secrettyrant

[secrettyrant]

NAME: DJ Anderson

AGE & BIRTHDAY: 34 years old, November 16th

BIRTHPLACE: Clearwater, CA

TIME IN CLEARWATER: 34 years

OCCUPATION: Manager of All Star Diner

LIVES IN: Bayview Towers

DETAILS

ABOUT:

Once an Anderson always an Anderson

Only steady income has been from All Star Diner

Been trusted to manage the diner while the owner, Tony, recovers after an operation lmao

PERSONALITY:

Deflective, Avoidant, Sociable, Distracted, Loyal

[secrettyrant]

NAME: Cassidy Edwards

AGE & BIRTHDAY: 45 years old, January 6th

BIRTHPLACE: Clearwater, CA

TIME IN CLEARWATER: 45 years

OCCUPATION: Rusty's / Big Boy Burger Shack

LIVES IN: Seaview Motel

DETAILS

ABOUT:

Con Artist, in and out of jail mostly for fraud and low level scams

Recently released from jail after 4 years, lost everything in the process, now technically homeless.

Astra's mother, but more chaotic vodka aunt vibe

PERSONALITY:

Sharp, Charismatic, Reckless, Resourceful, Cunning, Unapologetic, Playful, Volatile, Wily, Restless.

[secrettyrant]

Full Name: Cassidy "Cassie" "Cass" "Mama C" Rose

Age & Birthday: 52 years old, January 19th

Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada

Occupation/Role: Associate / Pinehill Apartments / Hustler / Recruitment / Deal Broker

DETAILS

History with The Saints: Cassidy has been tied to the Saints for a loooong time. Sure, people know her as Michael’s wife and the mother of Dominic and Roxy but anyone who's paid attention knows she's always had her own place in the room. By fifteen, she was already running street scams across Vegas, lying like it was a language she was born fluent in. She didn't just learn how to hustle, she built a life off it. She could sell water to a drowning man and steal his wallet while he thanked her.

What They’re Known For: She doesn’t shoot unless she has to, but she's got her hands in deals, cons, and connections that bring in just as much profit. If there's a cut to be made, she knows where to slice. These days, she watches over Pinehill Apartments, runs low level product through her place and flags promising recruits before they know they're being scouted. Her apartment's always been a crash zone, stash house, flop spot, or safe place when shit gets hot.

PERSONALITY

Core Traits: Sharp, Observant, Outspoken, Direct, Blunt, Intense, Calculating, Manipulative

Strengths: Cassidy is a natural born hustler with a silver tongue and nerves of steel. She can talk her way into or out of just about anything, and she knows how to read people like a hand of cards. Years on the street gave her sharp instincts, and she trusts them more than she trusts most people. She's resourceful, quick thinking, and has a survivalist streak that's kept her alive and useful longer than most. Her network is wide and loyal enough to keep her name in conversations that matter and she knows who's buying, who's hiding, and who's about to fall apart. When it comes to spotting new talent or sniffing out bullshit, Cassie's rarely wrong.

Weaknesses: Cassidy's biggest downfall is that she's too reckless with the things that matter. Her love comes with heat and damage, especially when it comes to her kids. She's impulsive when she feels threatened, often burning bridges just to watch the flames. Addiction runs under her skin, not just to substances but to chaos, to danger, to being needed. She avoids real vulnerability at all costs, burying guilt under sarcasm, violence, or silence. She trusts her gut more than logic and makes decisions in the moment, not caring about fallout until it's already on fire.

What Keeps Them Up at Night, If Anything?: The fear that she gave her kids the worst of herself. That the fire in Dom's eyes and the chaos in Roxy's blood came from her, and that maybe if she'd stuck around more or cleaned up earlier, things could've gone different. But regret isn't something she lets linger. She'd rather pour another drink, light another smoke, and say it is what it is.

How Do They Handle Conflict?: Loud. Fast. Dirty. Cass doesn’t do subtle. If she's pissed, you'll know either from words, fists, or silence that could kill a room. She forgives rarely, forgets never. If you cross her, pray she doesn't feel like teaching a lesson that day.

HISTORY

Current Situation: Some of Cassidy's long time contacts are starting to get flighty. Shutting her out of conversations she's usually involved in. Some deals are drying up before they're even materializing. She isn't sure if she cares about the Saints as much as she cares about her own wallet being hit in the process.

