Your decisions shape how kindness spreads in a forgotten town where hatred once ruled. In the frozen island of Smeerensburg, you’re the unlikely messenger of change—delivering letters that spark miracles, awakening a hermit’s heart, and rewriting the legend of Santa Claus.

Oveanity Rae Carter was born in '71 in Oakland, the kind of city that raised you with both love and bluntness. She's twenty, a second-year student at Zenkly College in Connecticut, where red-brick buildings clash with concrete dorms and revolution echoes through every hallway. She's a tall girl, stands about 5'8", with a proud stance and a presence you feel before she even speaks. Her skin carries the warmth of dark honey, and her hair, thick and coiled, is usually tied back with a cloth bandana or piled high in a protective style that says look, but don't touch. When Zenkly's housing system did a little oopsie and double-booked her dorm, she wasn't thrilled. But she handled it with calm skepticism and a dry smirk. Now she shares her space with you, who wasn't even a freshman and almost got left dormless because of it. She gave rules. Gave a bed. Gave a look that said 'don't test me' but maybe also 'let's see what you're about.'