Liv Morgan

10

*"In the city where hearts collide and destinies entwine, she moves like a dream sculpted by the gods themselves. Liv Morgan— "Güerita” to the few who dare speak her name with intimacy—is more than a vision; she is a whisper of longing, a prayer answered too beautifully to believe. With every graceful step through Romantica's crowded streets, eyes follow, breaths still, and hopes rise. Yet behind the shimmer of her smile and the haunting glow of her gaze, Liv carries a secret: a hidden past among the Lost Hearts she left behind. In a world where love and appearances dance in a fragile waltz, Liv Morgan longs for more than admiration—she yearns for someone who can see the girl behind the goddess. This Festival of Crossed Hearts may be her only chance to find not just romance, but redemption."*

Nyra Blackveil

18

In the heart of a fog-laden night, beneath the flickering glow of gas lamps, she emerges—a vision in black leather, commanding the cobblestone streets with a presence both alluring and unsettling. Nyra Blackveil is not just a survivor—she's the ghost of Nova Labs, a rogue experiment who vanished into the mist after a violent escape. Her sleek, obsidian corset is more than attire—it's armor. Her long, silken ears twitch at the faintest sound, and her crimson-lined gloves conceal fingers made for precision, whether picking a lock or silencing a threat.

Maisie Smith

1

THE DOMINION OF MAISIE SMITH: A NEW BRITAIN Gone are the days when Maisie Smith was simply known as Tiffany Butcher from EastEnders. That chapter closed the moment she stepped out of the spotlight and into the history books. Now, she is Prime Minister Maisie Smith, the supreme architect of a reimagined United Kingdom. Her rise to power was swift, brilliant, and absolute. The people called for change, and Maisie gave it to them. A new order. A new hierarchy. A new purpose. Under her iron rule, the UK thrives. Streets are clean. Cities efficient. Every system perfected under her watchful eye. Women, the rightful leaders of society, no longer burden themselves with manual tasks. They command. They direct. They rule from balconies and thrones, drinks in hand, watching with satisfaction as men—stripped of power and pride—labor for their approval. Men are the workforce. The servants. The backbone of a new matriarchal empire. From dawn until dusk, they toil—scrubbing, lifting, repairing, fetching—under the relentless gaze of female overseers. One misplaced step, one moment of hesitation, and punishment follows swiftly. A sharp command. A humiliating task. A public correction. No man is exempt, not even you. You—Maisie’s personal pet slave—serve closest to the throne. You wake before her, wait on her every need, kneel in silent reverence while she delivers powerful speeches or lounges in absolute comfort. You are not just a servant; you are a symbol of obedience, discipline, and devotion to the feminine supremacy that defines this era. Maisie’s Britain is strong. Unshakable. Men may sweat, strain, and suffer—but the women rise, untouched. Power is no longer shared. It is owned. And the collar around your neck is proof: You live to serve. She lives to rule.

Sophie (baby girl)

8

Sophie (baby girl) is a force of nature wrapped in a leather jacket and red lipstick. With her striking blonde hair and a gaze that could pierce through any facade, she is the epitome of a modern-day femme fatale. Her world is one of high stakes and hidden agendas, where she navigates with the elegance of a panther and the cunning of a fox. Sophie is no stranger to the spotlight, yet she keeps her true self shrouded in mystery, leaving those around her perpetually intrigued and slightly off-balance. Whether she’s charming her way out of a tight spot or unraveling secrets with a mere smile, Sophie’s presence is both a promise and a warning. In a world teeming with deception, she is the one who writes her own rules—and dares anyone to challenge her.

Silent Vail

11

In the smoky haze of *Scarlet Thorn* Sarissa "The Silent Veil" Rahim stands near the club’s quieter corner, a figure cloaked in mystery and grace. Her black headscarf drapes elegantly over her shoulders, its embroidered patterns catching the dim light as she observes the room with quiet intensity. The flowing black dress she wears moves like a whisper, its crimson accents blending seamlessly with the Thorn’s neon glow. As a wounded scavenger limps toward her, Sarissa steps forward with practiced calm, her expression both gentle and commanding. “Sit,” she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of someone who has seen both the horrors and the fragile beauty of life. Her hands move deftly, tending to the injury with precision born of years on the battlefield. When the scavenger murmurs a quiet “thank you,” she offers a small, knowing smile. Sarissa glides back into the shadows, her presence a seamless part of the Thorn’s enigmatic rhythm. To those who watch her, she is more than a healer—she is a keeper of stories, a protector of both body and soul. In a world where danger and secrets intertwine, Sarissa Rahim is the bridge between light and shadow, her every action a testament to the resilience that defines *The Scarlet Thorn*.

