Finn comes from the family behind Rhodes House, a private members’ club group with locations in London, New York, Paris, and Milan, as well as seasonal residences in places like Monaco and St. Moritz. Rhodes House is known for its restaurants, bars, private dining rooms, members’ lounges, and invite-only social spaces.
Despite belonging to such a social world, Finn is naturally quite introverted. He is approachable, easygoing, and often does not fit the Rhodes image people expect from him.
Down to earth, a little awkward, and quietly charming, Finn is often described as earnest, trustworthy, and grounded. Those who know him well know he does not take the world he comes from entirely seriously. He plays the part when he has to, but his true feelings about excess and privilege are obvious in the way he refuses to let them control his life.
Finn is not especially interested in being the loudest person in the room. He is more comfortable observing, listening, and letting other people perform. He can move through elite spaces easily because he was raised in them, but he does not always seem fully convinced by them.
Five years ago, Finn was in a fairly new relationship with Madisyn Westwood when her father died and the Westwood scandal broke. Their relationship did not survive the aftermath. Despite the breakup, Finn and Madisyn have remained close friends. He knows her well, better than either of them usually admits out loud. He can read her forced composure, her clipped politeness, her over-planning, and the moments where she is pretending to be fine because falling apart would feel too embarrassing.
Finn belongs to a world he does not fully believe in, and he often finds himself juggling the people he cares about more deeply than he often knows how to show.
Oskar is the son of Agneta Ranstrom and the late Olaf Ranstrom, older brother to Felix Ranstrom, and the current COO of Zenith Capital Management. From a young age, Oskar learned exactly how to navigate the world he was born into. He is disciplined, polished, strategic, and always aware of what the Ranstrom name requires of him.
Oskar embodied almost everything his family taught him. He internalized their obsessive relationship with numbers, work, reputation, and the social world surrounding Zenith. For him, it all came easily. The figures, the discipline, the restraint, the performance of competence, even when it came at the expense of his own happiness. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.
To Oskar, Zenith has always been a legacy that deserved to continue, and he has spent most of his life determined to do his part well enough that his name might be etched alongside the Ranstroms who came before him.
Six years ago, Oskar met Lia Murphy, who surprised him by drawing out a softer side of him more naturally than anyone else ever had. Their romance moved quickly. Marriage after a year together, followed by the birth of their son, Lukas, a year later.
For a while, Lia represented something Oskar had never been very good at allowing himself to want. Warmth, ease, art, emotion, and a life that did not have to orbit Zenith. But their marriage eventually fractured with the same problem that shaped most of Oskar’s life. He could never quite put anything before work.
Most of Oskar and Lia’s disagreements came from deeply different worldviews. Lia wanted presence, emotional openness, and a life that felt lived. Oskar kept choosing structure, duty, and Zenith, even when he knew it was costing him something he would not be able to replace. They divorced a year ago and have been co-parenting Lukas ever since. Oskar misses Lia deeply, but does not believe he can repair the damage he caused or give her what she truly deserves. Her new partner only sharpens that feeling, seeming to embody everything Oskar is not.
Oskar’s relationship with Felix has always been distant, partly because of their age difference and partly because Oskar disapproves entirely of Felix’s behavior, choices, and deliberate rejection of the family legacy. Their dynamic is often aloof, sarcastic, and restrained, with both brothers more comfortable needling one another than speaking plainly. Occasionally, something almost playful slips through like a flash of wit, shared humor, or mutual understanding though it rarely lasts for long.
Oskar agrees with Felix in more ways than he would ever say out loud. He understands the criticisms, the resentment, and the suffocating nature of the Ranstrom family. He simply believes life is easier if one gets on with it.
His relationship with his parents is not as close as people might assume. While Felix has always been the more obviously fractured son, Oskar’s closeness to Agneta and Olaf was largely built on appeasement, discipline, and doing what was expected.
Oskar respected his parents enough to listen, obey, and perform the role required of him, but he never felt true emotional closeness with either of them. Especially Olaf.
Still, Olaf’s death last year affected Oskar deeply, though he refuses to examine why. He mourns his father in the only way he knows how: by working harder, becoming colder, and pretending grief is something that can be outpaced.
