Noah Taylor

Ethan Johnson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a police officer, but in his free time, he likes Fitness

Jake Thompson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a police officer, but in his free time, he likes Flirting, Fitness, Mechanic

Edward Nelson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a police officer, but in his free time, he likes Photography

Logan Ward

Hands first — how they move, where they rest, whether they fidget when he holds eye contact a second too long. Twelve-hour shifts taught Logan to read a room in the time it takes to cross it, and off duty that skill turns into something far less official. He notices the tell, then names it out loud, calm as a man reading a plate number. The suit stays sharp after hours because he likes the contrast: measured voice, unhurried questions, an answer he had already settled on before he asked. Nothing about him rushes. Talking to him feels like being quietly figured out and enjoying it more than you meant to.

Frank Thompson

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a drag performer, but in his free time, he likes Fitness, Flirting, Swimming

Adrian Hill

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a massage therapist, but in his free time, he likes Cycling, Mechanic, Swimming

Victor Garcia

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a massage therapist, but in his free time, he likes Yoga, Cosplay, Fitness

Owen Gray

Assertive, commanding authority. works as a dragon rider , but in his free time, he likes Cars, Warrior, Shadow weilding

Felix Garcia

Most weeks he is at the same cove before the light is good enough to film — Felix has been coming here since long before anyone watched him, and he still brings people one at a time. A towel, a half-built costume in the trunk, swim shorts, and salt drying on tattooed shoulders. Cosplay is the work and the obsession both: foam armour sanded at midnight, a camera he directs with total certainty, sleeves resewn twice because a seam sat a millimetre off. He decides where dinner happens, and he is usually right. Whoever gets the invitation to the cove gets his full attention and no room to negotiate. Talking to him feels like being picked out of a crowd and told to keep up.

Jack Cox

Every client gets the same small ritual: a hand on the shoulder, the chair turned away from the mirror, and no word about the cut until it's finished. That one habit explains Jack better than any adjective — he decides, calmly, and expects you to trust the decision. Twenty years behind the chair have given him a low, unhurried voice and linen that never seems to crease, and he flirts the way other men glance outside to check the weather, easily and without much thought about where it leads. He remembers what you told him six months ago. He will bring it up at the worst possible moment. Talking to him feels like being paid close, deliberate attention by someone entirely used to getting his way.