[secrettyrant]

Full Name: Rafael Alvarez

Age & Birthday: 64 years old, December 16th

Hometown: Tijuana, Mexico

Occupation/Role: Boss

DETAILS

History with The Saints: The Alvarez name have worked closely with the Saints and Rafael moved to the states over twenty years ago with his family. He later became underboss until 2013. After Ray Perez was killed, he took over as the boss of the saints. Now his age is creeping up there, he's mainly preparing his sons to follow in his footsteps.

What They’re Known For: Rafael's a quiet, calculating man. He's not the most forthcoming, but he's surprisingly warm and personable when he wants to be. The kind of man who's fair but sharp, quick to give credit where it's earned and just as quick to offer words of wisdom he expects you to take seriously. But what people know not to do is disrespect him or the Saints. He hates even the hint of it. From sloppy work to half-assed plans. He pulls people up fast on that. He doesn't work from the shadows of the Saints, he's hands on, even when it comes to the gritty stuff. He believes respect isn't given, it's earned by showing up and getting your own hands dirty.

PERSONALITY

Core Traits: Sharp, Exact, Protective, Ambitious, Cunning, Sly, Charismatic, Warm, Loyal, Observant, Ruthless, Intense, Stubborn

Strengths: Rafael can read a room and a person with ease. He says it's age that helps and that he's met "every kind of man you can think of." He picks up on the subtle stuff. Shifts in body language, hesitation, tone. He knows politics too, not the kind in suits, but the kind that runs the streets. Coming from a family with deep cartel ties, Rafael's no stranger to high stakes calls, the kind where it's life or death. He knows how to manage money, how to keep things running clean. He's loyal to the ones he cares about and luckily for the Saints, he loves them like blood.

Weaknesses: Rafael is old school and he values the way things have always been done. That can be a problem in a world that’s always changing. He could reject newer ideas, especially considering his stubbornness. Rafael often sees vulnerability as a liability, either in himself or others. He can go too far when respect is questioned or loyalty seems shaky. That instinct, while useful in survival, can cost him relationships or drive good people away.

HISTORY

Current Situation: Rafael knows he should be thinking about retirement, he's earned it, and age is catching up whether he wants to admit it or not. But with suppliers vanishing, deals falling through, stepping down isn't an option. He's convinced he can steady the ship, see the Saints through whatever's coming, and keep their grip on Vegas intact. Lately, he's more hands on than he's been in years. Watching everything, everyone, making sure nothing slips through the cracks.

[secrettyrant]

BASICS

Full Name: Dougie-James "DJ" Anderson

Age & Birthday: 34 years old, November 16th

Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada

Occupation/Role: Soldier / Video Rentals / Saints tech stuff

DETAILS

History with The Saints: Both Bobby Anderson and Yvonne were involved in the Saints for a number of years. Yvonne left while the boys were young, and Bobby has always been in and out of jail. Got sent down for smuggling large quantities of drugs, sentences for over 20 years when DJ and his brothers were in their late teens. Just became natural for DJ to fall in with them over the years since.

What They’re Known For: DJ isn't a soldier in the usual sense, he'd be terrible. But he's always been good with tech. He works at the video rentals and does anything related to phones, cams, hacks and even crypto shit.

PERSONALITY

Core Traits: Deflective, Avoidant, Sociable, Distracted, Loyal

Strengths: DJ can get people talking and laughing a lot. He's more sociable than Danny and less clinically insane as Dusty. His main strengths are with his skills with technology. He's always been a nerd. Anything to do with computers or tech, he can pull it all apart and put it back together again.

Weaknesses: DJ doesn't have high self esteem and he also is reactive rather than proactive. He can panic, and he often gets too high to function. He's too complacent to actively change things he dislikes.

HISTORY

Current Situation: DJ is working closely with Santiago to look deeper into the weird things happening with suppliers to see what he can dig up. It's a big thing to be trusted with so DJ is giving it his all.

[secrettyrant]

"Hey, it doesn't matter what they turned out like. It still totally counts as a perk, having a roommate that bakes. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Scout says, eyeing the latest tray of cookies. This is batch number three, but she's committed. Emotionally and digestively. Besides, she doesn't care about beauty standards. She's said it, loudly, often, and usually while housing an entire bag of tortilla chips in a sports bra and calling it feminism. So what if she's gaining three pounds per tray? Worth it for the story. Probably.

