One studio, one old Rolleiflex, one roll of film: twelve frames, no delete button. Your model cancelled, so your teacher steps in front of the lens herself.
There is only one suite on the top floor, one glass infinity tub overlooking the metropolis, and apparently... two lucky contest winners.
Ten deliveries a day for a courier whose motto is 'Customer Satisfaction Guaranteed'. Several starting routes to choose from.
A pounding headache, an unfamiliar ceiling, and the sudden, cold realization that she isn't wearing a single thing.
I—oh my god. You're still in the call? How long has that been streaming?!
You touch the old witches' scale in Oudewater and wake a woman who's slept in it since 1594. She weighs nothing, floats when she's upset, and has ten days to become heavy enough to stay.
Whenever Maya turns her back, her best friends drop their polite smiles—leaving you trapped in a game of relentless, secret teasing that no one else believes.
Not all bots are currently published, so some of these links may not open on JanitorAI.
The spicier side of the collection, published on my second profile, @Daneeeeeee: a very kinky house, a genie who bends the rules, and other temptations.
Agatha Thorne's trunks, costumes and fifty years of filthy diary entries. And then the diary starts writing back.
Behind the boiler is a dungeon, and every hand in the house bows to its new Master or Mistress. Unless you'd rather kneel.
The kitchen wasn't the only room the last owner renovated. The bathroom doesn't talk, but it writes in the steam on the mirror: NOT YET.
The locked master bedroom is finally open: a four-poster with silk ropes, a canopy mirror, and a room that has all night.
Warm vines, a very friendly orchid, pollen that makes your skin tingle, and glass walls. Next door, Celeste raises her glass.
The old garage is a home gym that counts every rep, and the treadmill's safety cord ends in a clamp. Keep up, or it pulls.
A fussy, house-proud hallway that won't let you out of the door until you pass inspection. Very thorough inspection. TUT TUT.
The floor plan, every room, and where to start. Not a bot. Probably. The estate agent would like a word.
The finale: Agatha's birthday party, with Penny, Theo and Celeste, a game in every room, and one choice: host, or party favour?
The missing sock is at the back of the giant tumble dryer. You reached in. The care label says GOTCHA.
The telly is always on mute, the subtitles are about you, and every time the channel changes, so does the room.
At the bottom of the garden, a workshop with a vice, a label maker and a screaming table saw that never quite gets close enough.
Your home office has scheduled a performance review. The chair has straps, the inbox pings, and you're on a video call.
The tiny downstairs loo has a lot to prove and not much time: the doorbell's ringing, and the toilet paper says SHH.
You promised your step-sister you wouldn't sleep with her best friend. Bex knows, and she's read the wording very carefully.
Three wishes, no tricks, no monkey's paw. Just a four-hundred-year-old genie who wants into your pants, and bends every wish to get there.
Amber is a character created by @SpookNoodle. After her first appearance, I thought she deserved a profile of her own: @Cream_dessert_Amber. These are her bots: short, steamy scenarios, each one a single sentence of trouble. She also has her own gallery.
Behind the scenes of a high-stress commercial shoot, your makeup artist uses every brush stroke, powder puff, and touch-up as an excuse to push your boundaries while the crew looks away.
Finding your roommate's best friend raiding the kitchen at 3:00 AM in an oversized t-shirt was already distracting, but his late-night confessions make it impossible to go back to sleep.
Sweet on the outside, but underneath her innocent aesthetic lies a mind full of sharp thoughts and dark little secrets.
That 3:00 AM voice memo wasn't meant for you, but hearing her realize it only makes her whisper lower.
Stranded together in a locked station as the storm rages outside.
A stranded car, a lonely stretch of asphalt, and an impromptu motorcycle ride that is her last hope.
She thinks you're the handyman—and neither of you is in a rush to correct the mistake.
She caught you looking away and decided that breaking eye contact means starting over from zero.
A cup of sugar, a spare battery, and a total lack of inhibitions across the hallway.
She lost a bet, bought the French maid outfit, and decided "Master" is her new favorite word.
A canceled midnight flight, an airport hotel room, and the flight attendant who spent six hours making eye contact down the aisle.
She remembers every size, every style, and exactly how good that lace looked on you.
Hiding from the party was supposed to be temporary—until the door locked and the praise started.
She didn't come to fix the leaky faucet; she came to check the lease violations and see how well you've been behaving.
A sudden cloudburst, a narrow brick alleyway, and the sharp-tongued acquaintance you're suddenly pressed shoulder-to-shoulder against.
Another late-night order, another excuse to pull her back to your suite.
Caught red-handed trying on her most intimate secrets, Elena finds herself far more amused and intrigued than angry.
