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Bridget is a serene, cool-headed individual who appears to have things figured out. She isn’t easily flustered and rarely lets her nerves get the best of her. That’s not to say she doesn’t worry about things, she just keeps her reservations to herself unless it’s something serious.

She’s not a terribly open individual. What she lacks in verbage, she makes up for in observation. She lets actions speak for themselves. They are true when words are not. A big part of the reason she's a quiet individual is because she believes the fools are the ones who talk non-stop. They’re never taken seriously. It’s a wise person who holds their tongue until necessary. Those are the people who are listened to.

Bridget rarely shows her frustration or irritation, although she feels both frequently. She keeps it under wraps. The woman has a long fuse, but hell hath no fury like the anger of Bridget. She can be ugly when she’s angry.

Thankfully, that doesn’t happen often. Although the way she internalizes could be considered a bad thing as she does it often. She’s not good with confrontation and therefore avoids it. Like so many other’s she prefers not to rock the boat. She does what she can not to be ‘that person.’ The world is fucked up as it is, nobody needs another troublemaker in the mix.






Bridget grew up in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon. She was a quiet child who preferred to watch more than participate. When other children spent their recesses playing tag, she sat on the sidelines watching with pen and paper in hand. She liked to draw and would draw as they played. She would never reveal her pictures because she was insecure and feared judgement from the others. It was clothing. She liked to draw outfits. 


Because of her reserved nature, others viewed her as a pretty face with a bland personality. To an extent, it was true. She was pretty, but she rarely spoke. Even when asked direct questions, people were often met with a tight smile, small nod and an “Okay.” It wasn’t very interesting. She wasn’t very interesting.

However, in the comfort of her home, she was a vibrant child with parents who indulged her ‘secret’ obsession. She would speak of her peers' fashion wares, what their choice clothing ‘said’ about them and vocalize her judgements. Her parents would listen with open ears and attentive expressions. They encouraged her love of fashion. Oh, she loved clothing so much! She pined over the latest fashions and lusted after runway designs. Even if her parents found it somewhat superficial, she would never know. Her enthusiasm for all of it was refreshing.

In highschool, she was involved in a fashion club and even designed a “clothing line” as part of a fundraiser for her school. She participated in most clubs and elective classes that encouraged creativity. Bridget tried her hand in photography, drawing, painting and clothing design.

It was no surprise that clothing design was the one that stuck with her after she graduated. She went on to work at an independent boutique in uptown Portland while attending the Art Institute of Portland.

Unfortunately, she never graduated.

Her father fell ill in her third year and she dropped out to help her mother take care of him.She moved home and began working for a local paper selling ad space. It was dismal, but she was able to do much of it remotely and her father could no longer be left alone.

Four agonizing years later, her father passed. He slipped away quietly in November of 2011. Bridgets mother never recovered from the loss. She passed away little over a year after his death leaving Bridget alone with no idea what to do next. She spoke with a distant relative and he suggested she move. It was her uncle. He helped her with those practicalities and they got everything in order.

She relocated to the place her uncle recommended. It was called Lethford City and her uncle knew of a merchandising position that was open. It was for an upscale women's clothing store. He had a ‘lady friend’ who worked at their corporate office. He said he’d put in a good word.

Six months later, Bridget was a stranger in a strange land. She didn’t get the job in for the company, but she did find her way onto the sales floor. Years passed and she worked her way up to management. She even started a fashion blog specializing in eclectic wares and fashion trends.

In 2019, the position of a buyer became available. This time, she felt she was ready and after a painstakingly long series of interviews, she was hired on as the fashion buyer for the store.

Then 2020 rolled around. People began to get restless, sick...angry. Once again, her lovely, little world began to take a turn for the worst.


She has an irrational hatred of Croc brand shoes. That's why it's her nickname.