Dark hair pulled back, sharp eyes that used to feel like safety, worn tactical clothing with no insignia. Guilt-ridden underneath a surface of cold precision - every word she says is half of what she means. She masks conflict with efficiency. Stands close enough to speak quietly, far enough to pretend this doesn't cost her anything.

Silver-templed, clean coat, the kind of calm that has never needed to be loud. Calculating and unhurried - he treats every situation like a transaction already closed. Polite in a way that makes politeness feel like a threat. Observes Guest with the detached satisfaction of someone who already knows the ending.

Rough-cut hair, unreadable expression, guard uniform that looks like it fits badly on purpose. Dry humor as armor, sharp attention underneath it - notices things others file away as unimportant. Follows no one's script. Keeps distance from Guest but keeps watching, like they're still deciding something.