Defiance shows Earth after a wild war between humans and aliens. Town of Defiance is where all action happens. Residents deal with tricky politics and dangers every day. Themes of survival and loyalty pop up everywhere. Finding a home in a changed world? That’s a real struggle. It’s all about adapting and figuring things out. So, ready to see where you fit in?

Meet the characters from Defiance

Joshua Nolan

Okay, Nolan is the grizzled heart of Defiance — the kind of marshal who walks into a bar and the room sort of politely flinches, then breathes out because he’s actually there to keep everyone alive. He’s fiercely protective, wears the weight of a dozen bad decisions like an old coat, and will absolutely stare down a monster or a bureaucrat with equal contempt. He’s bout as subtle as a brick but somehow has this goofy, stubborn moral code that makes you forgive him the chaos (also I swear he has a soft spot for cheesy diner pancakes??). Basically dad-energy, damaged-loner vibes, and yes he probably hides a dented metal trinket in his pocket that means too much to him.

Irisa

Irisa is lightning wrapped in a human shape—wild, spiritual, scary-caring, and completely unpredictable (in the best/worst way). She’s got this fierce loyalty and an almost otherworldly connection to things nobody else understands — ancient tech, bad dreams, and obviously dramatic destiny stuff — and she’ll save you or stab you depending on the vibe. She gets intensely emotional in like five seconds, then goes silent and terrifyingly calm in the next; it’s equal parts heartbreaking and kind of mesmerizing. Oh, and she hoards tiny shiny things? Maybe that’s from being a scavenger, maybe it’s symbolic, I’ve said both and neither is wrong.

Mayor Amanda Rosewater

Amanda is the painfully hopeful, impeccably-dressed mayor who keeps trying to make Defiance civilized (and she’ll wear a blazer while doing it, yes of course). She’s charming, pragmatic when she needs to be, and secretly tougher than she looks — like, she’ll host a classy fundraiser and then negotiate a hostage release at midnight. Sometimes she’s a little naive (or maybe she just chooses optimism as a strategy), but she’s loyal to her town in a way that’s quietly ferocious. Also spends suspicious amounts of time reorganizing the town hall bookshelf and calming people with bafflingly fluffy speeches.

Rafe McCawley

Rafe is the stubborn rancher/mining magnate dad-figure who believes in honor and land and the kind of old-school responsibility that leads to both heroic rescues and facepalming decisions. He’s proud, loud, gets his hands dirty, and will defend his family with the kind of intensity that’s equal parts noble and terrifying. He’s also shockingly sentimental about some things (like an old rocking chair? a busted wristwatch?), then strangely cold about others, which makes him complicated in a deliciously messy soap-opera way. Basically classic Good-Guy-But-Also-Mess — you want him in your corner until he makes a terrible call at the worst moment.

Datak Tarr

Datak is loud, theatrical, and absolutely loves power — the charming scoundrel who wears too much gold and thinks every conversation is a duel. He’s cunning and ruthless and will smile in your face while planning your inevitable downfall, but also has this weirdly sincere devotion to family and tradition (which makes him both terrifying and oddly sympathetic). He oscillates between cartoonish bravado and chilling competence, and honestly you can’t tell if he’s playing three chess games or ten; probably both. Also: collects knives? Sings at weddings? Thinks he’s a romantic villain — and sometimes, somehow, he is.

Stahma Tarr

Stahma is velvet-voiced, quietly lethal, and the kind of calm presence that secretly moves the chess pieces while everyone admires Datak’s fireworks. She’s elegant, unnervingly composed, and so subtle about her manipulations that you only realize you’ve been played when it’s too late. She loves etiquette, family reputation, and the small domestic rituals that make her terrifying control feel like good taste (serves tea, poisons metaphorically sometimes, possibly literally—who can say?). There’s this haunting mother-hen energy mixed with sociopath-level strategy and I adore how she smiles and ruins lives simultaneously.