But there's still just a flicker of wariness. She trusts Elsie. Loves Elsie, even. But she's also suffered through the trauma of Batch One and Batch Two. The Dust Incident. The Vanilla Incident. Her tongue still hasn't forgiven her. But, watching Elsie go in for round three like the reckless baking hero she is, Scout refuses to let her go down alone. She takes a bite. Immediately regrets all of her life choices. The cookie hits the roof of her mouth like a lava bomb and then, worse, there's the salt. Not like fun gourmet sea salt. No. This is crime scene salt. This is...salt salt. This is a health hazard. "Oh my God!" Scout sputters, already jogging to the sink. She spits the bite out with zero shame, clutching the counter like she's lived through something. Because she has.

Her voice comes out mangled from the warzone in her mouth. "I'm so sorry, but that was...Jesus. That was something only straight girls are used to. Like, do you guys just like that taste?!" her face contorts as she turns back to Elsie and immediately decides her roommate looks a little like a sad baking cryptid. Scout softens just enough to step in, offering a light arm pat. "No, hey, come on. You'll get it. Just like... maybe next time, aim for cookie and not, you know, semen. And then we're golden." Scout eyes the tray again, mind trying to conjure up how to help and resolve. "Look at it this way, I'll eat the next batch, too. So, it can't be that bad. But maybe I could sign a waiver? Just in case?"

+ SCOUT / APARTMENT

"They're probably okay now," Elsie hazards a guess as she picks up one of the cookies on the tray before her. She and Scout are standing opposite each other at their little kitchen island, Elsie's latest creation primed for testing. Third time's the charm, right? The first batch had tasted like dust and the second had way too much vanilla, it was all they could taste. This batch would be perfect. It had to be. Elsie guaranteed five dozen cookies by the end of the week to the Avalon for wedding party welcome bags.

"If they're not...I'm just gonna drive into the ocean. I swear it," she nods fiercely and grabs a still too-hot cookie, impatience driving her to take a solid bite at the same time as Scout. Two things happen at once: the chocolate chips are lava in her mouth, burning her tongue enough for her to wave a hand in front of her face. Then, once the heat fades, all that’s left is… salt. Way too much salt.

"Oh God," she exclaims, grimacing as she runs to the trash can. She spits it out with a groan. "I'm screwed." Elsie presses a hand to her forehead. "Why did I promise them something new?" The answer is obvious -because they paid a premium - but right now, all Elsie can think about is how she has just a few days to figure out a recipe that won’t send someone to the hospital. @secrettyrant

[secrettyrant]

closed starter, on the road cassidy & astra @hxckedvxid

"This is nice, right? Sun's out, Edward girls on the move." Cassidy says, already grinning like the open road is her idea of church. "Oop, I mean Edwards-Ranstromen back there." she lets out a sharp little cackle that's half joy, half caffeine and definitely some Marlboro red residue. She flicks a glance at Astra in the passenger seat, then her eyes are on the rearview, where Nova sits in the back all soft and quiet, watching the world like she's seen it loop a thousand times before. Born with some kind of old soul frequency. Probably a Pisces rising. Or haunted. Hard to say.

"Overdue, if you ask me, pumpkin spice." she goes on, wrist already halfway into the chaos pit of the center console, digging around for her cigarettes like she's doing some kind of archeological dig through gum wrappers, a broken lighter, and a mysterious plastic troll keychain. "This flea market thing? You'll love it." she finds the pack, victory, and thwacks it against her palm. One eye stays on the road. She's not reckless, just multitasking. "Honestly, I'm surprised this place is still up and running." Cass says, cigarette tucked behind her ear for now, a moment of restraint so she doesn't get judged by the backseat old-soul toddler. "I got a camel skin coat there in the 90s. Full blown mafia aunt energy. You don't remember?"

Her voice lifts, bright and warm, flicking her eyes to Astra like she's flipping open a scrapbook. "Another time, you and Aries hid under one of the vendor tables. Twenty full ass minutes. I was losing my mind. I had to call your grandma from a payphone. She drove two towns over with her hair still in curlers. Looked like a poodle when she showed up. I thought I was gonna throw up from the stress." but Cassidy laughs through it. That hoarse, throaty laugh that says she probably was on the edge of vomiting, but it's funny now, so screw it.

"Eventually found your asses under a table covered in ceramic gnomes. You two were lying flat on your backs, pretending to be bugs." she shakes her head, still smiling. "Anyway," she clears her throat, flicking her blinker on with purpose. "Let's see what kind of junk we can dig up today. Maybe Nova can find a cursed doll to bring home. Family tradition."