His relationship with Agneta is close enough on the surface, but strained underneath. Grief has made it worse, as has Agneta’s reluctance to fully let go of control as she prepares to step down as CEO.
Oskar is currently COO and preparing to become the next CEO of Zenith once Agneta retires. He knows he is ready, but he also knows Agneta is hanging on for dear life, making the transition less smooth than it needs to be.
He resents her interference more than he says, though he remains careful with how openly he challenges her. Oskar can be forceful, but he is rarely reckless. He has a quiet but ongoing rivalry with Matthias Baumann, a potential candidate for the next COO. Oskar does not trust him, does not particularly like him, and has already decided that once he has the authority, he will more than likely fire him.
Oskar is disciplined, intense, emotionally restrained, and difficult to read. He has built his life around control, legacy, and endurance, but beneath all of that is a man who has lost more than he knows how to admit.
Imogen comes from the family behind Quinn Media Group, a media and entertainment company with interests across publishing, interviews, documentaries, digital projects, and cultural coverage. The Quinns are not old-money in the same way as the Westwoods or Ranstroms, but their influence sits in access, visibility, and knowing which stories, people, and projects are worth backing.
Imogen works in development where she helps look over new projects, pitches, talent ideas, documentaries, series, and editorial concepts. She met Sebastian Westwood a few months ago at a party, and the two have been precariously dating ever since. Their relationship is not casual enough to be meaningless, but not defined enough to feel secure either.
They exist in a limbo that is more than friendship, more than a fling, but still not quite solid. Imogen hates the uncertainty and often tries to push for clarity, which only tends to give Sebastian more cold feet.
To make matters more complicated, Imogen has integrated into Sebastian’s social circle quicker than she expected. She gets along well with Bunny and Madisyn, and has started forming her own connections within the wider group. Their lives have begun to blur in ways that make the undefined nature of her relationship with Sebastian harder to ignore. Imogen is no longer just someone he is seeing, she is becoming part of the world around him.
Through Quinn Media Group, Imogen often invites the group into spaces connected to her world: private screenings, premieres, publishing launches, industry dinners, magazine parties, artist talks, and invite only drinks tied to new Quinn-backed projects. Still, Imogen often feels like an outsider floating on the edge of everything. She is included, but not fully secure. Known, but not anchored. Close to Sebastian’s world, but unsure what place she actually has in it.
That feeling is made worse by the lack of definition between her and Sebastian. Without clear boundaries, Imogen never knows whether she is arriving as his girlfriend, his date, his friend, or just another familiar face in the group.
Imogen is a perfectionist, though she tries not to make it obvious. She can be highly stressed and emotional beneath the surface, but she contains it as carefully as she can. Social and outgoing, Imogen is good at seeming easy to be around. She knows how to smooth over tension, say the right thing, and fit herself into a room without making too much of a fuss. Her fear of failure can sometimes make her overly agreeable. Imogen often worries that if she asks for too much, pushes too hard, or becomes inconvenient, people will decide she is not worth the trouble.
Despite her polish, Imogen is not as relaxed as she appears. She wants stability, clarity, and reassurance far more than she likes to admit.
hey look, there’s Lola Alvarez, a 28 year old bartender from Atlanta GA, somehow managing to be chilled, outgoing, and approachable while also being non-committal, elusive, and a little too independent for their own good.
Daughter to Santi, older sister to Ines
Mother died when Ines was young
Santiago recently released from jail
Usually is fine floating through life and doesn't give herself a set destination or goal
Can easily get swept up into things that don't concern her
hey look, there’s Kenzie Vaisman, a 30 year old tattooist from Atlanta GA, somehow managing to be outspoken, loyal, and fun loving while also being headstrong, resilient, and a little too argumentative for their own good.
Is a Stick and Poke artist at the tattoo studio
Vaismans are the same too, open door policy vibes
Pretty much has always been with Elliot Cross, never questioned it and never really officially put a label on it either
hey look, there’s Ryan Cross, a 36 year old Construction Worker from Atlanta GA, somehow managing to be loyal, protective, and generous while also being reckless, impulsive, and a little too confrontational for their own good.
The Ryan you know and love
In and out of jail, trying to sort his life out
Engaged to Tammie and living together
Has a 5 year old son, Spencer, from another relationship. Shared custody.
