Here’s exactly how your Exeter accommodation would perform in The Traitors
Flat drama and too much rosé — Claudia Winkleman would thrive here
The cloaks are on, the candles are lit, and somewhere deep in Devon, Claudia’s fringe quivers in anticipation. With the final approaching, it’s time to ask the real question: If Exeter’s halls entered The Traitors, who would deceive, who would survive, and who would crumble under the pressure?
Exeter students might not be living in a Scottish castle, but between suspicious kitchen chats and passive-aggressive flat group messages, it’s basically the same vibe. One thing’s for sure — trust no one.
Picture it now: East Park students sprinting across Streatham Campus in a challenge to get to the front of the Pret lunchtime queue, Birks attempting to lead a mission up Cardiac Hill like it’s a scene from an army movie and someone from Duryard refusing to participate because it’s too far to walk.
Who’s thriving under pressure, and who’s getting banished before breakfast? I’m answering the question on everyone’s minds: Which accommodation would be the ultimate traitor, the most loyal faithful, and who’s crying at the round table before Claudia even blinks? Let’s find out.
East Park: The over-eager faithful

East Park would come in way too eager. Everyone would be so keen to prove their loyalty that they’d look suspicious. They’d be forming alliances in the group chat, organising debriefs in Pret, and crying when someone gets “murdered.”
They would last a few rounds purely out of niceness, but ultimately someone would slip up and confess their entire strategy over a bottle of rosé; banishment by episode three.
They would over-explain their strategies during missions, nervously volunteer for every round table, and gasp at even the slightest hint of betrayal. Essentially, they’re too sweet for this cutthroat game and would burn out fast.
Survival rating: Too wholesome for the game.
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Old Lafrowda: The chaotic competitors

If anyone’s pulling all-nighters plotting betrayals and arguments, it’s Old Lafrowda. They’d probably forget they were even in the game between pres and crisis.
But their unpredictability would work in their favour — no one would ever know if they were faithful or traitor because they’re just like that. They would survive on pure chaos and late-night Co-op sweet treat runs.
They would wander into challenges late, purposefully reveal secrets in the kitchen, and somehow survive by keeping everyone guessing. Their ability to laugh off suspicion and create distractions makes them absolute wildcards.
Survival rating: Potential finalists.
New Lafrowda: The strategic traitors

New Lafrowda gives off serious traitor energy — slick, confident, slightly terrifying. They’d have spreadsheets tracking who’s lying and a shared board for alliances. Their kitchen chats would feel like board meetings, and honestly? They’d play the long game beautifully.
Every mission would be meticulously planned, every vote subtly manipulated, and any attempts to trap them would fail spectacularly.
Basically, they’re the puppet-masters the rest of the halls secretly fear.
Survival rating: Final three material.
Rowe House: The overlooked underdogs

Rowe House would fly completely under the radar. Everyone forgets they’re even there, which is exactly why they’d survive.
Quiet, observant, slightly mysterious — they would just sit in the corner sipping tea and casually clock everyone’s lies.
They would quietly pass challenges with minimal fuss, stay out of arguments, and when it counts they would make subtle but game-changing moves that shock the other halls. The final reveal would cement their underdog legend status.
Survival rating: Everyone always loves the underdog.
Duryard: The first to go

Poor Duryard, but they’re not making it past the first round. Between the hill walk and the isolation, they’d turn up late to the round table every single time. The others would take that as “suspicious behaviour” and banish them on sight.
They’d spend the rest of the season posting memes about how unfair it was from the comfort of their ensuite.
Survival rating: Out before Claudia even blinks.
Birks Grange Village: The overconfident traitor

Birks would volunteer as a traitor just for the drama. They’d be charismatic, slightly smug, and way too sure they could talk themselves out of anything.
And to be fair, they’d do pretty well… until the faithfuls finally compared notes and realised every single lie came from Birks.
They would dominate mini-challenges with flair, dramatically deflect suspicion, and constantly remind everyone they’re “obviously not suspicious.”
Their downfall would be messy, theatrical, and unforgettable.
Survival rating: Burn bright, murdered early.
Holland Hall: The main character

You know Holland Hall would act like they’re starring in their own BBC special. Dramatic gasps, mysterious cloak swishes, slow-motion walks to breakfast — it’s all happening.
They would definitely be a traitor, and they would definitely get away with it, because everyone’s too intimidated by the view and the buffet breakfast to question them.
Every mission would look effortless, they would manipulate social dynamics with a sly grin, and the camera would naturally follow their every move.
Claudia would love them. The audience would hate them, but they would win.
Survival rating: My winners.
Moberly: The secret genius

Moberly is the dark horse of the competition.
They’re the ones quietly sipping tea while chaos erupts around them, secretly noting every alliance and betrayal. Nobody ever suspects Moberly — mostly because half the cast forgets where it is.
But by the end, they’ve played everyone like a fiddle and stroll into the finale calm, collected, and utterly victorious.
They’d complete challenges silently, vote strategically, and drop one perfectly timed revelation that changes the course of the game.
By the finale, they’ve played everyone like a fiddle and stroll into the finale calm, collected, and utterly victorious. Think Claudia’s dream faithful: Lowkey but lethal.
Survival rating: Silent but deadly.