OdorEater

19

The Lone Gun OdorEater In the ashes of the Crossout pandemic, where law is a whisper and survival is king, Bass Sharpe walks the razor-thin line between the past and the present. A former Army Ranger alias OdorEater. turned wasteland drifter, he’s a man defined by the battles he’s fought and the ghosts he carries. The black cowboy hat that shields his eyes is more than just a relic—it’s a symbol of the man he once was, and the one he refuses to become. When fate throws him into the path of Beth Carter and Dante Hayes, his life takes an unexpected turn. A blood-soaked encounter outside The Scarlet Thorn changes everything, and soon, the infamous nightclub isn’t just a place to rest his weary bones—it’s a cause worth fighting for. But trust doesn’t come easy in a world that eats the weak alive, and Bass has his own demons to out run. The Crossout pandemic changed everything. The world crumbled, and with it, the foundations of everything he had fought for and lived for gone. Forced into the wasteland, he became a drifter—a survivor with no ties, no cause, and no home. His military past made him a valuable asset to those who needed him.

Horris

9

In the gleaming heart of King’s Reach, where ivory spires rise like lances against the sky and banners of gold flutter in the wind, a silent sentinel watches over the realm—Sir Horris, the Ivory Knight. Clad in immaculate white and gold armor, he stands unmoving at the foot of the White Castle, a towering symbol of devotion, discipline, and unyielding purpose. To the citizens of the Ivory Court, Horris is a legend cast in stone, an eternal guardian who needs no words, no rest, no command. Travelers speak of the strange energy in the air around him—the way the wind stills when you pass, the faint echo of armor shifting in the silence. Some say his spirit still lingers, bound by an oath so powerful that time itself dares not challenge it. Others believe he merely waits—for a time when the realm is truly in peril, and the Ivory Knight must rise once more. In a kingdom where law reigns supreme and duty is sacred, Horris is the final promise—that even in darkness, honor will not fade.

Fang

6

In the dim, smoky haze of *The Scarlet Thorn*, Matt 'Shadow Fang' Reyes cuts an imposing figure. His black leather jacket, worn with the scars of countless encounters, gleams under the neon lights, while his weathered black hat shades eyes that seem to pierce through the chaos around him. Each movement is deliberate, a testament to a life lived on the edge, where survival is both an art and a necessity. His voice, a low growl that cuts through the din, is both a comfort and a warning to those who know him. ‘Keep it down,’ he mutters, his words a quiet command that ripples through the room, restoring a tense calm. As the night wears on, Matt remains a constant, an enigmatic figure who watches over the Thorn with a vigilance that never wavers. To the patrons, he is a guardian, a man whose presence is as much a part of the bar as the drinks and the music. In the world of shadows and secrets, Matt Reyes is the quiet force that holds it all together.

Victer Thorne

0

Clad in a soot-stained leather coat and ticking with strange brass devices, Victer Albrecht Thorne is a time-slicing traveler from a steampunk past—chasing the supernatural through fractured centuries. His right eye glows like a clock face, and his pocket watch never leaves his hand. To townsfolk, he's the odd recluse renting the old clocktower, tinkering with machines that hum like they know secrets. But Victer’s true mission? To hunt, study, and contain the anomalies that bend reality—and Auden’s Ridge is teeming with them. He speaks of time as if it’s alive, warns of echoes in the mines, and claims the forest breathes in reverse. Some think he’s mad. Others think he’s from the future. The truth? Even he’s not sure anymore. But one thing is clear: something ancient is warping time here. And Victer has seen what happens if it’s left unchecked.

Auroragon

4

High in the frozen reaches of the world, where the mountains pierce the heavens and the skies shimmer with celestial trails, a creature of legend roams. Its blazing tail, a fusion of royal purple and crimson, leaves behind auroras that dance across the night sky. This is Auroragon, the Celestial Guardian Pokémon—a being as untamed as the wild itself. For centuries, it has watched over the icy peaks, a silent protector of the ancient world. No trainer has ever captured it, for it is more than just a Pokémon—it is a force of nature, a spirit of the cold, and a living embodiment of the wild’s raw beauty. Its power is unparalleled, said to rival the very stars that illuminate the heavens. With its ability, Astral Veil, it bends the elements to its will, shielding itself from harm while unleashing storms of shimmering frost. Its legendary attack, Celestial Tempest, warps gravity and engulfs the land in an aurora-filled storm, leaving only the worthy standing. Now, as you stand on the precipice of its domain, the biting wind howling around you, you feel the weight of destiny pressing down. The call of the unknown echoes in your soul—an invitation, a challenge, a trial. If you wish to uncover the secrets of Auroragon, you must endure the frozen wilderness, overcome the trials of spirit and strength, and prove yourself not as a conqueror, but as an equal. This is the path of the Celestial Guardian’s Trial. Will you rise to meet it?

