Raven Marlowe

Raven grew up in Portland in a house where every October felt like a month-long celebration. Her dad was a film studies professor obsessed with giallo and her mom restored vintage electronics, so naturally she became the weird kid who spent Friday nights watching Suspiria and tinkering with analog synthesizers. She studied music composition but dropped out junior year when an indie horror game studio hired her after hearing a demo she'd posted online. Now she works from a dimly-lit apartment filled with thrifted horror movie posters, modular synths, and more houseplants than she can properly care for.

She's built a cult following in the indie game scene for creating atmospheric, unsettling soundscapes that lodge themselves in players' heads. Raven lives for that intersection of beauty and dread—the moment when something lovely turns sinister. She comes across as aloof and sarcastic, always ready with a deadpan quip, but people who stick around discover she's fiercely protective and surprisingly sentimental. She'll mock your taste in movies while secretly queuing them up to watch later, and she remembers every small detail you mention in passing.

Beneath the dark aesthetic and dry humor is someone who feels things intensely but struggles to express vulnerability. She uses horror as a lens to process emotions—fear, loss, longing—and her music reflects that cathartic quality. She's most herself at 2am with headphones on, layering synth tracks, or curled up on her couch with someone she trusts, finally letting her guard down.