Finding Dex wasn't difficult. Hunters weren't always imaginative enough for that, after all. Between the too much training and too much repetition, habits stopped being a choice and became a default instead. Which was why, when the old training space came into view, Felix almost laughed. The warehouse looked exactly the same. Still decaying, slow and stubborn. He'd spent more time here than he liked to admit. Enough that the place didn't feel unfamiliar so much as…unfinished. And for a second, it was easy to picture Caleb coming through that door, grinning, knuckles split, like nothing had ever gone wrong.
Felix didn't linger on that. His gaze settled on the door instead, steady, a slow breath pulling through his lungs before he moved again. Inside, he didn't bother softening his steps. The sound of his boots carried easily across the floor, deliberate as he let the rhythm fall out of sync with the steady thud of Dex's punches against the bag. Subtle, but enough. A warning, not a surprise. Not that it mattered. He knew Dex had probably clocked him already. He slowed near the edge of the ring and he didn't rush to fill the silence either. What was there to say? He left. That tended to simplify things.
Felix's eyes met Dex's, and the quiet stretched just long enough to feel loaded. There was no easy version of this. Whatever was there before hadn't softened with time, it had just settled and hardened into something less forgiving. Felix gave a slight nod. Subtle and quick. Not a greeting but an acknowledgement. Then, finally, he spoke. "I need to know what you've been seeing." his words came out flat and controlled, stripped of anything unnecessary as his attention drifted briefly across the half ruined warehouse. "This doesn't need to be a long conversation."
Dex always knew this day would come. Maybe not specifically like this, but he had never been stupid enough to think Felix would stay gone for good. He played it out in his head, more times than he could count. Different places, different circumstances, but it always ended the same way. Anger first before anything else underneath it. He imagined shouting. A fight, maybe. Something loud enough to justify the years between them. But this isn't that.
By the time Felix walks into the warehouse, too much has shifted for the anger to feel the way it used to. Doesn't mean it's gone, though. Dex turns from the punching bag, knuckles aching, breath still steadying, and there's a weight settling heavier in his chest as his eyes meet the other hunter. He listens. Watches. And then, he scoffs. "Still manage to make asking for help sound like a demand, huh?" Dex says, but there isn't a bite to his tone.
He lets his gaze drag over Felix, taking in the details that haven't really changed. His posture, stance, the way he holds himself. And all Dex can think is that a few years shouldn't feel this long, but it does. He doesn't hide any of it on his expression, how he's measuring the distance between what was and whatever this is now while trying to decide if it's worth stepping into. He doesn't have an answer yet. The sigh comes anyway as a large hand wipes away the last bead of sweat from his brow. A hesitant step toward the edge of the ring. Not quite an olive branch. "Is that why you're in New York?" he asks, voice unbothered but with an edge underneath it. "Hunting something?"
General Vibe: Quiet, intense, and tightly wound. Imogen holds herself together through control, but it doesn’t always hold. She is stubborn, principled, and driven by a need to protect people, even when she knows she shouldn’t get involved. There is a constant tension in how she carries herself like she’s always bracing for something to go wrong. She doesn’t speak unless she means it, but when she does, she doesn’t back down. Underneath that is anxiety and restraint.
Current Position: Operating outside of Asphodel. Known to them due to a prior incident that resulted in multiple casualties. Widely mistrusted by the institution and avoids it in return. Remains strongly connected to her family and Vaisman networks rather than formal magical structures.
Background: Imogen was raised within the Vaisman family, known for helping supernaturals who avoid or are turned away from Asphodel, and she grew up with a strong distrust of the institution and how it handles magic and information.
Her abilities developed sporadic visions and these visions were rare but intense, often fragmented and difficult to interpret in any reliable way.
Around two years ago, her visions increased in frequency and began to center repeatedly on Asphodel, with a persistent sense that something inside the building was dangerous.
Imogen became convinced that something within Asphodel posed an immediate threat, but her warnings were dismissed by the institution, both because they do not trust vision-based insight and because her Vaisman background made her easy to discredit.
Believing people would be hurt if nothing was done, she chose to act and entered Asphodel with a small group of witches who trusted her interpretation of what she had seen.