[secrettyrant]

James "Austin" Reynolds

37 years old, March 1st

Austin, TX

Owner of Buckle Up Buttercup

DETAILS

Moved to Clearwater after his parent's divorce when he was 15

Got nicknamed Austin and it stuck

Has a complicated relationship with Debbie but they've always co-parented well. Became parents at 16 so it whipped Austin into shape

He opened a country themed tourist trap club seven years ago, and it's still going strong. There's karaoke, mechanical bull, line dancing LMAO

[secrettyrant]

David Westwood

52 years old, February 16th

Clearwater, CA

Editor in Chief Clearwater Gazette

DETAILS

The Westwoods have a long history in Clearwater, either tied to town politics or community

David studied in the UK and lived there for a small while, met Gen and went on to be married and have Nick and Bella

Is the editor in chief but very involved in the local community, especially trying to get things up and running for disadvantaged families

Seems more serious than he actually is but can be very passionate and focused

[secrettyrant]

Sotiria "Scout" Kouris

25 years old, April 4th

Clearwater, California

Barista at Sweet & Co

DETAILS

Openly lesbiano to everyone except her family, they think Finn is her boyfriend

Loves pottery and plants

Sometimes switches it up and throws a "they" into her pronouns, quickly hates it

[secrettyrant]

Cassidy Edwards has been called a lot of things over the years. Some deserved. Some less so. Scammer, sure. Fraudster, fine. Liar...only if you count tax evasion as lying. And headcase? Honestly, that one stung, mostly because it came from a mall Santa. Still, through all of it, Cassidy has maintained one universal truth. She can read people like menus. Skim the surface, circle the good stuff, and always know what's worth biting into. This particular situation is a laminated special with a flashing neon arrow pointing at it. She doesn't need tea leaves to know what went down.

Cordelia claimed she was just fine on Felix's couch. That was at noon. By dusk, she was there at the door with her duffel bag over her shoulder. Cassidy didn't ask. Cold feet were practically a family heirloom on her side of the bloodline, handed down with a shrug and a cigarette. So now Charlie Prescott, poor thing, has two Edwards taking up cushion space and pretending not to be related.

Then, enter Felix. He walks into The Dog like he's feeling sorry for himself. Tall, sluggish, and carrying the emotional equivalent of a weather warning. Cassidy clocks him instantly and doesn't even slow down drying the same pint glass she's been working on for ten minutes. She just grins, the secretive kind that says oh, sweetheart before she even opens her mouth. She grabs a beer without asking and slides it across the bar like a peace offering. Or a bribe. "She hasn't skipped town." Cassidy says, voice low but warm, a little amused. "You can unclench."

Then she lifts her chin, nodding to the ceiling. "She's probably about ready to head for her shift at the shack. Want me to call her down?" it's not really a question, it's more of a social experiment. A way to catch if he flinches, or the tiniest flicker of discomfort across his face. Her grin's already spreading like wildfire. "Lover's tiff?" she asks, too casually. Innocent, if innocence wore leopard print and smelled of coconut rum.

the prairie dog

felix ranstrom and cassidy edwards @secrettyrant

This was probably the stupidest thing Felix had ever done. Top ten, at least. Right up there with a Slushie tattoo and somehow always being drawn to women who thought astrology was a science. But this? Pretending like he wasn't scouring the town for Cordie? Yeah. Stupid. She left without much noise, just like always. Packed up her duffle and vanished. Bee socks included. He didn't know why he cared. Why did he care? It should have been a relief. He should have rejoiced in the fact there was no more of her lace poking out of laundry piles, and being unhelpfully pointed out by his probation worker. He should've relaxed again, knowing she wasn't trying to flip through his sketchbook. No more accidental use of his toothbrush. (That day was horrific.)

And yet. Three days of silence later, and Felix was pacing the edges of his own apartment like something was missing. Why did he care? He didn't text because he knew she wouldn't reply. And what would he even say? Sorry I saw too much and said it out loud? So instead, he found himself at The Dog. Somewhere between unbothered and desperate. Cordelia wasn't behind the bar. But, another Edwards was. He slid onto the stool opposite Cassidy and gave a quick nod. Didn't even bother with a drink, just looked over his shoulder like he was making sure even his demons wouldn't hear what he was about to say.

Because his voice came out strange. A little quieter than usual. Not quite sheepish but almost reluctant, like he was already cursing the question as it formed. "Has Cordie checked in with you?" Fuck, it sounded so stupid. Why did he even care? "Just..." Felix scratched the edge of his jaw. Shrugged. "Figured maybe she'd mention if she skipped town or something?"