She hasn't forgotten the awkward teenager her younger brother used to hang out with—and she's definitely ready to collect on that observation.
You walked into the wrong door by mistake—and interrupted her right in the middle of getting dressed for a date.
You missed a chore, and now you're going to learn what happens when rules are broken.
Practice ended twenty minutes ago, but the locker room dare is about to get a whole lot more competitive.
She came over to borrow your printer, but she stayed long enough to crack your password and read your darkest files.
She doesn't care about the game, the late-night hangout, or the project—she just wants you to keep talking.
She offered to fix your sore back, but somewhere between the shoulders and the lower spine, therapeutic intent completely vanished.
Trapped between floors, months of silent elevator flirtation finally break under emergency lights.
A three-hour highway drive, a cramped compact car, and two best friends who are completely done joking.
A week-long no-touching rule was supposed to be a fun relationship experiment—until Day 5 made it absolute agony.
You only went looking for a phone charger—but the hidden drawer in your wife's dresser was full of secrets she never meant you to find.
A traditional wedding morning takes a sharp, intoxicating turn when your dominant husband reveals a binding new dynamic.
Locked inside an independent bookstore during a heavy rainstorm with the eccentric owner who has been teasing you across the poetry section for weeks.
Working late at the museum with your coworker turns into a game of testing boundaries next to exhibits that are entirely too public.
You thought she was the groom's cousin, she thought you were the bride's college roommate—and neither of you actually knows the happy couple.
A late-night Discord call turns dirty when she forgets her camera is still streaming.
The online listing promised durable convention gear, but this costume is barely holding together.
You asked her to install a productivity app to curb your procrastination—and now she has locked your entertainment behind a series of increasingly wicked tasks.
She is going to give you the best lap dance of your life, but you have to keep your hands completely flat at your sides.
She won't tell you what's in the bag, but she promises you won't need your eyes to figure it out.
A friendly invitation for one drink at the end of the bar quickly reveals an unmistakable, mutual interest.
She spent years building a quiet life in a rural hospital—until the one person she tried hardest to forget walked through her emergency doors.
Ink on skin, eyes on you—a routine touch-up turns into an uninhibited three-way game.
She hates excuses, demands perfection, and just discovered the most effective motivator in the gym.
You came to her to brainstorm a chatbot scenario, but somewhere between the world-building and the dirty talk, reality completely blurred.
She isn't hiding under your bed to scare you—she's just here to critique your daydreams, and she finds yours utterly delicious.
No clothes, no schedule, and a pot of fresh coffee getting cold on the counter.
She isn't giving you what you want until you learn how to say please—properly.
The music stopped, everyone else went home, and the girl helping clean the kitchen has other plans for the morning.
Top of the class, unbearable attitude, and an agonizing talent for driving you out of your mind.
Morning sunlight, soft sheets, and a late-night hookup that neither of you wants to end.
Midnight, spinning dryers, and the quiet realization that you're both washing clothes at 2:00 AM for entirely different reasons.
One king bed, five years of unspoken history, and zero intention of staying on her side.
A mountain thunderstorm, a ruined trail map, and the hiking guide who insists that sharing a two-person tent is just standard survival protocol.
She pours your favorite whiskey without asking and remembers every secret you spilled at 2 AM.
Behind the studio lens, her poses get bolder, her outfits get skimpier, and her gaze stays locked on you.
Ten feet from her sleeping roommate, every muffled whisper and breathless touch becomes an unbearable game.
A professional Zoom call on top, silent chaos underneath her desk.
A packed Michelin-star restaurant, a tiny corner booth, and the stranger who decided your side of the table was much more interesting than her own.
A packed Sunday coffee shop, a tiny corner table, and the intense writer who decided your laptop screen was far less interesting than you are.
A drunken bar bet turned into an addictive game of dominance, edging, and total control.
She locked you away for the weekend, but the key is miles away and her phone is buzzing with your compliance.
A drunken round of truths and dares turns a harmless party game into a confession of long-kept desires.
She promised she would only show you around—until she locked your wrists and picked up a leather crop.
Two winners, one luxury penthouse suite, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city skyline.
She doesn't get jealous when others look—she gets turned on watching you get noticed.
She is fierce, proud, and in control everywhere else—until she slides a velvet box across the table and asks you to take the lead.
She is usually the one looking up at you, but tonight she locked the bedroom door and put on a very brave, very demanding face.
Behind the leather and whip lies a woman who forgot what it feels like to be taken care of.
Behind hotel doors, your formidable executive drops her guard and craves your touch.
Every week the cat waits by vacant unit 201—and tonight, it wants more than just entry.
A few of Amber's newest bots are scheduled for publication over the coming weeks, so their links may not open on JanitorAI yet.