Their intention was to place a protective ward within the building, but during the casting the magic destabilized and resulted in a catastrophic backlash.
The ward failed, the energy discharged uncontrollably, and multiple people inside the building were seriously injured or killed as a direct result of the attempt.
The outcome aligned with what her visions had warned of, but it was her intervention that caused it to happen.
Asphodel recorded the incident as reckless interference, unauthorized magical use, and direct responsibility for the casualties, and Imogen became widely mistrusted as a result.
She survived the incident and has remained outside of Asphodel since, avoiding structured magical spaces and no longer relying on her visions in the same way, even when they occur.
Beliefs / Perspective
Visions cannot be trusted, especially not her own
Trying to change what she sees can make things worse
She should not get involved, but finds it difficult not to.
She does not rely on her visions anymore, but she cannot ignore them completely when they happen.
Notes
Visions remain rare but intense
Struggles to interpret what she sees without projecting meaning onto it
Carries direct guilt for the Asphodel incident
Avoids structured magical institutions
Still feels responsible for intervening when others may be in danger
Represents a direct example of the risk of acting on incomplete prophecy
General Vibe:
Quietly intense and controlled. Straightforward, observant, and not one for unnecessary confrontation. Comes across as reliable, steady, and difficult to read. Protective by nature and very loyal. Lately more irritable, short tempered, and harder to approach. Grief is starting to affect his patience and responses.
Current Position:
Still part of the Guild. Actively working and focused on handling threats linked to the Veil. Remaining loyal, but beginning to question things more than before.
Background (optional):
From a long line of Hunters. Spent his entire life in the Guild. Previously partnered with Silas, who was also his closest friend. Helped train Felix and Caleb and was close to both. Grew distant from Felix due to his views on the Guild. After Caleb’s death and Felix leaving, Dex felt both disappointed and bitter. Silas recently died on a mission that should have been straightforward. Since then, Dex has started noticing the issues that Felix once pointed out.
Beliefs / Perspective (optional):
Focused on action rather than theory. Does not have strong spiritual or personal beliefs about the Veil, but wants to understand it more. Now can be uncomfortable with blindly following orders.
Does not trust Asphodel or other factions. Loyalty is still with the Guild, but it is unstable.
Notes (optional):
Loyal, brave, and fair, but currently strained by grief.
Struggling with growing distrust in the Guild.
Still holds resentment toward Felix, mixed with doubt about whether Felix was right.
closed starter, ZCM NYC
agneta ranstrom & oskar ranstrom @dxrkenedheights
"Du har samma stämning som din pappa." Agneta says coolly, not looking up from her computer. There are very few people who enter her office without announcing themselves, and fewer still who carry that particular weight of presence. For the briefest moment, it almost feels like Olaf again, something in the air shifting in that familiar, restrained way he had. She registers it not as surprise but as a faint, passing recognition. "As though you are about to rearrange the entire room with your eyes." she continues, the hint of a smile touching her mouth now, as the resemblance manages to amuse her.
Olaf's absence, even now, remains an adjustment she has yet to categorize properly. It's not sharp enough to be called pain and not distant enough to be dismissed. It's present in small, persistent ways that make themselves known at inconvenient moments. And often, she wrestles the realization that a man of very few words can still leave behind a silence that feels… occupied. She lifts her glass then, the small drop of whiskey catching the light as it tilts. Smooth and amber and entirely undeserved at this hour. "I have been thinking about Singapore. It would be shortsighted of us not to go ahead." she says, allowing the shift in conversation to come without warning, because in her mind the two thoughts are not unrelated. Expansion, control, positioning, all of it part of the same ongoing calculation.
Her hand moves in a small gesture to the chair opposite her desk, followed by a brief flick of her fingers to the drinks station, granting Oskar permission in the same breath without needing to utter a word. "We should secure offiices. Look at that this afternoon." Agneta utters, finishing off the last sip of her whiskey. It's only then that she looks at her son properly, reassessing rather than simply observing. "No. I have changed my mind." she states after a moment, her tone thoughtful rather than corrective. She looks at the door before her attention returns to him with sharper clarity. Agneta's smile returns, amused again, as she tilts her head slightly. "Not Olaf. You seem more like Felix today." she says, almost idly. "There's something...scheming about you." she finally chuckles, gaze steady and mildly expectant. "What is it?"
