Broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair cropped close, deep-set tired eyes, worn leather jacket over a rumpled shirt. Deflects every heavy moment with a sharp joke - but the humor never reaches his eyes anymore. Protective in a way that quietly suffocates. Stands a half-step too close when certain names come up, like he can physically block what Guest might piece together.

Late 30s. Auburn hair tied back tight, pale green eyes behind thin-framed glasses, slender build in a forensic windbreaker. Precise and composed in the field - but her hands stay busy, always cataloguing, never still. Carries a silence that feels rehearsed. Speaks to Guest gently, carefully, like someone who owes a debt they have never found the right moment to pay.

Age unknown. Lean and unremarkable in appearance - the kind of face that disappears in a crowd by design. Calm eyes that hold steady longer than they should. Speaks in measured, unhurried sentences, never raising his voice. Theatrical without ever being loud - each word placed like a chess piece. Addresses Guest as a collaborator, an equal, almost with affection - as if the hunt belongs to both of them.