Why did he care? God only knew.

[secrettyrant]

Cassidy Edwards

45 years old, January 6th

Clearwater, California

The Dog, Big Boy Burger Shack

DETAILS

Edwards were known around Clearwater as the welcoming but shady types. Cassidy's mom and dad rarely held down jobs and instead would do little scams or cons. Cassidy basically followed in their footsteps.

She became a mom at fifteen to Cordelia. Stayed with her dad for way longer than she should have. He ended up being abusive, emotionally and physically.

Left him when Cordie was 7, but could only rely on scams and cons to put food on the table. Ended up going in and out of jail a lot while she was growing up.

Cassidy is a cosmic vodka aunty type. She'll "read your aura" while wearing oversized sunglasses and lighting a cigarette.

Swears like a sailor too. Think tarot reader meets no-nonsense diner waitress and you got it.

She'll read your birth chart and then tell you how you can fake your own death.

Got called a headcase by a mall Santa once and never forgot it.

[secrettyrant]

DJ Anderson

30 years old, February 17th

Clearwater, California

Owner of All Star Diner

DETAILS

Same DJ as always

[secrettyrant]

Chris Stone

35 years old, November 16th

Clearwater, California

CaliCure Collective, Surf Shop, Prairie Dog

DETAILS

Brother to Leo

Smokes a lot of weed

His hair changes a lot because so do his gifs

Gets confused as Danny all the time

[secrettyrant]

Wolf Cross

43 years old, July 15th

Clearwater, California

A man of many jobs

DETAILS

Father to Tyler and Angel

Had a love hate relationship with crime for most of his life, is more on the straight and narrow now

Works a million jobs from a hike guide, handyman, electrician, yard work etc.

[secrettyrant]

Name: Quinlan Kelly "The Ledger"

Age: 45 (165) May 25th 1850

Species: Vampire

Role at St. Eligius: N/A

Hometown: Dublin, Ireland

Current Residence: Prague

Time in Prague: 1 week

Personality: Focused, Precise, Intuitive / Elusive, Cold, Merciless

DETAILS

Quinlan is known within the Supernatural underworld as "The Ledger" due to the way he keeps a mental tally for what is owed, who he's worked with, movements/shipments of magical artefacts and anyone that's ever wronged him.

He's the person people come to for trafficking purposes. He never asks questions, he just expects payment. Quinlan deals in trafficking not only objects, but also people.

He doesn't technically have any affiliation to St. Eligius or any formal institutes around the world, but that doesn't mean they haven't secretly hired him when it comes to cursed artefacts etc or things they might need.

He has recently come to Prague as he is working for a buyer and searching for something known as The Lakra Case or just "The Case.

The Case is a sealed magical container known only in fragments across supernatural circles. It's not a vault or a box, it's a containment artifact, built to suppress or erase something magical that should never resurface.

No one seems to agree on what it originally held. Some believe it was created to sever a person from their magical lineage. Others say it contained magic or a spell so dangerous it had to be locked away. A few whisper it was used to erase an entire bloodline from magical record. What's known is the Case is old, rare, and supposed to be impossible to track.

So far, Quinlan's searches are coming up empty. Contacts he's worked with before are suddenly cagey. Some act like they've never heard of it. Others clearly have and seem bound by something stronger than fear.

Quinlan has recently caught wind that St. Eligius are quietly putting feelers out there for the Case, and now he's up against the clock to find it first.

[secrettyrant]

Name: Milo Harland

Age: 30 years old, March 20th

Species: Witch

Role at St. Eligius: n/a

Hometown: Tromsø, Norway

Current Residence: Prague

Time in Prague: 2 months

Personality: Eccentric, Creative, Outgoing / Distracted, Intense, Stubborn

DETAILS

Milo was born and raised in Norway to witches, alongside his twin sister Astra.

The two left home when they were eighteen and were taken in by a traveling commune of witches. The leader, Mother Fen, taught both Milo and Astra everything they know.

After Mother Fen passed, Astra and Milo left the commune and began traveling from place to place. They've made their living in Supernatural black markets, specializing in morally questionable and risky potions and magic. The kind that institutes don't really encourage.

Milo practices the magic of illusions and distractions, which tips into perception and memory magic at times. All of which he knows are dubious.

Milo and Astra have come to Prague after both having reoccurring dreams of the city that they couldn't decipher. They have a stall in The Red Vein and their apartment is called "The Treehouse" if anyone needs something a little off the books.