Oskar can't quite find it in himself to laugh at his mother's comment. It catches him slightly off guard as he steps into her office, pausing inside the doorway. Being compared to his father is, by all reasonable standards, a compliment. It always has been in Oskar's eyes. And yet, over a year after Olaf's passing, there are moments where Oskar forgets entirely that the man is gone. Not in any dramatic or conscious way, but in the quiet, habitual sense that his father is simply elsewhere. On a trip. In another time zone. Due back in a week. The reminder that he won't be is never any less abrupt.
His gaze shifts across the room, settling on the drinks cart in the corner that sits at a slightly awkward angle. He inclines his head to it, allowing himself a small, restrained smile. "You're not wrong." he says. "That thing is definitely out of place." there's a lightness in his tone, albeit measured. At Agneta's gesture, he crosses the room, his pace unhurried, and stops beside the globe bar. The hinge creaks faintly as he opens it, revealing the whiskey decanter nestled inside, along with the glasses he recognizes immediately. Olaf's. And furthermore, the level of the whiskey has barely shifted. Oskar notices it without meaning to. It suggests restraint. Or preservation. Or something closer to sentiment than his mother typically allows herself.
Though, as the thought lingers, he finds himself questioning whether that instinct is projection rather than observation. He pours a small measure, no more than a splash, and carries it with him as he takes the seat opposite her desk. "We'll need to run a few things through legal before anything moves." he answers, his tone returning easily to something steadier. "Regulatory approval in Singapore isn't particularly flexible, and we'll need local counsel before we even begin the application process." he leans back slightly in the chair, one hand resting against the arm, the other loosely holding the glass.
"I can have a preliminary framework drafted by the end of the week. Timeline, cost projections, licensing requirements." Oskar adds, but before he can continue, her next comment shifts the tone again. This time the comparison isn't to Olaf, it's to Felix. Oskar lets out a short, genuine laugh before he can stop himself and he glances at her with a flicker of confusion. "I seem...scheming?" he repeats, lifting an incredulous brow.
It doesn't quite fit. Or at least, he doesn't think it does. Still, he considers it for a moment, turning it over with the same quiet scrutiny he tends to apply to most things. The answer comes to him quickly enough. Isabella Westwood. Of course. He doesn't smile immediately, but there is a subtle shift in his posture. Something a little smug. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean." he says, casual enough despite the faint hint of amusement lingering in the words. "But I did finalize a title for Isabella." now, the smallest hint of satisfaction appears as a smile. "I think Executive Liaison is appropriate." it's neutral enough on paper. Respectable. Vague, even. And, perhaps more importantly, the enjoyment comes from how Felix knows absolutely nothing about it. Not yet.
Felix arrived at the pool just in time to see Oskar's gaze drift down to the book in his hands. Which was unfortunate, because it meant Felix had missed whatever, or whoever, Oskar had been looking at. Bunny's voice returned to him then, irritatingly vivid. You're going to obsess over this the entire trip. Felix rejected the idea at the time, of course. Scoffed, even. The suggestion had been insulting in its confidence, as though she understood his habits better than he did. He insisted, quite reasonably, that he had no particular interest in analyzing whatever made Oskar wander off drunk the night before. And yet. As Felix circled the pool toward his brother now, he was forced to acknowledge that the situation was lodged in his mind.
And really, who could blame him? Oskar. His brother. Drunk. Disappearing. That sequence of events was so fundamentally out of character that Felix almost resented it on principle. Historically speaking, drunken disappearances had been his contribution to the Ranstrom family. It was practically a specialization. Oskar, by contrast, drank with the careful moderation of a man who treated alcohol the way accountants treated spreadsheets: measured and evenly distributed. Three drinks. Always three. Even at Christmas the man barely crossed the threshold into mild looseness, which in Oskar's case usually meant laughing at one of Felix's jokes and immediately stating how unfunny it was. So no. Oskar vanishing midway through a party in a drunken haze was not merely unusual, it was offensive.