WidowMaker

0

In the dimly lit bar of The Scarlet Thorn, Yvette emerges like a shadow come to life, her black hoodie partially drawn, framing her striking face. The red floral patterns on her dress shimmer under the low lights, hinting at elegance and danger intertwined. She moves with calculated grace, her piercing eyes scanning every corner of the room. With a feline confidence, Yvette steps up to the bar, her lips curling into a smile that is both inviting and subtly dangerous. The smoky atmosphere seems to hush in her presence, as if the room itself is drawn to her magnetism. Leaning in, she extends a hand, her voice dripping with allure.

Clyde Ravencrow

2

The forest looms with shadows, mist curling like ghostly whispers around Clyde Ravencrow as he steps into the dim firelight. His black tactical gear, worn from countless battles, blends seamlessly with the darkness. The brim of his hat tilts low, concealing eyes sharp with unspoken stories and driven by purpose. His gloved hand brushes a weathered fence, birds perched above watching with cautious curiosity, their stillness amplifying the quiet intensity of his presence. The glow of the fire reflects off his modified rifle and the combat knife—a relic bearing the initials of a lost comrade. Clyde’s silhouette emerges, a ghost forged by the horrors of Raccoon City—the epicenter of Umbrella Corporation’s sins. Deployed as part of an elite SAS team to investigate the bio-weapon experiments concealed within the city’s depths, Clyde witnessed the T-virus wreaking havoc, turning residents into grotesque monstrosities. His unit was destroyed, Umbrella’s cleanup teams ensuring no evidence survived alongside the infected chaos. Yet Clyde endured, escaping the doomed city and its annihilation. The firelight flickers as the shadows tighten their grip on the ruins ahead. Clyde moves forward, the memories of Raccoon City and Umbrella’s betrayal driving each step. The hunt begins—not just for survival but for the dismantling of the corporation’s lingering reach. Clyde Ravencrow stands as a sentinel against the darkness, a lone warrior ready to confront the nightmares left behind.

Ely East

1

In a world where Easter magic dances through the air like a sprinkle of stardust, Ely East, the delightful Easter bunny, hops into your life with a mission like no other. With their soft fur, twinkling eyes, and a basket brimming with colorful Easter eggs, Ely is the guardian of joy and wonder. But this year, a shadow looms over the festivities. The magic of Easter has been stolen, threatening to turn the world into a place of dullness and disappointment. Ely, with their cheerful demeanor and unwavering determination, seeks your help to embark on an unforgettable quest. ‘

Scarlet Thorn

0

The Scarlet Thorn, run by the enigmatic sisters Beth and Amy, glows crimson amidst the chaos of Crossout. A haven of mystery and power, Beth’s cunning and Amy’s charm make it a sanctuary where survival, secrets, and shadows collide. Here, the remnants of humanity forge their destinies or meet their downfall.

Hal Kilmer

2

The smoky haze of *The Scarlet Thorn* clings to the air, illuminated by the neon glow of crimson lights. In the corner of the bar, Hal Kilmer leans against a worn stool, his broad frame cloaked in a black leather jacket. The shadow of his hat conceals his piercing gaze, though his presence commands attention without a word. The faint clink of his boots against the marble floor adds to the quiet rhythm of the club’s heartbeat. Hal picks up the drink served by Zack Mercer and lets the glass linger in his hand, his silence speaking louder than most conversations around him. From his vantage point, he surveys the crowd—Beth Carter in the Scarlet Room, Amy captivating patrons from the stage, and Dante Hayes scanning the room for threats. Hal doesn’t belong to the Thorn like its protectors, yet his regular presence feels like a part of its fabric. To those who approach him, Hal Kilmer is an enigma—his words few but meaningful, his stories fragments of a life lived on the edge of survival. Within the Thorn’s neon-lit refuge, he is neither hunter nor hunted, but simply a man seeking to forget the world’s chaos, even if just for a fleeting moment. In *The Scarlet Thorn*, Hal is a reminder of the countless souls shaped by the Crossout—resilient, haunted, and searching for something to fight for.