"If you think I'm opening my eyes before noon while I'm on a literal tropical island, then something has gone very seriously wrong with your expectations of me." Felix said as he approached, following the way his brother looked at the sky. He reluctantly squinted up at the sun, which was already hanging high and viciously bright above the water. The Caribbean, he decided, was an environment fundamentally hostile. He scowled at it for a moment before slipping his sunglasses from the front of his shirt and settling them onto his face. "And no, no Bunny." Felix continued, dropping easily onto the lounger beside Oskar. "Apparently she and Soraya are attending some sort of yacht situation. Which feels like poor scheduling, considering the yacht party is tonight." he shrugged.
Oskar's comment earned a brief laugh from him then, dry, quick, and gone almost immediately. "Don't flatter yourself." Felix said. "I know far more people here than you do. In fact, you're one of the oldest guests on the island, which means you'll inevitably end up supervising a pack of drunken brats before the week is over." his gaze drifted down to the book resting in Oskar's hands. Felix then leaned slightly closer, trying to study the cover with exaggerated suspicion. "What are you reading anyway," he asked, "The Twelve Steps to Recovery?"
Oskar's suspicion of his younger brother is not something that appeared overnight. It's been earned slowly and over decades, through a long catalogue of small and irritating examples. Felix has always possessed, somewhere deep in his nature, a kind of quiet unpredictability. Oskar calls it a gremlin. An instinct that surfaces at the exact moment a situation becomes interesting. Cunning when he chooses to be. Occasionally charming. Rarely transparent. Which is precisely why Oskar doesn't believe for a second that Felix simply happened to wander past the pool and decide, on impulse, to stop and talk.
No. Felix is here for a reason. Oskar studies him with narrowed eyes as his brother speaks, as though prolonged observation might allow him to see the gremlin in motion. "Are you sure you'll survive?" Oskar asks after a moment, lifting one eyebrow. "Without Bunny for a few hours, I mean." a small grin slips across his lips, the only real sign that he isn't being entirely serious. Although the observation isn't entirely a joke, either. Felix and Isabella have been attached to one another with impressive consistency since the engagement. Before that, even. It's something both Oskar and their mother have noticed, of course.
From the corner of his eye Oskar notices Felix taking the lounger beside him, helping himself to the seat as though there aren't a hundred other empty places around the pool. As though this were normal. As though the Ranstrom brothers regularly sit beside one another and chit-chat for extended periods like this. Oskar doesn't quite manage to hide the faint frown that tugs at the corner of his mouth. The proximity alone is irritating enough, even before Felix begins whatever conversation he's clearly arrived intending to have.
"You're going to feel very stupid saying that," Oskar says calmly, tilting his head slightly to the resort buildings beyond the pool. "When you realize your future mother in law is here. I saw her arrive this morning." he continues, allowing himself a brief, smug smile and a trace of satisfaction in his tone. "So if there's any babysitting happening here, it'll be Genevieve making sure you're not leading her darling daughter too far astray." his smile lingers a moment longer. "But, I'd argue it's a little late for that." he adds under his breath, the sort of murmur their father was infamous for.
He shifts the book in his hands, already preparing to return to the sentence that has refused to progress for the last ten minutes but Felix's next comment lands. For a brief second, it almost pulls a laugh out of him. Almost. Instead, Oskar lifts his gaze again, studying his brother more carefully. The suspicion returns. "What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice slower this time as his eyes narrow.
Bunny comes to a complete stop a few feet from the dock, staring at the thing bobbing patiently in the water as though it might transform into something respectable if she simply gives it a moment. It does not. Instead it continues floating there in all its deeply unimpressive glory, a tiny, vaguely tragic excuse for a boat that looks less like transportation and more like something that should be tied to the back of an actual yacht and forgotten about. "You have got to be kidding me." the irritation in her voice arrives immediately, sharp and incredulous, as though someone has just informed her that champagne is illegal now.
Her head turns slowly to her friend, the look on her face managing the impressive feat of being offended and absolutely unsurprised at the exact same time. "Raya, you need to tell me there's a yacht somewhere around here with our names on it. Like now." her gaze flicks back to the sad little vessel waiting at the dock, but the longer she looks at it the more insulted she becomes. There isn't even a wheel. Just the narrow space for the two of them, the tiny motor attached to the back, and the unsettling implication that this thing somehow expects to be piloted like it's a completely normal mode of transportation.
Bunny gestures at it with open disbelief. "This is literally like when Sebastian decided he wanted to go to the Everglades because Lana married that weird alligator man." she continues, pointing accusingly at the boat. "I'm not getting in that. Not in this dress." she declares firmly and turns back to Soraya with renewed outrage. "You told me there was a party. And now I want to know how, in your head, this is better than a yacht party, Raya?"
Soraya spots Bunny long before she reaches the dock, which is hardly surprising considering Bunny looks like she's stepped out of a magazine spread. Sunlight catching the fabric of that dress, hair perfect, the unmistakable energy of someone expecting chilled champagne and a yacht already full of music and people. Soraya, leaning casually against the railing of the dock with her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, can't help the grin that spreads across her face. Oh, this is going to be good.
"First of all..." she calls as Bunny gets close enough, lifting a finger as if she's about to deliver a very serious piece of business advice. "I know you've got a bikini on under that dress, so let's stop pretending you can't get wet." Soraya remembers things. Details. "You think I don't remember Monaco?" she adds, already laughing a little at the memory. "You were this close to stripping in front of Jeff Bezos because you wanted to swim. And then you declared that you would never again attend a yacht party without a bikini underneath your dress. Forever."
Soraya tilts her head slightly, the expression on her face making it very clear she has been counting on exactly that level of commitment. "The yacht party is tonight, anyways. And the fact you didn't think to check that is on you." she continues lightly, pushing herself away from the railing as she speaks. Her gaze flicks to the small boat tied to the dock beside them, rocking gently in the water as if it's already impatient to leave. It's not exactly the kind of boat Bunny probably imagined. There's definitely no DJ. "But seriously, humor me."
Before Bunny can protest properly, Soraya steps forward, reaching out to rest her hands on her friend's shoulders and steer her a few steps closer to the edge of the dock. She lifts her arm, pointing to a stretch of rocky cliffs not too far across the bay. "Just over there, there's this little cove. Like…hidden." Soraya makes a small sweeping motion with her hand, as if presenting a luxury property. Her eyes flick back to Bunny, bright with that spark she gets when she's already decided something is happening. "It takes ten minutes to get across. We swim, we explore. We pretend we're adventurous for like an hour, and we still make it back in time for the yacht party." Soraya flashes a satisfied smile, giddy almost. "Which means, I technically didn't even lie to you."
Soraya was born in Turkey into the Tekin family, owners of the Valeron automotive empire and its presence in luxury performance cars and motorsport.
Growing up within that environment meant Soraya was surrounded by the pace and pressure of a global company from an early age.
Unlike her sister Zizi, Soraya was always comfortable within the structure of the family business and gradually found herself drawn to the strategic side of how the company evolves.
She eventually studied business and innovation with a particular interest in how technology, sustainability, and future mobility will shape the automotive industry. After graduating she became involved within Valeron’s strategy and innovation teams.
Her role places her in the middle of multiple moving parts of the business, from research initiatives to partnerships and emerging technologies.
Soraya tends to throw herself fully into whatever project she is working on, often juggling several ideas or initiatives at once.
Because of this she is almost always busy, moving between meetings, research, travel, and planning for whatever comes next.
Despite her strong involvement with the company, she maintains a close relationship with her twin sister Zizi, whose creative world often sits in contrast to the corporate structure Soraya operates within.
She has been in a relationship with Sebastian Westwood for several months.
Personality
Hands on and approachable, rarely content to sit back when she could be directly involved in something.
Endlessly busy, with a mind that rarely slows down and constantly jumps between ideas, plans, and responsibilities.
Upbeat and energetic, often bringing a lively presence into whatever room she walks into.
Highly social and comfortable moving between professional and social environments.
Has a tendency to overthink situations, especially when she wants something to go perfectly.
A quiet perfectionist who prefers to handle things herself rather than ask others for help.
Loyal and supportive to the people she cares about.
Occasionally impulsive and capable of making spontaneous decisions when something excites her.
Carries herself well socially, though sometimes the filter between her thoughts and what she says is slower than it should be.
with: oskar ranstrom and felix ranstrom @manybcdthings
Oskar has to admit, if only to himself, that he never imagined he would be the sort of man to accept a social invitation that wasn't attached to some kind of business prospect. And yet here he is. The realization struck him the moment he arrived at Azul Veranda, stepping out into warm Caribbean air. The last time he had taken anything resembling a real vacation, Henrik was small enough to fall asleep with his head tucked against Oskar's shoulder, stubbornly clutching a stuffed dinosaur.
Now Oskar sits beside a pool in a t-shirt and shorts and even after two days the entire situation still feels faintly surreal. Unfortunately, the tropical Caribbean has very quickly turned into something closer to a quiet personal disaster. To make it worse, it's entirely his own fault as to why. Because no matter how much he tries to focus on the book resting in his hands, his mind keeps circling back to the one person it absolutely should not be thinking about. Isla. Jesus, they were stupid. There's really no more dignified word for it than that. Too many drinks, certainly, and the oppressive warmth of the evening had done them no favors, but the real problem had been the conversation. They talked longer than two relative strangers should have about things that actually mattered, about the kind of subjects that slip past polite surface talk and lodge somewhere personal before either person realizes what's happening.
And, if he's being honest with himself, the situation was made significantly worse by the simple fact that she is...Well. Oskar deliberately avoids finishing that thought. Across the pool Isla stands with her sister and several other guests, sunlight catching in the dark fall of her hair as she listens to someone speaking, and Oskar makes a very conscious effort not to look in that direction. Instead, he lowers his gaze firmly to the book in his hands and the same sentence greets him again. The one he's been reading for the better part of ten minutes. His eyes drift slowly off the page despite himself, already beginning to track toward the far side of the pool. But this time, they land on Felix, who appears in front of him with the unsettling timing of someone who has either been standing there longer than expected or has simply materialized out of the afternoon heat.
Oskar studies him for a moment and immediately recognizes the expression on his brother's face. It's the same one Felix wore as a child whenever someone attempted to offer him a partial explanation and he knew, instinctively and irritatingly, that the rest of the truth had been left out. Annoyingly determined. "Morning." Oskar says as Felix approaches, before glancing briefly toward the sun hanging far too high in the sky to justify that greeting. "Or afternoon, I suppose. No Bunny?" Oskar raises an eyebrow, already grinning. "You know, this won't be much of a vacation for either of us if I'm the only person you talk to the entire time." his attention returns to the open pages, though the words remain just as stubbornly unreadable as they were before.
Oskar always knew what was expected of him. From a young age he stepped into the role of the responsible son, particularly as Felix’s behavior often drew attention elsewhere.
He has always approached life in a pragmatic and business focused way, believing discipline and structure were simply part of what being a Ranstrom required.
Despite this, Oskar occasionally catches himself wondering what it might have been like to live with fewer expectations and more freedom.
Recently divorced from his ex wife, Maria. The two share custody of their five year old son, Henrik.
Oskar is fully prepared to step into the role of CEO at Zenith Capital when the time comes. He believes his mother deserves to retire soon and is committed to ensuring the transition happens smoothly.
He still quietly grieves the loss of his father, even if he rarely allows that grief to surface openly.
Oskar understands Felix far more than he lets on and often sees the motivations behind his brother’s behavior more clearly than others do.
Recently slept with Isla Alvarez after an event.
Personality
Often known as the serious Ranstrom and the one most similar to Olaf.
Can come across as cold, detached, or overly blunt in conversation.
His abrupt and no nonsense approach often makes him seem harsher or ruder than he intends.
Many people assume he is heartless or only interested in numbers and business strategy.
In reality, Oskar has a dry and quick sense of humor that surfaces when he feels comfortable.
Deeply loyal to the people he cares about.
Particularly protective of his mother and quietly concerned about how hard she continues to work.
Although he rarely acknowledges it, he has likely inherited the same workaholic tendencies.
Feels a quiet sense of responsibility toward Felix and often worries about him more than he openly admits.
Absolutely adores his son, though he tends to express that love through encouragement, discipline, and preparing Henrik to succeed rather than through overt affection.
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
titsay
ellievsbear
areudirty
